Icing on the Cake Chapter 2

The woman, wearing an awkward expression, put away the desserts. Seeing that look made Yuri’s heart feel uneasy too. He had never learned how to accept something kind—that is, consideration or concern.

“Hmm.”

A hesitant breath was heard, and the woman gathered her courage again.

“I know this might be uncomfortable for you to hear, but I’ve been agonizing over it for a week, and I just couldn’t let go of my lingering feelings, so I’m asking. I swear to God, I’m not normally the type to make this kind of proposal first. So… if you’re okay with it, how about going on a date with me?”

There it was—the main point. It was a courageous move, and Yuri didn’t find her offer unpleasant. Her flowing figure, curly brown hair, and intelligent green eyes were, if he had to say, his type. But Yuri’s answer was always the same.

“I’m sorry.”

Yuri had no intention of dating anyone. He had never dated anyone so far, and he had no plans to do so in the future.

“…Does that mean you have a partner?”

“No.”

Frustrated by his short answers, the woman’s face flushed with a hint of displeasure and shame. Frowning slightly, Yuri raised his large hand to sweep his hair back from his forehead and, following his father’s advice not to make a lady miserable, gave a reason.

“I’m not in a position to see anyone.”

“Even just for a date? Is it that I’m not your type? But I’m more fun than you’d think, so please just give me a chance.”

Then, the woman whispered in a voice full of genuine lingering attachment.

“Please.”

There was only one other answer Yuri could give. Dating is difficult, but sleeping together once during his cycle is possible. However, the woman clearly didn’t want such an answer, and Yuri had no desire to say it out loud and get slapped in the face. Having his meal time taken up was enough.

As the silence stretched, the woman let out a sigh. Looking as if she didn’t understand, she ruffled her hair and then raised the hand holding the paper bag, pointing it at him.

“Then is it alphas you like? Or betas?”

Nonsense.

When the outrageous speculations started coming out, Yuri concluded that this was as far as he should go. Getting involved with an alpha was something unacceptable in his world. It didn’t seem to be that unusual in Vancouver, but just hearing such words made Yuri uncomfortable.

“You’ll find someone good.”

After apologizing while looking at those green eyes shimmering with moisture, he closed the door. Shutting himself inside the shop’s garage, Yuri let out a sigh. The old wall clock his father had picked up from somewhere was already pointing to 2 o’clock. Lunchtime was over. If he wanted to finish the repairs as scheduled, he’d have to get moving diligently from now on.

The one relief was that his appetite had vanished after smelling the sugar. Tapping his abdomen, which had gone quiet as if numbed, Yuri looked down at the back of his own hand. The white skin was stained with grease, looking terribly dirty. Come to think of it, his hands had never once been clean. Never.

∞ ∞ ∞

Not forming close relationships with anyone was one of the promises that people who had set foot on this side of things naturally made to protect themselves. Here, “this side of things” referred to the world where those who engaged in illegal activities gathered. Assassins who made a living killing people because they had a talent for it, mafiosos who chose to exploit others for money as their profession, and the brokers and technicians who made money by assisting such people—they all knew this rule.

Yuri Kiselov was a mafioso. That single sentence was enough to explain him. He was far from a normal person. Yuri Kiselov was a criminal, a bad guy, and every piece of his past was uniformly horrible and filthy. Even God could not grant him absolution, and the sins branded onto his soul would not disappear even after death.

That was why he didn’t get involved with anyone. Yuri wasn’t worthy.

“Yuri, I hear Alyosha is coming in the evening.”

His father, who had returned around 5 PM, delivered a piece of news to Yuri. He had said he was going grocery shopping and apparently ran into Alexei downtown while he was at it.

At the mention of his old friend’s name, even Yuri’s usually stoic expression shifted. His cold, hardened brow softened gently, and a hint of gladness settled in his blue eyes.

“What time?”

“Hard to say. By that guy’s standards, ‘evening’ probably means past 9 PM.”

“Then shall we eat around then?”

“Let’s do that. Oh, and he said he’s bringing a guest.”

At the word “guest,” Yuri paused for a moment, closing his lips. Though he was Yuri’s friend, Alexei was far from the type of person to entertain guests. It was unusual.

“Valery?”

In the end, what came to mind was Alexei’s lover, Valery. His father shook his head.

“No. He said it’s related to your line of work. Let’s see. He told me to pass this on to you.”

His father then mimicked his friend’s expression exactly. Raising his eyebrows arrogantly, flashing a handsome smile upward, and laughing heartily—the image overlapped onto his father’s face.

“‘Buy me some chocolates to treat me with.'”

Chuckling, his father locked the shop door right after. Following the rough urging to go and rest quickly, Yuri came out of the garage and headed for his car parked out front. He was about to leave right away to buy chocolates as Alexei had requested, but after seeing the grease smeared on his face and neck reflected in the car window, he briefly went back inside the house.

Grease doesn’t come off easily. He had to scrub with soap until his skin stung for the traces to even faintly fade. Standing at the sink and wiping his face clean, he put on a black jacket that looked presentable.

Starting the car, Yuri headed toward downtown. From North Vancouver, where he lived, he had to cross a bridge to get downtown, and because of the cars clogging the roads during rush hour, the navigation showed that a trip that normally took 20 minutes would now take an hour.

Looking at the cars lined up bumper to bumper, Yuri quietly listened to the song playing on the radio. Out of habit, he tried to light a cigarette, then belatedly realized it was something that would catch the attention of the police. The city he had spent his entire life in was a lawless space where the concept of illegality barely existed, so he often made mistakes like this.

Already three years, was it?

That was about how long he had been living with a fake identity, blending into society as if he were ordinary. Yuri’s surname was Kiselov, but the name on his ID was Yuri Campbell. Even the spelling of Yuri wasn’t the Russian way, but followed the common North American style. His father had gone from Vasily Kiselov to Jeff Murray. Quite a far cry from his father, who spoke English thickly laced with a Russian accent, wasn’t it?

His close friend Alexei Sorokin, his father, and himself—they were all originally born and raised on the fringes of America. A small town in the borderlands called Saratov. It was a barren city where migrants who had crossed over from the continent gathered during the chaotic times following the collapse of the Soviet Union.

Saratov was a kind of dump. A massive landfill for the poor and desperate who couldn’t seek asylum or emigrate. And to these vulnerable, neglected people, there were always those who clung to them, looking to exploit them. Saratov was ruled by mafia of Soviet origin who had decided to use this land like their own kingdom. And so, the small border town that no one paid any attention to became a den of criminals.

Yuri was born in such a place. The fate of children born in a city where they couldn’t even dream of going to university was mostly the same. Become an exploiter to survive, or die as a victim. Those brave enough to try to defy that fate mostly died, and if they were lucky, they escaped the city bearing large scars.

[…I think we’ve talked enough about the Prime Minister’s new policy mentioned earlier. Now, there’s a piece of news to note in Vancouver, right?]

[That’s right. It’s about the injury of Cheriot Gutnight, the captain of the Vancouver Red Maple.]

[I heard he’s out for the season with a knee injury sustained during training—is that true?]

[The exact cause hasn’t been disclosed, but it does seem certain that he’s out for the season due to injury. With the season just starting and expectations for the Red Maple this year being quite high, fans’ disappointment appears to be tremendous.]

[Since he’s a player with one of the largest fanbases in all of North America, it’s bound to be…]