Icing on the Cake Chapter 18

Sensing his gaze, the white fingers with visible blue veins lightly rustled the bills as if urging him to take them.

Watching the taunting gesture in silence, Yuri felt the truth of Heather’s words. She’d said Cheriot particularly hated bad people—and indeed, it seemed to run bone-deep. Though Cheriot had seemed like someone with no concept of personal space and a lighthearted demeanor, he hadn’t been this rude before.

The moment he learned what kind of person Yuri was, he’d wiped away all the earlier friendliness and done a complete about-face—it seemed he had some personal history with such matters. Well, it wasn’t an unusually extreme reaction. It was only natural for any normal person to despise Yuri.

The word “trash” wasn’t new to him either.

Worse than a dog. A filthy bloodline that should have died the moment it was born. A brat whose only use would be to have its throat cut and thrown into the woods as beast feed. Devil. Horrible person. Cold and cruel human without a single tear.

A being not even worthy of being called human.

In his life, Yuri had been called countless names. Among all those insults, “trash” could be considered relatively mild.

“Take it and go.”

Having rarely been treated as human, Yuri wasn’t provoked by contempt directed at him. He took the money Cheriot offered without any reaction. Turning his gaze away from the cold green eyes that seemed to say “I knew it” as they mocked him, Yuri slowly counted the bills.

One, two, three… twenty bills.

That seemed rather excessive for a sum paid simply out of wounded pride. The hotel fee had been about 700 dollars. Flipping through the bills, Yuri tucked the seven he needed to take into his inner pocket. Cheriot squinted one eye at him, as if to ask what he was up to. That was a little amusing. The man who hadn’t batted an eye at all the harsh words until now was making that face at him just for breathing.

“You might be good at physical work, but you seem weak at addition. I’ll leave the change here.”

If it had been someone else, Yuri might have thrown the bills in his face, but for Heather’s sake, he held back. Instead, passing by the man who clearly had no intention of accepting anything further, he set the money on the table. With a light thud, his connection with Cheriot Gutnight came to a close.

With that, Yuri left the room, Cheriot’s piercing glare at his back. Standing alone in front of the elevator, Yuri finally caught his breath. A burning heat rose inside his chest, as if he’d torn off a hangnail growing over his heart.

What a filthy feeling.

This discomfort came not from Cheriot or Heather, but entirely from himself. The strong sense of humiliation he’d managed to avoid for a while by staying away from ordinary people crept back in. They were like leeches that couldn’t be shaken off—when moments like this came, they latched onto Yuri’s conscience and tormented him.

He felt like going home and having a drink for the first time in a while. With a slightly impatient heart, Yuri pressed the elevator button. Just as the doors, which had remained on the same floor, began to open, Cheriot’s guest room door swung open. It was Heather.

“Yuri, let’s go down to the lobby and talk for a bit.”

Walking quickly toward him, Heather stepped into the elevator before Yuri could even refuse. After a moment’s hesitation, Yuri followed her in without a word. As soon as the doors closed, Heather spoke.

“That was way too explosive, Yuri. Even I can’t smooth over a situation like that.”

Pushing up her glasses, Heather looked straight up at him and murmured. Unlike before, when she’d been frozen between Cheriot and Yuri, she now seemed rather bold.

“You didn’t need to speak on my behalf, Heather. I didn’t reveal it because we had no reason to cross paths, but I’m sorry for deceiving you.”

“No, I mean, you don’t have to apologize. Rather, you told me the… truth after hearing what I said. But!”

Heather ran her hand through her hair in frustration. Her neatly tied ponytail came loose and tangled.

“The Yuri I saw wasn’t someone who’d harm Cheriot…”

She muttered in a tired voice, still messing with her hair. Watching her, Yuri twisted the corner of his mouth soundlessly before wiping the expression away.

“You saw me fight the day we first met. Someone who can subdue people like that doesn’t come from an ordinary background.”

Yuri recalled that day two years ago when he’d met Heather. At the time, he’d been helping his father Vasily. A benefactor who’d helped Vasily settle in Vancouver was having his shop threatened by thugs, and while he and Alexei were tracking down those behind it, they’d encountered Heather in trouble. It turned out Heather had been investigating the very person who’d hired the thugs, and she’d been in danger after recklessly following them—they’d saved her.

Even then, Heather hadn’t been frightened by the sight of them hitting people. Instead, she’d thanked them for the help and asked if they could help her further. That was why Yuri had thought she might have an inkling of who they really were.

“Well… I thought you were something like a retired soldier. Or maybe someone who’d been training to join the police.”

Ordinary people wouldn’t be able to distinguish what kind of skills someone had mastered—that was possible. Yuri laughed dryly to himself at the identity so far removed from his own.

“Um, Yuri, you’re not wanted, are you?”

When Yuri didn’t answer, Heather carefully asked again.

“Because if you are, as a citizen I’d have no choice but to report you. I’m asking while praying that’s not the case.”

“No warrant has been issued. I made a deal with the police.”

Since there was no need to explain the details of his past to Heather either, Yuri left it at that. Heather’s expression brightened considerably at the news he wasn’t a wanted man.

“Then you must have your reasons too. If you explain even a rough version of your circumstances to me, I’ll try to talk to Cheriot again.”

“Trust has already been broken—it’s impossible. And I don’t want it either. There are plenty of capable mercenaries out there; there’s no reason to use me specifically.”

“That’s true. But there’s no guarantee those people won’t sell Cheriot’s information.”

“Neither is there for me.”

Heather kept pressing him on a topic that needed no further discussion. By then, the elevator had reached the lobby, and Yuri decided not to waste any more of each other’s time—he spoke firmly.

“Heather, you need to develop a better eye for people. The fact that I, whom you believed to be a good person, turned out to be a criminal proves that point. So please go back inside now. You came all this way to give Cheriot the information he needs.”

With that, Yuri left Heather behind and walked into the lobby. The exhaustion and hunger he’d forgotten came rushing back all at once—he truly wanted to rest, and he wanted to leave this place immediately.

But.

As he was crossing the lobby to leave, his eyes caught the reception desk. There, a short-haired blond man wearing a neutral-toned jumper was talking to the night staff, apparently having called them over. It might have been a scene he could ignore, but out of habit, Yuri checked the man’s waist and one hand.

The man’s right hand was in his jumper pocket. His shoes were hard-soled boots, and his waistline… the silhouette wasn’t clear.

Yuri stopped abruptly, tilted his head as if searching for something inside his pocket, and quickly turned around to scan his surroundings—there was another man sitting on the lobby sofa. Wearing a khaki jacket and a black cap, the brown-haired man was leaning back comfortably against the sofa, appearing to be on his phone, but his gaze was fixed on the reception desk.

Sensing Yuri’s eyes, the man slowly lifted his head and looked at him. Pretending not to have noticed, Yuri turned back toward the elevator and spoke to Heather, who was still standing there looking at him.

“Chelsea, did I give you my car keys?”

Heather’s eyes went wide at Yuri, who’d suddenly called her Chelsea. Before she could answer, Yuri closed the distance quickly, positioned himself to block her from the lobby’s view, and bent down to whisper in her ear.

“Please follow my lead from now on. I’ll explain once we’re outside.”