Chapter 52

“Listen, young man. Yuri, was it?”

Yuri nodded without speaking. It might have seemed impolite, and he genuinely wanted to make a good impression on someone so important to Cherriot, but desire alone could not transform his nature. Fatigue was overwhelming him. He refused to waste what little energy remained on unnecessary pleasantries.

“I would estimate you’re… How old are you?”

“Is that essential?”

“Never mind. I’ve cared for Cherriot since the year he turned fourteen. More precisely, I’ve remained beside Madison since then.”

Yuri’s expression flickered with faint confusion at the unfamiliar name.

Dolly explained, “Cherriot’s mother. She’s eight years younger than I am, so I still have to look after her as well. But listen.” Turning her head aside, she raised her whiskey and swallowed it in a single gulp.

Yuri had not intended to drink, but watching Dolly made him abruptly conscious of his own parched throat. He had consumed nothing for half a day. Though he knew alcohol would not satisfy his thirst, he raised the glass to his lips anyway.

Dolly smiled in gruff approval. “That’s right. Drink. Sometimes people need liquor before they can vomit out what’s buried inside.”

The phrasing made Yuri hesitant. He stared at her over the rim of his untouched glass, but Dolly pressed on regardless.

“Now, where was I? Ah. Madison. Yes. I met Madison because of Chelsea. Chelsea was Cherriot’s father, and the man who saved me. Chelsea Goodnight saved my life when I was falsely accused and nearly sent to death row.”

Yuri had heard fragments of this before. Cherriot had mentioned that his father met Dolly while working as a public defender, though he hadn’t seemed to know the precise details. Yet here Dolly was, offering them to Yuri surprisingly easily.

“After that, I decided I would devote my life to helping Chelsea,” Dolly continued. “I had wandered without meaning, carrying nothing but rage and injustice in my heart. Chelsea and Madison gave my life purpose. So, young man, stop wasting time doubting me and drink your whiskey. Then tell me what you’re hiding, so I can help Cherriot.”

Dolly’s blue eyes sharpened. The gaze that had initially seemed softened by age suddenly flashed with absolute killing intent. Rather than shrinking away, Yuri met it with the same impassive stare he had used on Marty. It wasn’t an active ability, but Yuri knew how to read the eyes of liars. Perhaps because he had spent every day watching Igor fill the world with deceit, he had developed an uncanny instinct for the truth.

Dolly’s eyes lacked the unpleasant, calculated calm unique to a liar. Instead, they contained only a pure willingness to cut Yuri’s throat if he refused to speak—and a fierce, protective devotion to Cherriot.

Cherriot had told the truth. Although she shared no blood with him, Dolly loved him as her own child, unlike the biological family currently trying to end his life.

“I’ve heard that a trust exists in Cherriot’s name,” Yuri said. “One of its conditions is that he must not create a scandal that ‘causes public controversy and brings disgrace upon the family.’ Is that correct?”

“Yes.” Dolly leaned back against the sofa, draping an arm over the cushions.

“From everything we have learned… I believe someone in Cherriot’s family wants that trust. At first, they tried creating an adultery scandal that would reach the media. Cherriot sought out my friend to prevent that from happening. He didn’t know the person he was seeing had a partner; they only slept together occasionally when his rut came.”

Dolly clicked her tongue. “We raised that boy too delicately. We should have taught him to manage his ruts with medication.”

“He grew into a good man because of it, so I don’t believe it was a mistake.”

Dolly’s eyes widened slightly at Yuri’s defense. With an incredulous smile, she swirled the whiskey in her glass. “You think Madison and I raised him well?”

Yuri had never met anyone as lovable as Cherriot. He nodded without a shred of hesitation. At his response, a quiet pride settled onto Dolly’s face.

Watching her satisfaction, Yuri pressed on. “But the person he was sleeping with became the problem. The Hell’s Watchmen are an organization spread throughout North America, with a major base in Greater Vancouver. The Omega Cherriot was seeing was supposedly the lover of a middle-ranking boss overseeing that branch.”

“Goddamn it,” Dolly swore viciously. “He concealed that and dared continue seeing Cherry?” Anger rising, she refilled her empty glass and swallowed another mouthful. She gestured impatiently for Yuri to continue. “What happened to that bastard?”

Yuri hesitated. Samuel had approached Cherriot with dishonest intentions, but in the end, he had warned Cherriot of the danger and helped him escape. Perhaps guilt had caught up with him when he realized Cherriot might actually die, or perhaps he had genuinely come to care for him. Whatever the reason, his life had ended tragically. Yuri did not want to reduce his memory to something disposable.

“He died. He was young, and he was not evil to the very end. There is no need to remain angry with him. Cherriot doesn’t know, so I ask that you keep this a secret.”

“… I see.” Dolly’s anger faded, replaced by a troubled expression. “If he truly had been the branch leader’s lover, there would have been no reason to kill him. Was he a hired pawn?”

“It appears so. The original plan was likely to frighten Cherriot into going to the police, thereby creating the public scandal. When he sought my friend instead and disappeared, they seem to have pivoted to elimination. If Cherriot dies, the public will undoubtedly believe he was murdered because of an affair with the wrong person. His family’s involvement will never be suspected.”

Dolly rotated her glass thoughtfully. After a brief silence, she asked, “How did you connect the Hell’s Watchmen with Cherriot’s family?”

“A mutual acquaintance of Cherriot and my friend is an excellent journalist. Through her contacts, she traced the source of the money sent to the Hell’s Watchmen. It passed from Boston through several countries before being paid out through a shell company. We do not know the exact origin, but Boston itself is suspicious.” Remembering Marty’s face, twisted by pain as he confessed, Yuri added, “The man who followed me said the client would gain an enormous sum if Cherriot died.”

Dolly released a low, indistinct sound and slowly drank her whiskey. Yuri’s throat had grown dry from speaking. Finally, he swallowed a mouthful from his own glass. The burning sensation traveled down his throat, sharply focusing his mind.

Dolly watched him narrow his eyes against the heat of the liquor. “Did you kill them?”

Yuri’s grip tightened around the glass. He wondered what she thought as she looked at him, but her expression was unreadable. It did not seem entirely negative, however. Yuri could easily recognize contempt, disgust, killing intent, and anger, but he struggled to distinguish softer emotions. Whatever she felt, it wasn’t malice.

“I let them live.”

Visible relief spread across Dolly’s face. So that was it. She had feared he might have done something Cherriot’s gentle nature could not accept. Having known the boy for so long, she understood that vulnerability perfectly.

“Thank you, young man,” Dolly said, her tone turning deeply serious. “Because of something that happened in his childhood, Cherriot cannot bear the thought of anyone dying. If you had killed those men and he learned of it later, he would have suffered terribly.”

A heavy silence settled over the room. Dolly lowered her eyes in thought, her expression profoundly sad. Yuri waited, refusing to interrupt. With the room quiet, the distant voices of Cherriot and Benji drifted in from the lake.

Yuri could not make out their words, but the tone was clear—they were catching up. Cherriot’s low, gentle laughter traveled faintly through the night air. Hearing it calmed the frantic beating of Yuri’s heart. His cousin appeared to have successfully soothed the fear caused by Yuri’s wound.

Thank God. At least the last thing he sees before sleeping won’t be my hideous injury.

Yuri raised his whiskey again with a bitter smile. Cherriot’s bright smile was so beautiful that Yuri had silently resolved to protect it, to make him show it whenever possible. Yet since making that decision, Yuri had failed to bring Cherriot a single moment of genuine happiness. If only he had merely saddened him. Instead, he had made Cherriot sob until he could barely breathe.

Guilt swallowed him whole. The self-disgust he had carried since the pharmacy deepened, giving rise to a haunting question: Does everything I do only make Cherriot sadder?

Yuri narrowed his eyes, searching for an excuse to reject the thought, but none came. He had done nothing right today. He had carelessly allowed himself to be recognized at the pharmacy, returned far later than promised, and gotten himself injured while dealing with a mere two men—reducing Cherriot to tears.

Yuri possessed no talent for making people happy. Alexei relied on him, but Valeri alone could bring Alexei genuine joy. His own father rarely smiled at him; perhaps looking at his son simply reminded him of the foolish decisions of his past. Yuri understood this and had never resented his father’s lack of warmth. As for T-Mac and the others, they had never been important enough for Yuri to care about their happiness.

He was not an amusing or joyful person. The realization was almost laughable. He had lived this way his entire life, and now he suddenly imagined he could make someone happy? It felt pathetic to have resolved so vaguely to make Cherriot smile when he didn’t even know how. He had possessed nothing but a foolish, unearned desire.

“Why do you look like that?” Dolly’s voice snapped him back to reality.

Yuri blinked, looking toward her. Frowning, he studied her face, remembering how easily she had just made Cherriot laugh. “I was thinking about how to improve Cherriot’s mood. My injury upset him.”

Dolly raised an eyebrow, shook her head, and stood up. “Young man, that isn’t your fault. If anything, you were injured because of him. Grief is a natural reaction.”

“But I want him to smile,” Yuri whispered, the confession laced with absolute sincerity.

Dolly looked down at him, a deep, heavy pity crossing her features. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to fix that either. Half of Cherriot’s smiles are just habit. After watching his father die, he taught himself to smile so he wouldn’t worry his mother. At some point, even I stopped knowing when Cherriot was smiling sincerely.”

Yuri had hoped for a clue. Instead, he froze, his lips slightly parted. A fracture appeared in his usually expressionless mask, his dark brows drawing together in sharp pain. Cherriot had told him his parents had suffered an accident while on vacation, and that his father had passed away from it.

“You were told his parents had an accident, weren’t you?” Dolly asked, instantly reading the shock on his face. Moisture briefly gathered in her blue eyes before she blinked it away, refusing to show weakness. She set her mouth into a stubborn line, then delivered words Yuri would never forget.

“Poor boy. He couldn’t bear to believe what he witnessed, so he erased the memory entirely. Chelsea didn’t die in an accident, Yuri. He was murdered. Madison and Cherriot were both there that night. The entire family had gone to Florida for a vacation when something horrific happened.”

Dolly frowned, dragging both hands repeatedly down her face. The wrinkled backs of her hands trembled faintly. Yuri’s vision seemed to sway along with them. For a moment, he blamed the alcohol, but he knew better. The truth hidden behind the easy story Cherriot had told him was simply too monstrous. And Yuri hated himself for blindly believing Cherriot was merely someone who smiled easily.

“A robber brutally stabbed Chelsea to death right in front of Cherriot and Madison, while they desperately begged him to stop. Chelsea was stabbed dozens of times. A beautiful man reduced to a mutilated corpse. The body was so horrific that the casket had to remain closed at the funeral. Only his wife, his son, and I were left to remember what remained of him that night.”

Dolly lowered her hands. Her wet blue eyes were now burning with a fierce, terrifying determination—resembling twin blue flames. Yuri recognized the raw thirst for vengeance in them.

“I went to collect Cherriot and Madison and found Chelsea’s body at the scene. That was not the work of a random robber with no connection to him. Later, the culprit concocted a story about insanity and a sudden impulse to keep stabbing, but I never believed a word of it.”

A twisted smile crossed Dolly’s mouth as she emptied her final glass. Then, as if she had said everything she intended, she stretched. Her face smoothed out, instantly becoming calm, as if the horrific tale had never passed her lips.

“Your story gives me a fair idea of who might be targeting Cherriot. The attackers likely reached the area around Big Fox because that person provided the lead. Several family members know that Madison and Chelsea owned a cottage here.” With that, she effectively concluded the day. “We’ll handle it from here. Don’t involve yourself any further and get hurt again. You can leave now, young man.”

The revelation about Cherriot’s past had left Yuri paralyzed. Dolly’s abrupt dismissal finally jolted him back to reality. He frowned at her, struggling to process her words as a forgotten fact slowly resurfaced.

The time originally promised to him was not ten days. Yuri had only agreed to remain until the people Cherriot trusted arrived. Somewhere in his mind, he had unconsciously assumed they would spend all ten days together. He had believed he still had three days left.

But that had never been the agreement.

Like a man desperately trying to grasp sand already slipping through his fingers, Yuri realized his time had run out. A sudden chill washed over his skin. He had only just begun to truly learn who Cherriot was. If he had understood sooner, he would not have lingered so long in the bathroom when Cherriot became anxious. He would have kept every single promise. He would have returned on time, no matter what.

The rational, cold portion of his mind reminded him that this was not a permanent farewell. As Cherriot had said that morning, they could see each other again once they returned to Vancouver. Yuri knew he should stop behaving dramatically and simply accept Dolly’s decision. The old Yuri—the one who hadn’t known the heartbreaking beauty of Cherriot’s smile—would have taken the money and walked away, concluding there was no longer a logical reason to remain in danger. His natural sense of responsibility would have nagged at him for leaving a job unfinished, but he wouldn’t have felt as though his feet were rooted to the floorboards.

But Cherriot had left deep, indelible footprints across Yuri’s isolated world. He was no longer an uninvited guest merely passing through. He was someone Yuri cared for. Someone to whom Yuri had already given far too much of his heart.

Yuri needed to see Cherriot safe with his own eyes. The payment didn’t matter anymore. From the moment they had fled the hotel, Yuri had acted not for a paycheck, but for the singular purpose of keeping Cherriot alive.

“I’ll go with you. I won’t accept any further payment. Please.”

It had been so long since Yuri had sincerely pleaded with anyone that the word felt clumsy and foreign on his tongue. But that unfamiliar embarrassment didn’t matter. If discarding his pride allowed him to remain beside Cherriot a fraction longer, the bargain overwhelmingly favored him.

“No,” Dolly refused without a second thought. “This is our family business to resolve. I don’t want to drag any more outsiders into it.”

The word outsider drew a sharp, unyielding boundary line. Yuri lost the ability to respond. There was nothing in Dolly’s words he could dispute. His promise to Heather that he would protect Cherriot until the very end had ultimately been a unilateral decision.

Cherriot’s family had absolutely no reason to involve a complete stranger in their private, dangerous affairs. From Dolly’s or Benji’s perspective, Yuri was nothing more than an untrustworthy liability. A strange man with a criminal record who had materialized out of nowhere, declaring he would protect their boy. It would have been stranger if Dolly had welcomed him with open arms.

Cherriot had simply been exceptionally, naively trusting. Ordinary people behaved exactly as Dolly did. Yuri was the true uninvited guest now.

Only now did he understand how jarring it must look: a man who knew nothing of Cherriot’s true circumstances, who couldn’t even conceal his own violent wounds properly, stubbornly insisting on playing the protector. Yuri had no right, no leverage, and no justification. The contract was over. He could no longer claim the title of Cherriot’s bodyguard.

And without that shield, Yuri couldn’t even confidently call himself Cherriot’s friend. He was merely a man Cherriot had met a week ago.

Whatever overwhelming, unspoken emotions had passed between them in the dark, their relationship had never been defined as anything special.

Yuri was nothing to Cherriot.

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