𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 || 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄/𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐍

Chapter Seventeen

Buttoning his dress shirt up, Mingyu said, "Is there a reason you've been staring at me for the past ten minutes?"

Wonwoo averted his gaze toward the window. With his knees pulled to his chest and his bare arms wrapped around them, he looked small and very young. The morning sunlight reflected off his dark hair and colored his cheek with a healthy glow. He would look like an innocent, uncorrupted angel if there hadn't been something so very sensual in the curve of his wide, plump mouth. Not for the first time, Mingyu thought that the boy looked more French than English.

"You're one to talk," Wonwoo said without looking at him, a small, rather forced smile curling his lips. He was in a strange mood.

Mingyu eyed his profile for a moment before deciding he didn't have time to interrogate him. Wonwoo had been particularly insatiable this morning, and Mingyu was already running late because of him. Jennie, for all her nosiness, didn't deserve to be stood up by her brother on her own wedding day.

"I won't be back till late evening," Mingyu said, slipping into his tuxedo jacket. "Yoongi will bring you food. Tomorrow we're returning to Russia."

Catching his lip between his white teeth, Wonwoo nodded, his gaze still averted. "Bye," he said, his arms tightening around his knees.

Mingyu paused by the door. "Something wrong?"

Wonwoo shook his head, smiling crookedly. "Just sick of being stuck inside, I guess."

Mingyu wasn't convinced, but he really didn't have time for this. "I'll see you tonight," he said, opening the door.

"Wait!" In the blink of an eye, Wonwoo was out of the bed and dashing toward him in a flurry of pale limbs and messy curls. He looped his arms around Mingyu's neck and pressed his mouth against Mingyu's, his lips soft, plush and desperate, as if they hadn't just spent hours having sex.

Mingyu chuckled, his fingers digging into Wonwoo's round butts. But he kissed back, taking charge of the kiss the way his Curly liked. He was rewarded with soft, needy whimpers of pleasure as the boy clung to him. Mingyu indulged him, although after hours of sex getting an erection was impossible even for a man with his sex drive.

But he really couldn't stay a moment longer.

He pulled back, their lips parting with a wet smack, and cleared his throat. "Let go of my shirt, kitten."

Brown eyes stared at him dazedly for a few moments before Wonwoo practically jumped away and clasped his hands behind his back, looking flustered.

He blushed so prettily.

Mingyu's lips thinned at the thought. He really didn't like the effect the boy had on him.

The sooner he got rid of Wonwoo, the better.

Without another word, he left the room, the door locking after him.

* * *

Weddings were fucking tiresome. It didn't help that Mingyu had spent the better part of the day forced to put up with his numerous aunts' nosy inquiries about his own marital status and when it was going to change. Apparently, being on the wrong side of thirty and unmarried was "tragic, just tragic." There was a reason he didn't like spending too much time with his extensive family. It was hard to intimidate someone into silence when they had seen him in his nappies. Mingyu's mother was the worst. She had kept nagging him throughout the evening, wanting to know when he was finally going to follow his younger sisters' example and settle down. She hadn't been impressed when he had finally snapped and told her he had more important things to do than play house with some woman.

Mingyu heaved an irritated sigh at the memory and entered his lake house. It was blessedly quiet compared to the noisy manor he had left behind.

Yoongi was waiting for him in the hall.

He knew something was wrong the moment he saw his pale face.

"Jeon's boy is gone," Yoongi said.

Mingyu stared at him.

"What?" he heard himself say.

"He escaped," Yoongi said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Escaped.

The word rang in his ears, refusing to penetrate his tired mind.

Then, he was moving.

He strode upstairs, toward his bedroom, Yoongi trailing after him.

The lock was broken.

The room was empty. The wardrobe was wide open. There was no trace of the curly-haired boy with a dimpled smile. The bed was still unmade, the sheets rumpled and swept aside in the aftermath of the sex they'd had that morning.

"How?" Mingyu said, staring at the bed.

"We aren't sure. He was still here when I brought him food at eleven o'clock. Obviously I checked the security feeds, but it looks like the cameras malfunctioned around noon. I didn't find out until hours later because—well, you know why. After you told me to stop snooping on you, I didn't monitor your bedroom."

Slowly, Mingyu turned around.

He studied Yoongi in silence.

Yoongi's eyes were darting all over the room. "My guess is he had outside help. Someone must have sneaked into the house, using the wedding as a distraction."

Mingyu looked at the bead of sweat running down Yoongi's face. "The house was still guarded by twenty-three highly-trained, professional guards, men who are supposedly the best. But, somehow, they didn't notice someone breaking in and taking my things from my bedroom. Explain that to me, Yoongi."

Yoongi kept swallowing convulsively. "Looks like the work of a professional. Possibly it was the British SIS. They seemed suspicious of you."

Mingyu hummed. "Possible," he said and watched Yoongi breathe out. "But unlikely. There's a much likelier explanation, don't you think?"

"I don't understand," Yoongi said.

Grabbing his throat, Mingyu shoved him into the wall, Yoongi's head knocking against it with a thud. It looked painful. Mingyu didn't care. "Why?" he said, rage making him see red. "Why did you do it?"

All pretense left Yoongi's face, his body sagging as though he were a rag-doll. "I..."

"Why?" Mingyu repeated, squeezing his throat tighter and watching him choke. Snapping a man's neck wasn't difficult. It had been years since he had been so tempted to do it.

"I did it for you," Yoongi managed to croak out. "I did the same thing you did when the brat started messing with my head—I removed him out of your reach. When you calm down, you'll know I did the right thing! You've been irrational since you started fucking that little faggot! He's nothing but trouble. You can get back at Jeon some other way. You know you can."

"How dare you," Mingyu said. "I've been too soft with you, Yoongi. Enough is enough." Tightening his grip further, he watched Yoongi's face turn gray. When Yoongi started losing consciousness, Mingyu dropped him to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

"You know I don't do well with betrayal," Mingyu said, looking down at the gasping, coughing man. "I trusted you to do your job well. I trusted you to have my back, not stab me in the back." He turned away.

"What are you going to do to me?" Yoongi croaked out.

"Nothing," Mingyu said. "You have fifteen minutes to get of my house. I'd better not hear from you again."

"I've been loyal to you for fifteen years! Doesn't that count for something?"

Mingyu paused. "It does. That's the only reason you're still alive. You know I don't like it when my people start thinking they know better than me. They don't." And he stalked out of the room, anger and regret churning his insides and making his blood boil. Goddammit, Yoongi. You fucking idiot.

Yoongi was right about one thing: even without the boy, Mingyu could, and would, make Jeon Taesoo pay. The Englishman was ultimately the reason Mingyu had lost two men he had trusted with his life: first Michail, now Yoongi.

Jeon Taesoo was certainly going to pay.

Soon.

________

END OF SEGMENT 1