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Chapter 13 - Ivan

"Find him, now," Ivan said into his phone, his nameless henchmen agreeing to prepare a search party for June. And with that, Ivan hung up and shoved the phone back in his pocket.

Ivan was the eyes of the Underworld. He saw everything that happened, and everything that mafias thought they could hide. His prying eyes were the reason why so many were terrified of the very thought of disobeying him, let alone actually doing it. So to hear that 6 good friends of Ivan were gone was the first shock he had in a long, long time.

A phone call from the High Council alerted him to the disappearance of Kayden, Charlotte, Jimin, Asa, Theo, and Jericho. He hadn't went back inside the nightclub since it happened. He could have hid the evidence, deleted it at the last second. But he didn't. He listened to June, and that allowed the potential death of 6 of his friends.

Ivan wasn't one to smoke, but on a night as dark as that one, he made an exception and snatched a cigarette off of one of his guards. He raised the burning stick to his lips and sucked in, savoring the sickening flavor that flooded through his tongue's buds.

The alleyway between his nightclub hotel and an apartment building neighboring it was gloomy. It was as lonely as Ivan had felt all these years, and the bricks making up the apartments across from him were cracked like his spine. The weight of a thousand worlds were hopping up and down his back until he threatened to keel over and puke from the pressure of it all.

Ivan's position was rare. Only one person got to play God, after all. His eyes were planted at every corner of the city, and although he was 'neutral', it was mutually agreed throughout all of New York that he was the most dangerous man in their sector of the Underworld. Yes, even over the legends like Charlotte and Jericho, and the best fighter in the Underworld: Jimin.

Fighting was something Ivan was never particularly wonderful at. He knew basic self-defense and could use a pistol, but anything larger knocked him over. Ivan wasn't a frail man by any means. In fact, he was closer to Theo and June's size, but he didn't have still enough hands to handle giant weaponry. That showed in the way his left hand quivered as he raised the stick of death to his chapped lips.

"Fucking finally, I thought you'd never come."

Ivan dropped the drug upon hearing the male voice. The body of June swung down from the fire escape of the apartment building, his combat boots landing on the crunching gravel making up the pathways of the alley. He bumped into the dumpster next to the ladder and cursed at it, him shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

The serpent tattoo on his neck was glimmering in the pale moonlight that occasionally waved through the midnight clouds. Ivan had to admit each movement June made allured him. Even the way his long locks blew in the wind.

"You need a hair cut," Ivan said, June snorting. "Now what are you doing here? The High Council is looking for our friends-"

"Your," June interrupted, Ivan's lips twitching down.

"Fine. My friends are on the run from the High Council, and I need your help to get them out of this mess. The mess you caused because you can't just let bygones be bygones. You knew I would ask a favor of you. Why didn't you call me?"

"I don't know. Why didn't you tell your guards you knew I was out here this whole time?" June asked.

Ivan set his jaw. June could read him too well. "That doesn't change anything. I didn't tell them anything because I had a shred of hope that maybe, just maybe for once you'd do something for the greater good."

I'm an assassin, what are you expecting of me? Moral highs? Kindness?" June laughed, coming a bit closer. The new distance allowed Ivan to see the pistol holstered by June's side. "Wait, wait, let me guess. Love? Is that what you wanted?"

There were a million words he could have said in that moment, but none of them passed his lungs. June's laugh faded into the night, replaced with his mouth forming an 'o' shape Ivan wanted to punch off his face.

"Ivan?" June asked in a whisper, like the name was a memory dancing inside June's mind.

"I wanted you," Ivan replied. June's eyes bulged, but he recovered far too quickly for Ivan's liking.

"I guess we're both disappointed then."

"What did you want from me?"

"To not get betrayed," June said, tossing the question aside like it was less than nothing. "I figured that went without saying in a relationship, but to you I didn't matter very much."

"June, I wasn't going to trade two lives for one. That's illogical."

"You mean bad for business," he said, stepping closer. The newfound proximity had Ivan shriveling inside himself to escape the beast that was Byun June. "You only did it because you would've lost a lot more losing them than me. You figured if you lost me you could get another boyfriend, but if you lost them you'd never have a solid provider of gold coins. No friends, no nothing. You'd be alone with you and your precious ego."

"I didn't choose them over you because of my ego. I didn't want to watch Charlotte die and then lose Jimin to his sadness."

A droplet kissed the back of Ivan's hand. Liquid fell from the sky, and Ivan was half-surprised it was really rain and not a hailstorm of blood. It damped his hair, the locks scattering on his face and limiting his eyes. Ivan was quick to part the strands from his vision, easing when he was able to see clearly again.

"That's bullshit. You and I both know that," June finally replied, the water trickling across the sides of his cheekbones, falling off his chin.

"Do we? Do we really? Because last I checked ever since that day you've been nothing but a cold, deceiving asshole to everyone. You have no friends. No family. Nothing. You're a lone assassin. You're nothing."

"I might not have friends, but at least I know my heart will never be hurt again. You hurt me, Ivan. And you think you apologized for it, but you never did. You acted like I was overreacting. Like my own partner selling me out wasn't a huge deal."

"June, I really didn't want to hurt you, but it was either watch you kill my friends, or sell you out. I'm sorry you didn't like my choice, but there was a higher chance of you surviving than them."

"You chose your friends over me. I thought I was going to die if I didn't take them out - I told you that. I'm lucky they beat me and didn't execute me. You would've rather let me die than them. Your ego is so huge and so unchecked. It's dangerous, Ivan. The people you love will realize it and leave you, just like I did."

"I simply made the most logical choice. I thought you'd be fine-"

"Bullshit! You know how brutal they are. Once you get a kill order, you execute it no matter what. You're the most powerful fucking man in this area. If anyone knows how brutal this world is, it's you," June said, the sharpness of his words cutting through every layer of Ivan's skin.

"Maybe I made a mistake, okay? But that doesn't change that you chose to take a kill order that would execute my friends."

"I needed the money, I wasn't a big assassin back then. You were no help, and I was living off scraps. Taking out Charlotte would have fed me for months. I would get a new apartment and gain a reputation. Instead, I lost what little good reputation I had left and had to start over. All because of you."

The words halted, and June and Ivan cherished a moment of silence to enjoy the rain. Ivan adored the way the drops dribbled on his skin. He held his hand up to gather a pile of water in his hand. He was tempted to drink from it, but instead he let it trickle to the ground through the cracks of his fingers.

When Ivan was rising through the ranks, he would sit on a hill near the forest while the rain poured. It was his escape from the terrible reality that was New York City. Rain was his friend. For a while, his only friend. Droplets of moisture spoke to him more than regular people, and he wasn't sure if that was his fault or the fault of others around him.

Jimin and Ivan enjoyed rain together too. Late at night, Ivan used to sneak into Jimin's house. Back then, Jimin had next to nothing. Now, he owned a mansion larger than Jericho's ego. It was as terrifying as it was inspiring to see how far they had come.

"I didn't want to hurt you," Ivan said, allowing his hands to return to his side. He had to increase his volume so June could hear him over the rain. He prayed no one was eavesdropping, and based on the sweep his eyes did of the area, no one was present. "You were the most important thing to me."

"No, your ego was. I'm tired of these lies."

"I'm not lying to you."

June shook his head. "You know what? You're right, you're not. Your eyes are telling me all I need to know. It's you that's the problem. You're lying to yourself, Mr. Belmour, and until that changes, I don't ever want to hear from you again."

Before Ivan could get another word in, June spun on his heel and stalked off. The fire escape creaked as June latched onto it, hoisting himself up. Ivan watched the younger man move with elegance no one could match. If there was one thing Ivan could give June credit for, it was his skills. There was no other assassin on the market with the skill set June had. Between a mastery of most weapon types and his speed, strength, and stamina, June rose from the least to the most desired one on the board. Ivan had a pang of jealousy wash in his veins, but he forced it to flush out of his system.

As much as June was a massive part of Ivan's life, he leaned against the wall of the nightclub and thought about his other friends instead of his ex-lover. Jimin especially. The one who had become his best friend. All of them were willing to go against the High Council and fight together against all odds. Opposites from different corners of their own little worlds, yet they worked with one another. They had a common enemy. Ivan didn't particularly like the Council either. So that raised one gigantic question.

If his friends had the courage to disobey the Council, why didn't Ivan have it too?

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