[fic] Retribution Eleven
A relatively fast(er) update given my life at the moment. I hope you guys are still here.
Title: Retribution Eleven
Rating: PG-13
Warning: None
Characters: Fei Long, Mikhail, Yan
Spoiler: Spoiler for NT arc
Disclaimer: All characters belong to YA sensei.
Beta: angel0399
Previous Chapters: For new readers, 'Retribution' is the third arc of a Mik x Fei trilogy that I've suffered my readers with since 2007. In order to make sense of it I'm afraid you will need to read 'Cruel Intentions' and its sequel 'Revelation' before you begin 'Retribution.' All the links are organized on the side bar of my lj kajornwan along with the trilogy's one-shot fillers. Russian, Chinese, Polish, Spanish, and newly added French translations by readers are also found here. To make life even easier, a dear reader gryffin-draco has gone through the trouble of putting these in PDF files for download. Cruel Intentions and Revelation. Thank you so much sweetie.
The room was as silent as a morgue when they’d left. He could still recall how the softest of sounds were amplified ten folds in such a room - how every step he’d made towards Alexei’s lifeless body landed as loud as thunder, and how the shuffling of his clothes made him wince every time he’d moved. Even the sound of his breathing being held momentarily when he’d felt Alexei’s cold, stiff hand could not be missed.
You go and finish what you’ve started, and when you’re done, you come home.
It wasn’t the last thing Alexei said to him, but it was something that kept echoing in his mind. The home he grew up in had already been destroyed the night his father died, and he had never thought it was possible to rebuild or replace such a home. He’d remembered Alexei’s strange smile that day when he offered him another, welcoming him into their family. And since then he had imagined, time and time again, going back to that home Alexei had promised - a place that smells of freshly brewed coffee in the morning and Mikhail’s cooking at night, where Alexei’s laughter could be heard and his brother’s disapproving gaze could be seen thereafter, where he could sleep like a child as Mikhail’s hand gently plays with his hair, a place he would always regret having to leave and count the days when he would return.
He had finished what he’d started, but he was not going home. Ironically, he was being suspended from the ceiling in a room that would soon double as his mortuary. It certainly felt like one - the silence, the darkness, and the haunting calls of the dead that hung in the air. All he could hear was the sound of his blood dripping on the floor, constant and deliberate like the ticking of an old clock. The chains that held him above ground chimed so loud it threatened his sanity every time he moved. No, he was not going home, and in time it would be him lying cold and stiff like Alexei in that morgue, only no one would come to identify or claim his body. No one would even know that he’d died.
Abandoned at birth and deserted at death. How appropriate.
With that thought Fei Long began to laugh, only to find himself growling in pain seconds later from the movements that made his wounds sting. Wait one minute in between... He wished he’d thought of it during his own interrogation. It was one hell of a way to maximize the pain and he’d had to grit his teeth until his gums bled to not cry out every time the whip stripped off a good chunk of his skin. He wondered how his back looked at that moment and whether it resembled Mikhail’s now. “What a pair we make,” Mikhail used to say. How so very true, especially now that their scars would match.
They came for him some time later to heal his injuries so that they could give him more. The physician was an old man possibly in his seventies, not too different from how his own family doctor looked. The man had both arms behind his back and held himself regally with no effort despite his age. From the way he dressed Fei Long could tell the man was a high-ranking physician, not some random lackey who knew how to apply a bandage. It wasn’t clear to him why Phillip Toh would send someone so important to see to his wounds, but by that time the pain on his back didn’t really allow him to care.
The old man approached him with two guards and paused a few steps before him. Fei Long looked up and saw something in those narrow, dark brown eyes as they studied his face. It looked like recognition, but he was certain they had never met before. The man gave him a faint smile when their eyes met but said nothing before he turned to walk away.
“Take him down and bring him to my room. I can’t dress his wounds like this,” he told the guards as he left.
They took him down as instructed and dragged him along the dimly lit hallway into an elevator. Fei Long stole a few glances and realized he was being held on the basement level in a building that had just two floors above ground. They took him up to the first floor and pushed him out into another hallway. The traditional Chinese decoration and layout of the area made Fei Long realize he was being held inside one of Toh’s many residences. The fact that they spoke mainly Mandarin meant that they were likely in a house in Mainland China. Having been raised in Hong Kong, he couldn’t quite place their accent, which might have helped him pinpoint his location. But at that point, where in the world he was wasn’t the problem. The real problem was getting out of a house he expected to be guarded like a fortress.
The room they took him to was a medicine room with tall, antique chests of drawers that covered two entire walls and smelled of Chinese herbs and incense. It would have been an environment he could relax a little in had the wounds on his back been a little less painful. By the time they sat him down on a wooden stool he could hardly feel anything but the sting on his back.
“Leave us,” the doctor instructed the guards who promptly complied. Fei Long could hear them waiting on the other side of the door, along with the other guards that patrolled the area not too far from where they were. Five, maybe six, he listened and made a mental note.
“Take this,” the older man said as he offered a cup of what appeared to be some kind of herbal tea. “It will help with the pain.”
Seeing the hesitation from his patient, he gave Fei Long a smile that was both warm and yet strangely stiff in a way. “Don’t worry,” he said with a calm and soothing voice. “If you die I will be dead too. And I intend to live a while longer.”
It made sense, Fei Long thought. Given the fact that Toh would never let him die for a longer time than he’d prefer to live under such torture, killing him now would be a saintly act according to his half brother and would have never been allowed. On top of it the man would have taken pleasure in doing it himself, with his own hands. And so, after deliberating over it for a few more seconds, Fei Long decided to take the tea.
“They told me you look like her, but I never thought you’d resemble her this much,” said the doctor as he began to clean the wounds. When he’d heard about who young master Toh had taken captive, he had to see for himself. The first time he walked into the room he thought he’d seen a ghost. It became clear to him then, why his young master found it so hard to forget or forgive.
Fei Long’s lips stretched into a sarcastic smile as he realized the answer to the riddle. It was indeed recognition he saw back then. The man knew his mother, which was why he’d taken it upon himself to treat the prisoner’s wounds when anyone else could have done it. Until that time he’d forgotten completely that some of them might have seen or known his mother, not that it would have made a difference to his captors - or him, for that matter.
“And you’re here to tell me how beautiful and kind she was?” He asked with a mocking tone. A long time ago he might have given a damn about what his wretched mother was like, now he couldn’t care less. The woman had ruined his life in more ways than one, and even now he was paying for the wrongs he did not do, thanks to her. As far as he was concerned he had no mother. He’d never needed one, especially one that didn’t want him.
The old man paused for while as he sensed the sarcasm in the other man’s voice. He realized then, how little the young man in front of him knew about his parents. “No. I am here to tell you a story that may set you free.”
“And why exactly would you want to do that?” In his world, nothing ever comes for free, ever.
“Because all of this madness has to end.”
Madness, Fei Long sneered. What an appropriate use of word. There had been nothing normal about his life since the time of his birth, and everything that had happened up until then had indeed been a result of a madness that was both contagious and never-ending. It might actually be interesting to know, after all, about the true source of all this - the woman who gave birth to him.
“She was beautiful, but I don’t think kind is the word to describe your mother,” the old man said as he began to clean the wounds, trying to ignore the uneasiness he felt within him. As a doctor, it wasn’t easy healing an injury that he knew would appear again as soon as it was healed. It was just like this with her before she was with child, and just like then, there was nothing he could do.
“The first time master Toh took her home, the mistress had called her a whore in front of the servants. Your mother punched her hard enough to leave a huge bruise on her cheek for two weeks. I don’t think anyone would ever forget that incident,” he recalled. Chen Mei Ling had made it crystal clear on the very first day that no one would get away with calling her names. What worsened the situation, however, was the fact that master Toh had allowed her to do whatever she pleased, except leaving the premises.
“What did he do? Had her whipped just like this?” Fei Long asked with a chuckle. They were father and son, how different can they be?
“Whipped? No. Master Toh loved her. He was obsessed with her. Mei Ling was untouchable.” In a way and except by him.
Mei Ling. Hearing her name spoken made Fei Long’s throat constrict. Until then he had managed to deny her existence so that it would not trouble him. Now that she has a name, it would be impossible for him to completely erase her from his mind. And now, the question that he’d always convinced himself to be insignificant had resurfaced and demanded an answer. “If he’d loved her… why did she give me away?”
The doctor paused a little as he began to apply the medicine over the young man’s back and realized how even his skin was just like hers, despite being marked from the beatings. Those sharp, amethyst eyes, too, had the same fire that could make the entire room suffocate. Mei Ling was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and also the most vicious he’d ever come across. He could see a lot of her in the man sitting in front of him - his looks, his hair, the way he carries himself, and how stubborn and haughty he appears to be. There was so much resemblance between them that was more than physical, even though she never had the chance to raise her son.
“Because that love was never returned,” he explained. He did not know how they’d started out, but by the time he had taken her home, not returning his love was an understatement. “I have never seen so much hatred in a woman. Your father...”
“He’s not my father," Fei Long interrupted, quickly and bitterly. It was enough having a mother who abandoned him; he didn't need a father who was willing to kill him without a second thought.
The doctor paused momentarily after realizing the hostility in that tone. He had forgotten what the man in front of him had once gone to jail for. Once he'd thought his master’s death was an accident, now he was not so sure. "Master Toh," he corrected himself, “was obsessed with her in ways that could not be restrained. Unfortunately, the longer she refused him, the more it grew to the point that he would stop at nothing to have her."
He could still remember it well, the bruises that kept appearing on Mei Ling's otherwise flawless face, the self-inflicted wounds on the mistress' arms, and the madness that nearly destroyed the house of Toh - all because of one woman. It was the kind of rumors and gossips everyone knew about but didn't dare speak out loud. The guards whispered about it in the dark, the maids exchanged awkward glances in silence, and he'd treated reoccurring wounds without question. With several changes of servants and management, the story had somewhat been lost in all those years, but to him it would never disappear, especially when the madness apparently had not ended.
"They were best friends from childhood, did you know? Liu Laoban and Master Toh," he told the young man. "But it all turned to history when she came along. She was Liu Laoban's betrothed - young and beautiful enough to steal every man's soul. And Master Toh wanted her...enough to break that friendship."
Fei Long felt his heart sank as he listened to the truth his father never once uttered. He must have wanted to avoid talking about her at all costs, to the extent that Fei Long had always assumed they did not know each other. It would also mean that he’d loved her dearly, and thinking about her must have been painful for him to keep it untold to the day he died. But there was something else too that warmed his heart with such a revelation - the fact that he wasn’t just an adopted child to his father, after all. He was her son.
"What happened?" By that time he had to know. It was his father's story, his pain, his loss, and his love for the mother he never knew and had always despised.
"No one knows for sure, now that all three of them are gone," he replied, his tone filled with regret and a barely noticeable hint of grief. "All we know is that some time later the engagement between her and Liu Laoban was broken off because another woman was carrying his child. Liu Laoban married her instead and seven months later she died giving birth to a boy."
"Yan Tsui," Fei Long said quietly in comprehension. It sounded like marriage for the sake of pregnancy, and he couldn't help but feel that there was some conspiracy behind it. Yan Tsui was his father's heir and true son, and yet at times even he could see the harshness in his father's eyes when he looked at Yan. He often wondered what it was, and now he knew. And at that moment he had to wonder if Yan Tsui had known any of this, and if it had been the reason why his brother had never once shown any affection towards him, even though they did grow up together. Perhaps after all this time, Yan Tsui, too, had been struggling as the unwanted child, an accident. Perhaps to him, he had been the son his father should have had - her son.
"Soon after her death they became close again, Liu Laoban and Mei Ling. And that was when Master Toh ... interfered."
"Interfered?" Fei Long asked, noticing the restraint in the older man's voice that told him the truth was far more extreme than what it implied.
"We were all surprised when he brought her home, since everyone knew she was Liu Laoban's woman. From her hostility it was obvious that she had been forced to comply, but by what means exactly no one truly knew ," he explained and paused as his memory resurfaced. It was a mystery why a man as powerful as Liu Laoban had allowed it to happen, and how Mei Ling, who clearly wasn't the kind of woman one could dominate or control easily, could be forced by Toh to leave her lover for him. No one could explain it - no one but those residing in the compound who were fortunate enough to overhear certain conversations.
"You do," Fei Long, sensing something from the old man's voice, pressed on.
"Some of us heard ... things. I cannot say I know for certain," the doctor said as he continued to wrap the gauze around the other man's body. "There were threats and evidences. They fought, sometimes loud enough to be heard by the entire house. And he'd yell at her, reminded her of the reason why she had to obey him. He knew things - secrets about Liu Laoban that she would die to protect."
Blackmail. Fei Long's fist tightened as his blood began to boil. It was obvious. As childhood friends his father must have trusted Toh and shared many secrets with him. Among those secrets he could imagine there were many that could have compromised his father's position or put him in jail if they were made known publicly. The fact that she allowed herself to be blackmailed meant that she must have loved his father, and loved him enough to sacrifice her own freedom and pride to save him. 0But was it just freedom and pride?
"Did he hurt her?"
The doctor shook his head slightly. "Master Toh treated her kindly...most of the time. But some nights we would hear her scream, not in torture, but in hate, when he would force himself upon her. The next day I would be summoned to see to her bruises. They were results of her struggles though, not from abuse, never from abuse," the doctor recalled. There was something else everyone also noticed - the affection Master Toh had for her, his own torment when she looked at him in disgust, and all his efforts to win her favor that she coldly discarded like trash every time and without fail.
"For two years she had lived with us, and no matter how many times he had taken her, your mother never once gave in. To the very last minute, she did not yield." Mei Ling was one hell of a woman, he had to admit. She had a presence that burned itself permanently into one's memory - a woman beautiful enough to blind. But such beauty should never be possible in this world, and she had paid for it with a price no one should have to.
"She became more manageable when she found out she was pregnant. We all thought she had finally given in. But the day you were born she had you snuck out of the house and placed in front of the Liu residence, knowing that once he took you in Master Toh would never be able to get you back," the old man said, his voice trembled a little at the end as he recalled the events that followed.
"She was in her room, dressed up in her most beautiful qi pao when he went to her, furious about the treacherous act she had carried out to perfection. I followed him, hoping that there was something I could do if he were to strike her in his anger," he paused momentarily, taking a deep breath to steady his voice. His fingertips had gone cold as the dreadful memory returned - images that had haunted him in his dreams years afterwards.
"And there she stood, looking prouder and more beautiful than she had ever been, laughing triumphantly in his face. ‘Look and remember,' she said. 'You never had me, and you never will!'" He could still remember the look on her face and the way she radiated as if she was a divine being they could not touch. She was blindingly beautiful, but in a deadly way that made one's hair stand on end. Even in his rage, Master Toh had found himself speechless and unable to move.
"She hurled the lantern she had been holding at her feet. Before we knew it the entire room was on fire...," his voice trailed off as he found himself lost in his own memory. What he didn't say was that they might have been able to save her had they acted sooner. But they had found themselves nailed to the floor at the sight of her in that room. He would never forget the way her face glowed brilliantly in the fire that caught on to her hair, how her eyes seemed to have turned red like the flames that surrounded her body when she looked at the two men in front of her as though they were two powerless creatures in the face of a goddess. And indeed they were powerless. She was untouchable, unreachable, now in the flame that was meant to claim her life and set her free. In the midst of Master Toh's scream, she continued to laugh. And had he not been strong enough to hold his master back she would have taken his life with her as retribution.
"We all witnessed the madness that consumed Master Toh for years after her death. But it was the mistress and her son that paid the ultimate price. He would dress her up in Mei Ling's clothes and used her as your mother's substitute. Convinced that her death resulted from the fact that she had you, he could not stand the sight of a child, including his own, and he would beat up young Master Toh, sometimes for just being there," he explained. He could still feel the pain in his heart as he recalled the little boy that clung to his mother's dress, shaking with fear, even though he knew better than anyone the extent of her helplessness against his father. She was his only protection, no matter how defenseless she truly was. But she, too, deserted him.
"Soon, the mistress became more and more unstable. Until.." the doctor paused momentarily as he recalled the day another tragedy happened. "It was young Master Toh who found her. She'd hung herself in your mother's room, wearing your mother's clothes."
Her son, he recalled, only six years old at the time, was found curled up in the corner, staring at her without making a sound. He was in shock, everyone thought, for the boy did not cry - not then and not after. Only he seemed to see it - the burning hatred in those eyes that grew in intensity day by day. He had managed to distance the boy from his neglectful and abusive father, hoping that the child might learn to forget all the tragedy that happened years ago. And for decades Phillip Toh had lived quietly in the shadows, until words reached him that Master Toh was considering taking his other son, Mei Ling's son, back as heir. The look on the young master's face that day was impossible to forget, and he knew it was not remorse that was displayed on the young man's face as he stood above his father's corpse, but a form of gratification that was both bitter and dangerous. He knew then that the madness would not end with the death of Toh senior - the last of those three. The curse had carried on in the blood and soul of young Master Toh, and now, of Liu Fei Long of Baishe. How many more lives must be sacrificed before it was over - this hatred, betrayal, and vengeance? For how long must it continue?
"The shadows of Mei Ling has been haunting this family like a curse," he said as he finished bandaging the other man's wound, his voice turned suddenly cold as he continued. "Now is where it ends."
"The tea...," Fei Long said quietly, his expression hidden in the curtains of his jet black hair. He’d noticed his breathing becoming difficult a while ago, and now his stomach was beginning to burn inside.
"It's a very old recipe, passed down for generations in my family," the doctor explained as he rose from the chair. "I'm surprised it has taken this long to affect you. Death should have been painless - that much I wanted to give you. But since your body doesn't seem to react normally to it, I'm afraid you will suffer quite a while before you die. Unless..."
A strip of fabric was slipped across his throat, and in the split of a second before it tightened, the leader of Baishe grabbed the hand that held the silk belt and twisted as he spun himself around. The cracking of the old man’s bones was the only sound that could be heard before a surgery knife was buried all the way in the doctor's neck, eliminating the possibility of the victim making a sound from the attack.
Fei Long stood over the old man who was now lying on the floor, gagging from the knife and blood that began to pool in his throat. His eyes turned as sharp as the knife he had flung just seconds ago.
"The reason my body doesn't react normally to it is because I am immune," he declared. Ever since he was a child, he had been given small amounts of poison by the family doctor who was convinced that he was at risk, to make sure he would not die from it. What Fei Long did not say, was the fact that he was immune to some, not all poisons. The substance, whatever it was, was affecting him to a certain degree. He could tell it was slowing him down and would soon lower his precision. And at that point he could not say for sure if death was just delayed or that the substance truly could not kill him. All he knew was that he still had time.
The doctor struggled and attempted to speak, but the knife did not allow him to. Fei Long leaned forward, close enough for the man to see the expression in his eyes and whispered slowly but surely, "You are right. This madness has to end, and end it I will - with Toh’s blood, not mine," he said, firmly gripping the knife’s handle with his right hand. "I am my mother’s son, and I. Will. Not. Yield!”
On his last word, Fei Long twisted the blade with one quick motion. He waited until the old man stopped struggling before pulling out the knife. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he rose to his feet and straightened himself.
He did not want to kill the old man, and had it been a few weeks ago he might have felt some compassion for Phillip Toh. But the moment the man had decided Alexei's life was expendable and intended to use Mikhail as a tool to hurt him, he no longer had room for compassion. No, he could not die. He must not die. Not when his mother had paid for his life with hers, not while Mikhail’s life was at stake. He did not care if he had to butcher the whole world to get out of there. No one was going to take anything from him ever again. Not this old man, not Yan Tsui, and especially not Toh.
***
The room smelled like Fei Long.
It was the first thought that entered Yan Tsui’s mind when he stepped into the penthouse at Baishe’s headquarters. Even without being told, he could instantly tell that it had been his brother’s personal space and one he’d used excessively. Fei Long’s taste had not changed, and everything about the room confirmed his presumption - the antique furniture, the delicate silk upholstery, the books that could always tell him which chair Fei Long liked to sit on, the air that smelled of jasmine infused oolong tea mixed with the fragrance of his brother’s hair, and a sense of tranquility that felt as though the world had come to a complete stop.
It was this last aspect that Yan Tsui despised the most.
The world had never come to a complete stop for him. Everywhere he looked someone was getting ahead of him, someone had been praised more than him, someone had achieved more, and someone had been…loved more. There was always judgment in his father’s eyes that served as a reminder, that the moment he stopped, everyone would walk by and over him. All his life he had pushed himself to excel in everything he had ever been told or expected to do as heir to the Liu family. This he had succeeded in ability, but they had never loved him.
And there he was, Fei Long, his little brother who had always won everyone’s heart effortlessly. Fei Long, whose heart had been too weak to rule, and whose martial arts skills could never match his own, had always been the one they’d cherished ever since he was young. Father’s disapproving eyes were reserved only for him, and forgiveness only for the younger, adopted son. People smiled when they saw his little brother and swooned over how beautiful he was. With him they were only there to judge. As a child, to him, Fei Long had always been a pebble in his shoe, especially when their father looked at that boy with much affection in his eyes and gently stroke his hair.
His father never touched him.
Somewhere along the way he’d discovered how to eliminate the pain and anger that plagued his heart for years. Somehow, he started to feel better when he could gain control over the source of his irritation, when he could make his little brother do things for him or because of him. Fei Long was to smile only when he’d allowed him to smile and to cry whenever he wanted him to cry. He remembered how good it felt to know that everyone's favorite boy was at his mercy. Fei Long had everything, and Fei Long belonged to him. By the time they had reached their teens, he could not stand seeing anyone having an influence on his brother but him.
He poured himself a drink and seated himself behind the desk he knew his brother had used on a daily basis. The leather upholstery of the chair had been worn down to a certain degree through excessive use. He remembered how Fei Long had liked to sit behind a desk working or reading for hours each day. The man liked his solitude, and Yan Tsui hated it, for it was during these times that Fei Long had retreated into his own world where he could not touch.
But other than those times he’d always had complete control over his brother, and Fei Long had never stood up to him...until that man came along. He could still feel it now - the pain that resembled a punch in the stomach when he’d heard that Fei Long had disobeyed his order, the way his blood boiled to see the defiance on his brother’s face - all for the sake of that man. Someone was gaining control over Fei Long, threatening to take away from him his most prized possession - a living proof that he was stronger and more deserving of that recognition they had never given him. He had tried to prevent it at all costs, even when it meant ending the old man’s life prematurely. And just as he thought, to the last minute of his life, the man had looked at him as nothing more than a pebble in his shoe.
In the end he’d lost it all - the triad, the acknowledgement, and Fei Long. But things were going to change, now that he was the one sitting on his father’s throne - a position that was supposed to be his and his alone - and Fei Long was back within his grasp, in his control. He’d show the old man, even now in his grave, that he was the one who deserved it all, that Fei Long was just his puppet, that he was a better man, that he was a better son.
A commotion from the hallway startled him from his thoughts. From the sound of the footsteps, a man was approaching the door followed by a group of men he assumed to be Baishe’s guards. A few seconds later the door flung open, revealing a stranger - a European man in his thirties, blond with blue eyes, a strikingly handsome face and a bold, strong figure that stood almost a head taller than all the six armed guards who were trying to catch up with him.
He kept himself seated as the man approached him slowly but confidently, ignoring the guards that apparently did not quite know how to handle the situation. He had to admit the expression on the man's face was difficult to read whether he'd come with hostile intentions or was just there for business, but either way, he should have never been allowed to barge into the boss’ private quarters in that manner. The man had both hands in his pockets and appeared to be unarmed, although, if he was not mistaken, the bulk underneath the leather jacket told Yan Tsui otherwise. Incompetent fools. They didn’t even frisk him.
“How did he get in here?" Yan Tsui asked one of his men disapprovingly while keeping his eyes fixed on the intruder.
"He...had level one clearance from Fei Long-sama, … we weren't sure if...," the man stuttered and stopped mid-sentence when he came to realize the mistake in that logic. With new management comes new rules, and they should never have let the man stroll into the building so easily. But then again, knowing who the intruder was, attacking him was a decision too big for them to make on their own.
Level one clearance was reserved for family members, Yan Tsui recalled as he continued to study the man in front of him. Russian, he thought. At first glance, the man seemed a little too young to be of high importance and the fact that he showed up dressed like some kind of biker did not help. But then again, small time gangsters and bikers don't usually own a $17,000 Franck muller conquistador, not to mention sporting a ring with a blue garnet the size of a small thumb around so casually. From the information he’d been given, he had an idea who it might be, but the manner in which the man appeared at his door was nothing short of a surprise.
The man stared back at him, unaffected by the way his presence had been ignored and reached inside his leather jacket casually. The Russian merely raised a brow as the guards promptly aimed six automatic guns at him from every direction of the room and continued to take out a pack of Treasurer Black to light himself a roll. When he decided to speak, it was in Russian. "We need to talk."
"Mikhail Vladimirovich Arbatov," Yan Tsui cited aloud the name he'd heard over and over again from Phillip Toh. Now he could see why the man had attracted so much attention. His overly loud appearance alone would stick out like a sore thumb anywhere he was, while the Russian’s daring attitude gave his presence an air of in-your-face confidence that almost seemed insulting depending on how one looks at it. The man had basically waltz into his lair alone, lit himself a smoke in his office without permission, and intentionally spoken to him in Russian - not Chinese or English, both of which he should be able communicate with more than fluently. Fei Long had gotten himself a good catch, that is if the man managed to live long enough with that reckless attitude.
"I see my little brother's taste has changed quite a bit. You are his new boy toy, are you not?" he asked deliberately in Cantonese.
"I am no boy," Mikhail responded without care as he seated himself uninvited and threw one leg over the other casually. "But whether he toys with me, that is strictly personal, and I’m sure you don’t want them to hear."
Yan Tsui stared at the man across the desk quietly, trying to make out his true intention. The man must have known about Fei Long to come to him so quickly, but he’d expected a different attitude from Mikhail Arbatov, who, at that moment, appeared too calm and collected considering the situation. If not for that certain something he glimpsed in those vivid, wolf-like eyes, he would have thought the news about his brother's relationship with the man were simply rumors. But that something was enough to tell Yan Tsui that he indeed did not want his men standing around for the conversation to follow.
“Leave us,” he ordered the guards. He could not risk the truth about Fei Long’s false resignation to be out. From the lips of his lover, his men could find it more credible than any other evidence and could stir up much trouble.
When the room was cleared, the new leader of Baishe rose to pour himself another drink, ignoring the usual etiquette of offering one to the guest. As far as he was concerned, the man did not count as one. "Go on," he said to the Russian who was still sitting at the desk, seemingly unaffected by his movements around the room.
There was a moment of silence before the response came, and Yan Tsui could sense clearly the tension in Mikhail Arbatov’s shoulder as he fixed his eyes on the desk. The Russian was still smoking, but each puff seemed excessively long and heavy. His cigarette hand trembled a little as it moved, and while his expression did not show much emotions, if at all, the tightness of his jaws told Yan Tsui the words about to be spoken were threatening to cost the man more than he could afford.
"Is he alive?" The Russian asked after taking another long draw on the cigarette, his expression turned as hard as a rock. It was simply too difficult to tell if he was straining to hold something back or if he no longer cared about the answer.
The rightful heir of Baishe raised his brow to the directness of that question. He had anticipated it to come up eventually, just not so soon. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”
“Answer the question,” Mikhail Arbatov demanded, his eyes flashed a blue flame that could very well burn a hole in the desk as he spoke.
It was then that Yan Tsui realized the man did care, and cared deeply. It was clear to him then, how much effort it took for Mikhail Arbatov to restrain himself from leaping off that chair to break his neck, and how little he cared for the consequences. The previous did not worry him, knowing it simply could not be accomplished. The latter, however, made the man much, much more dangerous than he'd anticipated. That Japanese man Fei Long had picked was reasonable, rational, and careful, making him predictable to a certain degree. Mikhail Arbatov, on the contrary, appeared to have switched from reckless to cunning to aggressive in the past few minutes since he'd walked himself into the room. He could not tell for sure when the man was wearing a mask and when he wasn't, or if he had one at all to begin with. He was too unpredictable and Yan Tsui found himself compelled to tip toe around this man a little.
“Yes,” he nodded, keeping his answer short and neutral. “For now.”
The Russian did not sigh as he'd expected. He just sat there smoking as though the answer, no matter what it turned out to be, had been anticipated and a course of action had been planned accordingly a long time ago. It made Yan Tsui wonder, though, what the outcome would be had he answered “no.”
"What will it take?" Mikhail asked after a moment of silence, still keeping his poker face intact.
He wants to negotiate, Yan Tsui thought, surprised. It appears the man was not all reckless and suicidal, after all.
“The question is,” he said, toying with the glass in his hand as he spoke. “What are you willing to offer?”
“My continued support for Baishe and a large sum as compensation,” Mikhail replied.
The triad leader sneered. “Should I tell my brother how cheap your affection for him truly is?”
“My shares in the Macau casino,” he added.
“I’m sure he’s worth much, much more than that,” the Chinese man said with a cunning smile. It was intriguing how much this man was willing to give up for Fei Long and how much he could gain just by keeping his little brother captive.
Mikhail rose from his seat and walked towards the other man, pouring himself a glass of bourbon before he replied effortlessly, as though it had been a decision that came easily for him, “Everything I own in China.”
Yan Tsui smiled. The Arbatovs owned enough business in Macau alone to match nearly half of Baishe’s total income. It would have been the largest ransom ever paid if he’d agreed. “You do realize that my position is compromised if he returns. The way I see it, there is nothing you can give me that will worth as much as Baishe.”
“You can keep Baishe,” Mikhail confirmed readily. “I will make sure of it.”
“And make yourself his enemy?” Interesting.
There was a strange look in the Russian’s eyes that appeared for a split second before the man reclaimed control of his emotions. “That’s my problem.”
With that response, Yan Tsui began to laugh. Fei Long had had many men and women who were obsessed enough to do stupid things for him, but this Russian had to be the craziest one of all. “Let me get this straight. You’re willing to lose all your businesses in China to save him, knowing that without Baishe, he is just a man with a pretty face and no worth, and that he would end up hating you for it?”
“You are mistaken,” Mikhail said, staring straight into the other man’s eyes with unwavering conviction. “I am willing to lose all my businesses in China for a man who is worth more than everything I own and Baishe. Whether or not he hates me is irrelevant.”
The way he said those words felt like an insult, and Yan Tsui found himself clenching his teeth in anger. No matter how much time had passed, Fei Long was still the one they treasured - with or without power. You are as worthless as he is valuable to me was what they all thought when they looked at him in the past with respect to his brother, just as Arbatov was looking at him now.
“On the other hand,” the Russian continued as he placed his drink on the bar and leaned closer to the Chinese man, enough for the hostility in his eyes to be seen and felt underneath the skin. “If you refuse and allow Toh to kill him, know that I will bring it all down - Baishe and everything you ever own and treasure. You will die a worthless street dog, this I guarantee.”
And then Mikhail Arbatov smiled.
“But I know you won’t allow it, would you? After all, you feed off his failure, not death,” he continued, slapping the other man’s cheek firmly to make it sink in. “Think about my offer and let me know.”
***
P.S. I apologize for the time it takes to update, and that when I do the plot still does not move. But this has been something I've really longed to write: Fei's parents and what really goes on in Yan's head. I hope it's not too boring. Please let me know what you think ^^! I'm always open to any kind of comment.
Title: Retribution Eleven
Rating: PG-13
Warning: None
Characters: Fei Long, Mikhail, Yan
Spoiler: Spoiler for NT arc
Disclaimer: All characters belong to YA sensei.
Beta: angel0399
Previous Chapters: For new readers, 'Retribution' is the third arc of a Mik x Fei trilogy that I've suffered my readers with since 2007. In order to make sense of it I'm afraid you will need to read 'Cruel Intentions' and its sequel 'Revelation' before you begin 'Retribution.' All the links are organized on the side bar of my lj kajornwan along with the trilogy's one-shot fillers. Russian, Chinese, Polish, Spanish, and newly added French translations by readers are also found here. To make life even easier, a dear reader gryffin-draco has gone through the trouble of putting these in PDF files for download. Cruel Intentions and Revelation. Thank you so much sweetie.
The room was as silent as a morgue when they’d left. He could still recall how the softest of sounds were amplified ten folds in such a room - how every step he’d made towards Alexei’s lifeless body landed as loud as thunder, and how the shuffling of his clothes made him wince every time he’d moved. Even the sound of his breathing being held momentarily when he’d felt Alexei’s cold, stiff hand could not be missed.
You go and finish what you’ve started, and when you’re done, you come home.
It wasn’t the last thing Alexei said to him, but it was something that kept echoing in his mind. The home he grew up in had already been destroyed the night his father died, and he had never thought it was possible to rebuild or replace such a home. He’d remembered Alexei’s strange smile that day when he offered him another, welcoming him into their family. And since then he had imagined, time and time again, going back to that home Alexei had promised - a place that smells of freshly brewed coffee in the morning and Mikhail’s cooking at night, where Alexei’s laughter could be heard and his brother’s disapproving gaze could be seen thereafter, where he could sleep like a child as Mikhail’s hand gently plays with his hair, a place he would always regret having to leave and count the days when he would return.
He had finished what he’d started, but he was not going home. Ironically, he was being suspended from the ceiling in a room that would soon double as his mortuary. It certainly felt like one - the silence, the darkness, and the haunting calls of the dead that hung in the air. All he could hear was the sound of his blood dripping on the floor, constant and deliberate like the ticking of an old clock. The chains that held him above ground chimed so loud it threatened his sanity every time he moved. No, he was not going home, and in time it would be him lying cold and stiff like Alexei in that morgue, only no one would come to identify or claim his body. No one would even know that he’d died.
Abandoned at birth and deserted at death. How appropriate.
With that thought Fei Long began to laugh, only to find himself growling in pain seconds later from the movements that made his wounds sting. Wait one minute in between... He wished he’d thought of it during his own interrogation. It was one hell of a way to maximize the pain and he’d had to grit his teeth until his gums bled to not cry out every time the whip stripped off a good chunk of his skin. He wondered how his back looked at that moment and whether it resembled Mikhail’s now. “What a pair we make,” Mikhail used to say. How so very true, especially now that their scars would match.
They came for him some time later to heal his injuries so that they could give him more. The physician was an old man possibly in his seventies, not too different from how his own family doctor looked. The man had both arms behind his back and held himself regally with no effort despite his age. From the way he dressed Fei Long could tell the man was a high-ranking physician, not some random lackey who knew how to apply a bandage. It wasn’t clear to him why Phillip Toh would send someone so important to see to his wounds, but by that time the pain on his back didn’t really allow him to care.
The old man approached him with two guards and paused a few steps before him. Fei Long looked up and saw something in those narrow, dark brown eyes as they studied his face. It looked like recognition, but he was certain they had never met before. The man gave him a faint smile when their eyes met but said nothing before he turned to walk away.
“Take him down and bring him to my room. I can’t dress his wounds like this,” he told the guards as he left.
They took him down as instructed and dragged him along the dimly lit hallway into an elevator. Fei Long stole a few glances and realized he was being held on the basement level in a building that had just two floors above ground. They took him up to the first floor and pushed him out into another hallway. The traditional Chinese decoration and layout of the area made Fei Long realize he was being held inside one of Toh’s many residences. The fact that they spoke mainly Mandarin meant that they were likely in a house in Mainland China. Having been raised in Hong Kong, he couldn’t quite place their accent, which might have helped him pinpoint his location. But at that point, where in the world he was wasn’t the problem. The real problem was getting out of a house he expected to be guarded like a fortress.
The room they took him to was a medicine room with tall, antique chests of drawers that covered two entire walls and smelled of Chinese herbs and incense. It would have been an environment he could relax a little in had the wounds on his back been a little less painful. By the time they sat him down on a wooden stool he could hardly feel anything but the sting on his back.
“Leave us,” the doctor instructed the guards who promptly complied. Fei Long could hear them waiting on the other side of the door, along with the other guards that patrolled the area not too far from where they were. Five, maybe six, he listened and made a mental note.
“Take this,” the older man said as he offered a cup of what appeared to be some kind of herbal tea. “It will help with the pain.”
Seeing the hesitation from his patient, he gave Fei Long a smile that was both warm and yet strangely stiff in a way. “Don’t worry,” he said with a calm and soothing voice. “If you die I will be dead too. And I intend to live a while longer.”
It made sense, Fei Long thought. Given the fact that Toh would never let him die for a longer time than he’d prefer to live under such torture, killing him now would be a saintly act according to his half brother and would have never been allowed. On top of it the man would have taken pleasure in doing it himself, with his own hands. And so, after deliberating over it for a few more seconds, Fei Long decided to take the tea.
“They told me you look like her, but I never thought you’d resemble her this much,” said the doctor as he began to clean the wounds. When he’d heard about who young master Toh had taken captive, he had to see for himself. The first time he walked into the room he thought he’d seen a ghost. It became clear to him then, why his young master found it so hard to forget or forgive.
Fei Long’s lips stretched into a sarcastic smile as he realized the answer to the riddle. It was indeed recognition he saw back then. The man knew his mother, which was why he’d taken it upon himself to treat the prisoner’s wounds when anyone else could have done it. Until that time he’d forgotten completely that some of them might have seen or known his mother, not that it would have made a difference to his captors - or him, for that matter.
“And you’re here to tell me how beautiful and kind she was?” He asked with a mocking tone. A long time ago he might have given a damn about what his wretched mother was like, now he couldn’t care less. The woman had ruined his life in more ways than one, and even now he was paying for the wrongs he did not do, thanks to her. As far as he was concerned he had no mother. He’d never needed one, especially one that didn’t want him.
The old man paused for while as he sensed the sarcasm in the other man’s voice. He realized then, how little the young man in front of him knew about his parents. “No. I am here to tell you a story that may set you free.”
“And why exactly would you want to do that?” In his world, nothing ever comes for free, ever.
“Because all of this madness has to end.”
Madness, Fei Long sneered. What an appropriate use of word. There had been nothing normal about his life since the time of his birth, and everything that had happened up until then had indeed been a result of a madness that was both contagious and never-ending. It might actually be interesting to know, after all, about the true source of all this - the woman who gave birth to him.
“She was beautiful, but I don’t think kind is the word to describe your mother,” the old man said as he began to clean the wounds, trying to ignore the uneasiness he felt within him. As a doctor, it wasn’t easy healing an injury that he knew would appear again as soon as it was healed. It was just like this with her before she was with child, and just like then, there was nothing he could do.
“The first time master Toh took her home, the mistress had called her a whore in front of the servants. Your mother punched her hard enough to leave a huge bruise on her cheek for two weeks. I don’t think anyone would ever forget that incident,” he recalled. Chen Mei Ling had made it crystal clear on the very first day that no one would get away with calling her names. What worsened the situation, however, was the fact that master Toh had allowed her to do whatever she pleased, except leaving the premises.
“What did he do? Had her whipped just like this?” Fei Long asked with a chuckle. They were father and son, how different can they be?
“Whipped? No. Master Toh loved her. He was obsessed with her. Mei Ling was untouchable.” In a way and except by him.
Mei Ling. Hearing her name spoken made Fei Long’s throat constrict. Until then he had managed to deny her existence so that it would not trouble him. Now that she has a name, it would be impossible for him to completely erase her from his mind. And now, the question that he’d always convinced himself to be insignificant had resurfaced and demanded an answer. “If he’d loved her… why did she give me away?”
The doctor paused a little as he began to apply the medicine over the young man’s back and realized how even his skin was just like hers, despite being marked from the beatings. Those sharp, amethyst eyes, too, had the same fire that could make the entire room suffocate. Mei Ling was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and also the most vicious he’d ever come across. He could see a lot of her in the man sitting in front of him - his looks, his hair, the way he carries himself, and how stubborn and haughty he appears to be. There was so much resemblance between them that was more than physical, even though she never had the chance to raise her son.
“Because that love was never returned,” he explained. He did not know how they’d started out, but by the time he had taken her home, not returning his love was an understatement. “I have never seen so much hatred in a woman. Your father...”
“He’s not my father," Fei Long interrupted, quickly and bitterly. It was enough having a mother who abandoned him; he didn't need a father who was willing to kill him without a second thought.
The doctor paused momentarily after realizing the hostility in that tone. He had forgotten what the man in front of him had once gone to jail for. Once he'd thought his master’s death was an accident, now he was not so sure. "Master Toh," he corrected himself, “was obsessed with her in ways that could not be restrained. Unfortunately, the longer she refused him, the more it grew to the point that he would stop at nothing to have her."
He could still remember it well, the bruises that kept appearing on Mei Ling's otherwise flawless face, the self-inflicted wounds on the mistress' arms, and the madness that nearly destroyed the house of Toh - all because of one woman. It was the kind of rumors and gossips everyone knew about but didn't dare speak out loud. The guards whispered about it in the dark, the maids exchanged awkward glances in silence, and he'd treated reoccurring wounds without question. With several changes of servants and management, the story had somewhat been lost in all those years, but to him it would never disappear, especially when the madness apparently had not ended.
"They were best friends from childhood, did you know? Liu Laoban and Master Toh," he told the young man. "But it all turned to history when she came along. She was Liu Laoban's betrothed - young and beautiful enough to steal every man's soul. And Master Toh wanted her...enough to break that friendship."
Fei Long felt his heart sank as he listened to the truth his father never once uttered. He must have wanted to avoid talking about her at all costs, to the extent that Fei Long had always assumed they did not know each other. It would also mean that he’d loved her dearly, and thinking about her must have been painful for him to keep it untold to the day he died. But there was something else too that warmed his heart with such a revelation - the fact that he wasn’t just an adopted child to his father, after all. He was her son.
"What happened?" By that time he had to know. It was his father's story, his pain, his loss, and his love for the mother he never knew and had always despised.
"No one knows for sure, now that all three of them are gone," he replied, his tone filled with regret and a barely noticeable hint of grief. "All we know is that some time later the engagement between her and Liu Laoban was broken off because another woman was carrying his child. Liu Laoban married her instead and seven months later she died giving birth to a boy."
"Yan Tsui," Fei Long said quietly in comprehension. It sounded like marriage for the sake of pregnancy, and he couldn't help but feel that there was some conspiracy behind it. Yan Tsui was his father's heir and true son, and yet at times even he could see the harshness in his father's eyes when he looked at Yan. He often wondered what it was, and now he knew. And at that moment he had to wonder if Yan Tsui had known any of this, and if it had been the reason why his brother had never once shown any affection towards him, even though they did grow up together. Perhaps after all this time, Yan Tsui, too, had been struggling as the unwanted child, an accident. Perhaps to him, he had been the son his father should have had - her son.
"Soon after her death they became close again, Liu Laoban and Mei Ling. And that was when Master Toh ... interfered."
"Interfered?" Fei Long asked, noticing the restraint in the older man's voice that told him the truth was far more extreme than what it implied.
"We were all surprised when he brought her home, since everyone knew she was Liu Laoban's woman. From her hostility it was obvious that she had been forced to comply, but by what means exactly no one truly knew ," he explained and paused as his memory resurfaced. It was a mystery why a man as powerful as Liu Laoban had allowed it to happen, and how Mei Ling, who clearly wasn't the kind of woman one could dominate or control easily, could be forced by Toh to leave her lover for him. No one could explain it - no one but those residing in the compound who were fortunate enough to overhear certain conversations.
"You do," Fei Long, sensing something from the old man's voice, pressed on.
"Some of us heard ... things. I cannot say I know for certain," the doctor said as he continued to wrap the gauze around the other man's body. "There were threats and evidences. They fought, sometimes loud enough to be heard by the entire house. And he'd yell at her, reminded her of the reason why she had to obey him. He knew things - secrets about Liu Laoban that she would die to protect."
Blackmail. Fei Long's fist tightened as his blood began to boil. It was obvious. As childhood friends his father must have trusted Toh and shared many secrets with him. Among those secrets he could imagine there were many that could have compromised his father's position or put him in jail if they were made known publicly. The fact that she allowed herself to be blackmailed meant that she must have loved his father, and loved him enough to sacrifice her own freedom and pride to save him. 0But was it just freedom and pride?
"Did he hurt her?"
The doctor shook his head slightly. "Master Toh treated her kindly...most of the time. But some nights we would hear her scream, not in torture, but in hate, when he would force himself upon her. The next day I would be summoned to see to her bruises. They were results of her struggles though, not from abuse, never from abuse," the doctor recalled. There was something else everyone also noticed - the affection Master Toh had for her, his own torment when she looked at him in disgust, and all his efforts to win her favor that she coldly discarded like trash every time and without fail.
"For two years she had lived with us, and no matter how many times he had taken her, your mother never once gave in. To the very last minute, she did not yield." Mei Ling was one hell of a woman, he had to admit. She had a presence that burned itself permanently into one's memory - a woman beautiful enough to blind. But such beauty should never be possible in this world, and she had paid for it with a price no one should have to.
"She became more manageable when she found out she was pregnant. We all thought she had finally given in. But the day you were born she had you snuck out of the house and placed in front of the Liu residence, knowing that once he took you in Master Toh would never be able to get you back," the old man said, his voice trembled a little at the end as he recalled the events that followed.
"She was in her room, dressed up in her most beautiful qi pao when he went to her, furious about the treacherous act she had carried out to perfection. I followed him, hoping that there was something I could do if he were to strike her in his anger," he paused momentarily, taking a deep breath to steady his voice. His fingertips had gone cold as the dreadful memory returned - images that had haunted him in his dreams years afterwards.
"And there she stood, looking prouder and more beautiful than she had ever been, laughing triumphantly in his face. ‘Look and remember,' she said. 'You never had me, and you never will!'" He could still remember the look on her face and the way she radiated as if she was a divine being they could not touch. She was blindingly beautiful, but in a deadly way that made one's hair stand on end. Even in his rage, Master Toh had found himself speechless and unable to move.
"She hurled the lantern she had been holding at her feet. Before we knew it the entire room was on fire...," his voice trailed off as he found himself lost in his own memory. What he didn't say was that they might have been able to save her had they acted sooner. But they had found themselves nailed to the floor at the sight of her in that room. He would never forget the way her face glowed brilliantly in the fire that caught on to her hair, how her eyes seemed to have turned red like the flames that surrounded her body when she looked at the two men in front of her as though they were two powerless creatures in the face of a goddess. And indeed they were powerless. She was untouchable, unreachable, now in the flame that was meant to claim her life and set her free. In the midst of Master Toh's scream, she continued to laugh. And had he not been strong enough to hold his master back she would have taken his life with her as retribution.
"We all witnessed the madness that consumed Master Toh for years after her death. But it was the mistress and her son that paid the ultimate price. He would dress her up in Mei Ling's clothes and used her as your mother's substitute. Convinced that her death resulted from the fact that she had you, he could not stand the sight of a child, including his own, and he would beat up young Master Toh, sometimes for just being there," he explained. He could still feel the pain in his heart as he recalled the little boy that clung to his mother's dress, shaking with fear, even though he knew better than anyone the extent of her helplessness against his father. She was his only protection, no matter how defenseless she truly was. But she, too, deserted him.
"Soon, the mistress became more and more unstable. Until.." the doctor paused momentarily as he recalled the day another tragedy happened. "It was young Master Toh who found her. She'd hung herself in your mother's room, wearing your mother's clothes."
Her son, he recalled, only six years old at the time, was found curled up in the corner, staring at her without making a sound. He was in shock, everyone thought, for the boy did not cry - not then and not after. Only he seemed to see it - the burning hatred in those eyes that grew in intensity day by day. He had managed to distance the boy from his neglectful and abusive father, hoping that the child might learn to forget all the tragedy that happened years ago. And for decades Phillip Toh had lived quietly in the shadows, until words reached him that Master Toh was considering taking his other son, Mei Ling's son, back as heir. The look on the young master's face that day was impossible to forget, and he knew it was not remorse that was displayed on the young man's face as he stood above his father's corpse, but a form of gratification that was both bitter and dangerous. He knew then that the madness would not end with the death of Toh senior - the last of those three. The curse had carried on in the blood and soul of young Master Toh, and now, of Liu Fei Long of Baishe. How many more lives must be sacrificed before it was over - this hatred, betrayal, and vengeance? For how long must it continue?
"The shadows of Mei Ling has been haunting this family like a curse," he said as he finished bandaging the other man's wound, his voice turned suddenly cold as he continued. "Now is where it ends."
"The tea...," Fei Long said quietly, his expression hidden in the curtains of his jet black hair. He’d noticed his breathing becoming difficult a while ago, and now his stomach was beginning to burn inside.
"It's a very old recipe, passed down for generations in my family," the doctor explained as he rose from the chair. "I'm surprised it has taken this long to affect you. Death should have been painless - that much I wanted to give you. But since your body doesn't seem to react normally to it, I'm afraid you will suffer quite a while before you die. Unless..."
A strip of fabric was slipped across his throat, and in the split of a second before it tightened, the leader of Baishe grabbed the hand that held the silk belt and twisted as he spun himself around. The cracking of the old man’s bones was the only sound that could be heard before a surgery knife was buried all the way in the doctor's neck, eliminating the possibility of the victim making a sound from the attack.
Fei Long stood over the old man who was now lying on the floor, gagging from the knife and blood that began to pool in his throat. His eyes turned as sharp as the knife he had flung just seconds ago.
"The reason my body doesn't react normally to it is because I am immune," he declared. Ever since he was a child, he had been given small amounts of poison by the family doctor who was convinced that he was at risk, to make sure he would not die from it. What Fei Long did not say, was the fact that he was immune to some, not all poisons. The substance, whatever it was, was affecting him to a certain degree. He could tell it was slowing him down and would soon lower his precision. And at that point he could not say for sure if death was just delayed or that the substance truly could not kill him. All he knew was that he still had time.
The doctor struggled and attempted to speak, but the knife did not allow him to. Fei Long leaned forward, close enough for the man to see the expression in his eyes and whispered slowly but surely, "You are right. This madness has to end, and end it I will - with Toh’s blood, not mine," he said, firmly gripping the knife’s handle with his right hand. "I am my mother’s son, and I. Will. Not. Yield!”
On his last word, Fei Long twisted the blade with one quick motion. He waited until the old man stopped struggling before pulling out the knife. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he rose to his feet and straightened himself.
He did not want to kill the old man, and had it been a few weeks ago he might have felt some compassion for Phillip Toh. But the moment the man had decided Alexei's life was expendable and intended to use Mikhail as a tool to hurt him, he no longer had room for compassion. No, he could not die. He must not die. Not when his mother had paid for his life with hers, not while Mikhail’s life was at stake. He did not care if he had to butcher the whole world to get out of there. No one was going to take anything from him ever again. Not this old man, not Yan Tsui, and especially not Toh.
***
The room smelled like Fei Long.
It was the first thought that entered Yan Tsui’s mind when he stepped into the penthouse at Baishe’s headquarters. Even without being told, he could instantly tell that it had been his brother’s personal space and one he’d used excessively. Fei Long’s taste had not changed, and everything about the room confirmed his presumption - the antique furniture, the delicate silk upholstery, the books that could always tell him which chair Fei Long liked to sit on, the air that smelled of jasmine infused oolong tea mixed with the fragrance of his brother’s hair, and a sense of tranquility that felt as though the world had come to a complete stop.
It was this last aspect that Yan Tsui despised the most.
The world had never come to a complete stop for him. Everywhere he looked someone was getting ahead of him, someone had been praised more than him, someone had achieved more, and someone had been…loved more. There was always judgment in his father’s eyes that served as a reminder, that the moment he stopped, everyone would walk by and over him. All his life he had pushed himself to excel in everything he had ever been told or expected to do as heir to the Liu family. This he had succeeded in ability, but they had never loved him.
And there he was, Fei Long, his little brother who had always won everyone’s heart effortlessly. Fei Long, whose heart had been too weak to rule, and whose martial arts skills could never match his own, had always been the one they’d cherished ever since he was young. Father’s disapproving eyes were reserved only for him, and forgiveness only for the younger, adopted son. People smiled when they saw his little brother and swooned over how beautiful he was. With him they were only there to judge. As a child, to him, Fei Long had always been a pebble in his shoe, especially when their father looked at that boy with much affection in his eyes and gently stroke his hair.
His father never touched him.
Somewhere along the way he’d discovered how to eliminate the pain and anger that plagued his heart for years. Somehow, he started to feel better when he could gain control over the source of his irritation, when he could make his little brother do things for him or because of him. Fei Long was to smile only when he’d allowed him to smile and to cry whenever he wanted him to cry. He remembered how good it felt to know that everyone's favorite boy was at his mercy. Fei Long had everything, and Fei Long belonged to him. By the time they had reached their teens, he could not stand seeing anyone having an influence on his brother but him.
He poured himself a drink and seated himself behind the desk he knew his brother had used on a daily basis. The leather upholstery of the chair had been worn down to a certain degree through excessive use. He remembered how Fei Long had liked to sit behind a desk working or reading for hours each day. The man liked his solitude, and Yan Tsui hated it, for it was during these times that Fei Long had retreated into his own world where he could not touch.
But other than those times he’d always had complete control over his brother, and Fei Long had never stood up to him...until that man came along. He could still feel it now - the pain that resembled a punch in the stomach when he’d heard that Fei Long had disobeyed his order, the way his blood boiled to see the defiance on his brother’s face - all for the sake of that man. Someone was gaining control over Fei Long, threatening to take away from him his most prized possession - a living proof that he was stronger and more deserving of that recognition they had never given him. He had tried to prevent it at all costs, even when it meant ending the old man’s life prematurely. And just as he thought, to the last minute of his life, the man had looked at him as nothing more than a pebble in his shoe.
In the end he’d lost it all - the triad, the acknowledgement, and Fei Long. But things were going to change, now that he was the one sitting on his father’s throne - a position that was supposed to be his and his alone - and Fei Long was back within his grasp, in his control. He’d show the old man, even now in his grave, that he was the one who deserved it all, that Fei Long was just his puppet, that he was a better man, that he was a better son.
A commotion from the hallway startled him from his thoughts. From the sound of the footsteps, a man was approaching the door followed by a group of men he assumed to be Baishe’s guards. A few seconds later the door flung open, revealing a stranger - a European man in his thirties, blond with blue eyes, a strikingly handsome face and a bold, strong figure that stood almost a head taller than all the six armed guards who were trying to catch up with him.
He kept himself seated as the man approached him slowly but confidently, ignoring the guards that apparently did not quite know how to handle the situation. He had to admit the expression on the man's face was difficult to read whether he'd come with hostile intentions or was just there for business, but either way, he should have never been allowed to barge into the boss’ private quarters in that manner. The man had both hands in his pockets and appeared to be unarmed, although, if he was not mistaken, the bulk underneath the leather jacket told Yan Tsui otherwise. Incompetent fools. They didn’t even frisk him.
“How did he get in here?" Yan Tsui asked one of his men disapprovingly while keeping his eyes fixed on the intruder.
"He...had level one clearance from Fei Long-sama, … we weren't sure if...," the man stuttered and stopped mid-sentence when he came to realize the mistake in that logic. With new management comes new rules, and they should never have let the man stroll into the building so easily. But then again, knowing who the intruder was, attacking him was a decision too big for them to make on their own.
Level one clearance was reserved for family members, Yan Tsui recalled as he continued to study the man in front of him. Russian, he thought. At first glance, the man seemed a little too young to be of high importance and the fact that he showed up dressed like some kind of biker did not help. But then again, small time gangsters and bikers don't usually own a $17,000 Franck muller conquistador, not to mention sporting a ring with a blue garnet the size of a small thumb around so casually. From the information he’d been given, he had an idea who it might be, but the manner in which the man appeared at his door was nothing short of a surprise.
The man stared back at him, unaffected by the way his presence had been ignored and reached inside his leather jacket casually. The Russian merely raised a brow as the guards promptly aimed six automatic guns at him from every direction of the room and continued to take out a pack of Treasurer Black to light himself a roll. When he decided to speak, it was in Russian. "We need to talk."
"Mikhail Vladimirovich Arbatov," Yan Tsui cited aloud the name he'd heard over and over again from Phillip Toh. Now he could see why the man had attracted so much attention. His overly loud appearance alone would stick out like a sore thumb anywhere he was, while the Russian’s daring attitude gave his presence an air of in-your-face confidence that almost seemed insulting depending on how one looks at it. The man had basically waltz into his lair alone, lit himself a smoke in his office without permission, and intentionally spoken to him in Russian - not Chinese or English, both of which he should be able communicate with more than fluently. Fei Long had gotten himself a good catch, that is if the man managed to live long enough with that reckless attitude.
"I see my little brother's taste has changed quite a bit. You are his new boy toy, are you not?" he asked deliberately in Cantonese.
"I am no boy," Mikhail responded without care as he seated himself uninvited and threw one leg over the other casually. "But whether he toys with me, that is strictly personal, and I’m sure you don’t want them to hear."
Yan Tsui stared at the man across the desk quietly, trying to make out his true intention. The man must have known about Fei Long to come to him so quickly, but he’d expected a different attitude from Mikhail Arbatov, who, at that moment, appeared too calm and collected considering the situation. If not for that certain something he glimpsed in those vivid, wolf-like eyes, he would have thought the news about his brother's relationship with the man were simply rumors. But that something was enough to tell Yan Tsui that he indeed did not want his men standing around for the conversation to follow.
“Leave us,” he ordered the guards. He could not risk the truth about Fei Long’s false resignation to be out. From the lips of his lover, his men could find it more credible than any other evidence and could stir up much trouble.
When the room was cleared, the new leader of Baishe rose to pour himself another drink, ignoring the usual etiquette of offering one to the guest. As far as he was concerned, the man did not count as one. "Go on," he said to the Russian who was still sitting at the desk, seemingly unaffected by his movements around the room.
There was a moment of silence before the response came, and Yan Tsui could sense clearly the tension in Mikhail Arbatov’s shoulder as he fixed his eyes on the desk. The Russian was still smoking, but each puff seemed excessively long and heavy. His cigarette hand trembled a little as it moved, and while his expression did not show much emotions, if at all, the tightness of his jaws told Yan Tsui the words about to be spoken were threatening to cost the man more than he could afford.
"Is he alive?" The Russian asked after taking another long draw on the cigarette, his expression turned as hard as a rock. It was simply too difficult to tell if he was straining to hold something back or if he no longer cared about the answer.
The rightful heir of Baishe raised his brow to the directness of that question. He had anticipated it to come up eventually, just not so soon. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”
“Answer the question,” Mikhail Arbatov demanded, his eyes flashed a blue flame that could very well burn a hole in the desk as he spoke.
It was then that Yan Tsui realized the man did care, and cared deeply. It was clear to him then, how much effort it took for Mikhail Arbatov to restrain himself from leaping off that chair to break his neck, and how little he cared for the consequences. The previous did not worry him, knowing it simply could not be accomplished. The latter, however, made the man much, much more dangerous than he'd anticipated. That Japanese man Fei Long had picked was reasonable, rational, and careful, making him predictable to a certain degree. Mikhail Arbatov, on the contrary, appeared to have switched from reckless to cunning to aggressive in the past few minutes since he'd walked himself into the room. He could not tell for sure when the man was wearing a mask and when he wasn't, or if he had one at all to begin with. He was too unpredictable and Yan Tsui found himself compelled to tip toe around this man a little.
“Yes,” he nodded, keeping his answer short and neutral. “For now.”
The Russian did not sigh as he'd expected. He just sat there smoking as though the answer, no matter what it turned out to be, had been anticipated and a course of action had been planned accordingly a long time ago. It made Yan Tsui wonder, though, what the outcome would be had he answered “no.”
"What will it take?" Mikhail asked after a moment of silence, still keeping his poker face intact.
He wants to negotiate, Yan Tsui thought, surprised. It appears the man was not all reckless and suicidal, after all.
“The question is,” he said, toying with the glass in his hand as he spoke. “What are you willing to offer?”
“My continued support for Baishe and a large sum as compensation,” Mikhail replied.
The triad leader sneered. “Should I tell my brother how cheap your affection for him truly is?”
“My shares in the Macau casino,” he added.
“I’m sure he’s worth much, much more than that,” the Chinese man said with a cunning smile. It was intriguing how much this man was willing to give up for Fei Long and how much he could gain just by keeping his little brother captive.
Mikhail rose from his seat and walked towards the other man, pouring himself a glass of bourbon before he replied effortlessly, as though it had been a decision that came easily for him, “Everything I own in China.”
Yan Tsui smiled. The Arbatovs owned enough business in Macau alone to match nearly half of Baishe’s total income. It would have been the largest ransom ever paid if he’d agreed. “You do realize that my position is compromised if he returns. The way I see it, there is nothing you can give me that will worth as much as Baishe.”
“You can keep Baishe,” Mikhail confirmed readily. “I will make sure of it.”
“And make yourself his enemy?” Interesting.
There was a strange look in the Russian’s eyes that appeared for a split second before the man reclaimed control of his emotions. “That’s my problem.”
With that response, Yan Tsui began to laugh. Fei Long had had many men and women who were obsessed enough to do stupid things for him, but this Russian had to be the craziest one of all. “Let me get this straight. You’re willing to lose all your businesses in China to save him, knowing that without Baishe, he is just a man with a pretty face and no worth, and that he would end up hating you for it?”
“You are mistaken,” Mikhail said, staring straight into the other man’s eyes with unwavering conviction. “I am willing to lose all my businesses in China for a man who is worth more than everything I own and Baishe. Whether or not he hates me is irrelevant.”
The way he said those words felt like an insult, and Yan Tsui found himself clenching his teeth in anger. No matter how much time had passed, Fei Long was still the one they treasured - with or without power. You are as worthless as he is valuable to me was what they all thought when they looked at him in the past with respect to his brother, just as Arbatov was looking at him now.
“On the other hand,” the Russian continued as he placed his drink on the bar and leaned closer to the Chinese man, enough for the hostility in his eyes to be seen and felt underneath the skin. “If you refuse and allow Toh to kill him, know that I will bring it all down - Baishe and everything you ever own and treasure. You will die a worthless street dog, this I guarantee.”
And then Mikhail Arbatov smiled.
“But I know you won’t allow it, would you? After all, you feed off his failure, not death,” he continued, slapping the other man’s cheek firmly to make it sink in. “Think about my offer and let me know.”
***
P.S. I apologize for the time it takes to update, and that when I do the plot still does not move. But this has been something I've really longed to write: Fei's parents and what really goes on in Yan's head. I hope it's not too boring. Please let me know what you think ^^! I'm always open to any kind of comment.