Chapter 42: The Consigliere

"Marvel, we need to talk."

Soon as the door was closed, Mikhail said to Marvel. It was just the two of them in the office room. When they were linked in an ingenuous gaze, the silence was unavoidable.

"Marvel is not here. Go away," Marvel told Mikhail nonchalantly.

"Don't give me that, brat!" Mikhail shouted in annoyance.

They were facing each other; Marvel was sitting on his swivel chair and Mikhail was standing across from him. Marvel's desk was in between them, volunteering to separate the dangerous moods of the two gentlemen.

The breezy wind of an early day and the heavy curls in the ashen sky hinted that the rain would soon follow. Mikhail looked at Marvel, studying his expression and waiting for a reaction toward his sudden visit, but Marvel had canceled his emotions before being read as he knew it might have been because of what happened lately that Mikhail came and for some reason, Marvel didn't like it.

Mikhail, though, didn't really seem to care about what Marvel was thinking about him. He just felt the need to meet the younger brother he cared about so much - not that he would ever admit it.

"Asta, right?" Mikhail underlined in a firm voice, starting the conversation with the name Marvel couldn't ignore. "Fire him now."

"What did you say?" Marvel snapped, narrowing his eyes in confusion and much more in irritation, though, he still kept his voice low at that point.

"I said I want you to fire that person named Asta now," Mikhail snapped back, repeating himself even if he knew Marvel could hear him clearly from the start.

If the table in between them were a person, it would have run away since the conversation began as it wouldn't turn any good.

"He's your type, right?" Mikhail confirmed, his sapphire blue eyes stayed unwaveringly at Marvel's steel blue ones.

There's no rule in the underworld when it comes to guilty pleasures, they said. Doing it with whoever you want - man or woman - doesn't matter, they said. But, to tell you the truth, it doesn't work that way.

Instead of an answer, the silence hung in the air. Marvel was crossing his arms above his chest, locking gaze with his uninvited guest who dared to question his personal choice.

"Don't just stare at me like that, you punk! I know he's your type!"

Marvel maintained a cool mien in the face of Mikhail's raised voice. The difference in their interest and effort only served to underscore the bad harmony in their way of communicating.

"I just saw him from meters away for a while, but I could clearly smell he reeked of your scent all over him! For fuck's sake, Marvel, what have you been doing?!"

Mikhail gritted his teeth when he spoke to suppress his loud voice as he couldn't contain his emotions anymore. Marvel, on the other hand, didn't look happy with what he heard.

"Mikhail, watch your mouth when you talk. Who do you think you're raising your voice at?"

"Give the damn formality a break! You're not even taking me seriously!"

In the end, Mikhail knew that Marvel didn't give a damn to any of the matters and even tried to avoid the most important thing. In Marvel's case, seeing Mikhail mad and troubled was satisfyingly amusing for him and so he kept doing it on purpose. It was visible on his face; how he didn't show sympathy at all while at the same time, teasing his elder.

"You can't expect a nice response after talking to your boss with such an attitude. You know that, right?" Marvel continued, still feigning upset.

"Whose fault do you think is that?!"

"Why don't you take a seat and calm down?" Marvel offered, softening his tone, and Mikhail frowned in the realization that what Marvel suggested might be better. "You came without notice - of course, it surprised me. But, why are you being so angry?"

Mikhail flinched, not seeing such seriousness coming from the youngster. He was almost convinced that he might just be played with this time too, but he believed that things could have been settled with a cool head.

He sighed, trying to compose himself as he nearly lost it and he shouldn't have needed to.

"I never get angry without reason," Mikhail said, defending himself.

"I know, right? I haven't done anything wrong, so there's no need for you to get angry."

"You little-" Mikhail snarled in disbelief as he realized he had been played with. He shouldn't have trusted Marvel easily. "I'll kill y-"

"Anyway, I'm busy right now," Marvel cut in, suddenly getting up from his chair. "Better off before Tanaka drives you out."

"He won't dare to!" Mikhail balked. "Where do you think you're going?! Marvel, I'm not done talking yet!"

"I am."

Grinning playfully, Marvel's figure whose voice was lastly heard in the room had disappeared by the door, leaving Mikhail alone and irritated.

"I was wondering who was bold enough to call him 'brat'. As expected of you, Sir."

Right after Marvel walked out of the room, a new voice appeared by the same door, seeming impressed at what Mikhail had done. Bringing the guest such a warm welcome - as it should be - after the host had left, a man walked in bringing light refreshments above the tray in his hands.

"Gill," Mikhail called the man, recognizing his identity just by his voice. "Finally, someone whom I can talk to."

"It's been a while, Sir," Gilbert greeted Mikhail back, fully present in the room for the guest. "I'm glad you seem healthy as the last time I saw you."

"You too, Gill."

Mikhail flumped down to the couch while Gilbert served the morning tea and biscuits on the table. Just as he said, if there was a person who got the nerves to call Marvel "brat", "punk", and the likes, it was Mikhail.

"He seemed to be in a good mood because you came," said Gilbert as he poured the tea onto a cup with ornate details engraved on it. He then added milk, knowing what Mikhail liked.

"Not buying it. He drives me crazy," Mikhail grunted in pain and Gilbert lightly laughed. "Sit down with me, Gill."

Gilbert smiled at the underboss' generosity and sat across from him on the couch. If it were Marvel, he wouldn't even bother to offer a seat to his underlings.

"Seriously, what do I even exist for? He never even once listens to my advice. Am I really his consigliere?" Mikhail began, there was a frustration in his voice.

"From what I see, you're more like a best friend to him. That's why he always acts that way toward you, Sir," Gilbert let out his judgment.

"Who on earth tries to drive their best friend out of the house after two minutes of conversation?!"

"Isn't that just the way he is?"

"Of course. And so, I don't have the right to get mad?"

"I'm afraid that's not the way he regards things, Sir."

"Obviously. Because he's an entitled, apathetic rascal who's so full of himself! How could you work for him all this whole decade, Gill?!"

Gilbert smiled as he shrugged, finding it also amusing.

"You're far way too good for Marvel," Mikhail continued, still with his notions. "For real."

"You're too kind, Sir," Gilbert humbly accepted the compliment. "So, you came because you're worried about him?"

Mikhail didn't answer. He started to grow uncomfortable as Gilbert could see right through him. He took his cup and sipped his warm tea, hoping the gentle taste of it could heal his bitter palate after the dull conversation with Marvel.

"Really, what's that brat even thinking to lay his hands on his subordinate? He never did that," Mikhail sounded his dismay and Gilbert fell silent. "When he did something that's so unlike him, unpleasant stuff would likely happen."

"Please don't say horrible things so casually like that," Gilbert frowned, grimacing rather sourly. "The company has been through a lot and he's getting easily irritated these days."

"Acting like that, is he a child? First, he made a move on his underling. Second, he killed the only suspect and witness before collecting all the evidence. He's obviously not being himself," Mikhail insisted.

"He can be so stupid sometimes," Gilbert mumbled, and before long, he gasped in the realization of what he had now blurted out. "Sir, please don't tell him about what I've just said."

"Don't worry. I'm with you. He is stupid."

Gilbert sighed with a troubled face.

"Any clues?" Mikhail asked and Gilbert shook his head.

"Just as you said, our boss banished the only suspect and witness before we could even find all the pieces of evidence. We were this close to hearing out the culprit's confession and things would have been settled now, but..."

"Reckless. This might be the worst decision the boss has ever made in Yerevan's history."

"But, Sir, what if he did that on purpose?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's not like he doesn't understand how interrogation works. I got a feeling he killed James Laurier to make sure about something, which is the problem here because we don't know what it could be."

"It could be his pride and ego."

"I'm afraid it could have been something bigger. If it's just his pride and ego, he wouldn't necessarily go that far."

"Who do you think we're talking about? He is Marvel. Is there something bigger than his pride and ego?"

For a second, it sounded like a mockery. But when Gilbert saw the words through Mikhail's eyes, he could tell the underboss wasn't joking at all.

"Actually, the boss has sent people to prepare an ambush today," Gilbert leaked the information in a low voice.

"So, we're waiting for the result now," Mikhail got the situation. "Who else other than us knows about this?"

"For now, only Tanaka and the men in operation do."

"Including my secretary, there aren't so many being aware of this I guess."

Gilbert nodded in agreement.

"If it's another traitor shit again this time, I'm done with Marvel. Letting those rats step into his territory and treat him like an idiot, I swear I'll beat his ass up until he can't walk into this house anymore."

The silence hung in the air, thick and heavy, when Gilbert didn't respond. He knew Mikhail might do what he promised and so he was worried.

He was worried there would be a bigger possibility that Marvel might get beaten for real this time.

"You can say it, Gill," Mikhail said, catching Gilbert on guard. How on earth did he know Gilbert had something he wanted to ask? Gilbert suppressed his sour smile.

"I honestly believe you care so much about him. If I may ask you, Sir, have you ever considered living here with him?" Gilbert turned his thoughts into words as he had been permitted to freely express himself.

"I have."

After a long pause, Mikhail replied and Gilbert was deeply amazed by it. He believed Mikhail would never have thought about sharing a roof with Marvel.

"But, Marvel's way to do things and mine might not work well that way, so we try to stay out of each other's life," Mikhail explained. "Even though I'm his counselor, with our natures, it's difficult for us to relate in mundane tasks, just as you saw today."

"So, it's efficient to connect from afar and meet only when it's necessary?" Gilbert wanted to confirm and Mikhail slightly nodded.

"I know just as it sounds, it's hard to understand our relationship because we look like we don't get along."

"Let's say that you both trust and support each other in your own way," Gilbert smiled at Mikhail, trying to view the positive side. "And honestly, there's nothing wrong with that."

Mikhail smiled back without a word, enjoying the last sip of his tea.

"By the way, I haven't seen Edward since you came," Gilbert wondered. "You can't be coming alone, right?"

Mikhail glanced at his watch. The time showed that it was the perfect moment to have a brunch, but he was afraid he wouldn't be able to spend his time at leisure as he knew he needed to go to take care of something.

He breathed out in annoyance.

"My secretary must be fanboying over that stupid brat right now."

comment 3 comment

Vote

SEND GIFT

Load failed, please RETRY