Chapter Text
He hadn’t meant it. The first time. The first Metro. The man had just, well, fallen into his lap. He had been in Las Vegas for a sponsorship and Drapeau happened to be there. This was one of the few sponsorships he still shared with any of the Metros and the sponsor had kept them apart for years. They knew. They knew how stupid it would be for Ilya Rozanov to be left with any of the Metros that tore apart his precious husband. Even if Shane Hollander claimed that things were fine and to let bygones be bygones- they knew.
He settled at the rooftop bar- stone cold sober- but nursing what looked like a vodka soda to anyone who walked by. It was just tonic water and some limes. He didn’t know why, but he felt like he needed to be sharp tonight. None of his senses dulled. Nothing that could possibly be a problem for him. Here. Present. For what- he was not sure.
“I sheee eet now. You’re preeeettyyy.”
He looked over his corner- a very drunk Patrice Drapeau approached him, even slung an arm around him. The bartender shook his head as Ilya carefully removed the man’s arm from his body. He could not make a scene. He should not make a scene. He very much wanted to make a fucking scene. His arm was slung around him again and he stiffened. He would not throw hands in the middle of a swanky Las Vegas roof top- there was no way he could deny to Shane if that happened.
“I want to seeeee eeet. Seeeee yowuouuu.”
Absolutely the fuck not. Nope. No way. He slid enough cash across the bar to cover his drink and then pulled away from Drapeau. Did he really think that he’d cheat on his husband? With him? After all the shit that he put Shane through? Completely ignoring that he- Ilya- had said on more than one occasion that Shane was it for him. He had stopped being a fuckboy as soon as he locked it down with Shane. Apparently drunk Drapeau thought he was good enough to try to go after him in this moment. He’d never been so wrong.
He walked away, but not before Drapeau pushed a napkin into his hand. His phone number. What the actual fuck. Ilya thought about wadding it up and throwing it away, but no. That would be too easy. He now had a way to contact one of the men that tortured Shane and he felt the plan come to life. He’d make them pay. He would make them all pay.
*****************
He got home and he went to his closet, digging out the batch of burner phones he had bought years ago. SIM cards from different nations- the numbers he’d given out to anyone he fucked before Shane. Shane was the only one that went into his real phone. That stayed in his contacts. That was consistently his. As the years went by- he’d even used them as the phones he took to Russia. He could email Shane and that is what he’d done the last few times he’d had to go. None of that stayed on the phone. All of it was done in private browsers with limited tracing. These would do.
He picked one from the pile and added in Drapeau’s number. He texted him and waited. Made it seem like a woman he’d met in Las Vegas, handed his number, and immediately forgotten. He even had a standing photo ready to send when he asked. It was simple, really, convincing him that she was interested. That she was a woman that would be good for him. When he’d suggested that they meet at a cabin out in rural Canada as a romantic get away- Drapeau had agreed. He never blinked at the idea. Never thought twice about meeting this woman he did not know. It was pathetically easy.
As he packed his bag, Shane walked over and gave him a hug. He thought he was going to a photo shoot and he was. Eventually. A couple of days later than what he’d told Shane. Under his Adidas gear he had a carefully constructed box. Poison, shackles, various weapons that made sense to him. In the trunk of his car were cinderblocks, a shovel, other items that he thought would be useful. Drapeau wanted a chance with him. He’d regret the day he ever made a move on him, regret the day that he ever messed with Shane Hollander.
“Love you.”
“Love you too. Photoshoot will be isolated. I’ll text when I can.”
“I know. Anya and I will miss you- just come back home safe.”
“I will. See you in four days.”
A peck on the lips, Shane closed the driver’s door with a little pat and a wave as he drove away. He glanced back in the rearview mirror and wondered what it would do to Shane if he knew and then he wiped it from his mind. Shane would never know. This would be the one secret he took to his grave and it would be worth it.
***************
He pulled off the road and headed down a gravel path- a hiking trail parking lot roughly six miles from where Drapeau was expecting to meet Sydney later this afternoon. Twenty miles from the hotel he checked into for his Adidas shoot in two days. His real cell phone left in the hotel room, along with the SUV. Three weeks ago he had stashed a rental car a few blocks over and it was the work of a moment to drop off what was needed there before he went to the hotel. It was a bit of research to double check where the cameras weren’t and to make sure he walked out that exit when he left today, but it was easy enough. He knew what to look for.
He parked the car and tossed on his pack. When he’d reviewed his plan one last time he’d opted for the cinderblock in his backpack and the plan to bury Drapeau deep into the lake. The airbnb promised privacy, no cameras, and access to a small fishing boat and dock. It was perfect. The hike in was a bit inconvenient, but it was necessary. It was very, very necessary.
He spotted the car and smiled. On time. That was so, kind, of Drapeau. He settled into the woodline and waited. The burner cell phone next to him began pinging away. He sent back texts. Reasons that Sydney was running late and finally, as the sun set, he said he was five minutes away. He watched Drapeau walk out onto the porch and wait. He moved silently through the forest, lining himself up just right- before he launched himself out of the woods- cleanly knocking Drapeau unconscious. No neighbors for miles. A private lake. No one to hear him scream.
“Ro…Rozanov…what the fuck are you…why are you here?”
“You tortured what is precious to me. I am going to take away the only thing that is precious to you.”
“Do not touch her!”
“Oh- I am not monster, Patrice. Sydney is safe. What do you prefer? Poison? Strangulation? Blunt force trauma? Drowning? Possibilities are endless.”
“Fuck you!”
“Oh you tried that. Did not work. Should have known hatred was soul deep.”
“That…you…Vegas–you fucking, cocksucking–”
Ilya brought down a syringe- right into his neck- the poison flooding into his veins. He might believe that the other means were more appropriate- but he did have some compassion. These men were going to forfeit their lives- the least he could do was make the forfeiture as painless as possible.
As the sun fully went down, he moved quickly. Dispose of the body. Take Drapeau’s phone with him and thoroughly wipe any evidence of Sydney- from the phone, then from the cloud. His burner going into a bag with it after he’d thoroughly scrubbed away any possible finger prints. Drive Drapeau’s car back into Montreal, rolling it into a random body of water- only after he had forensically cleaned the vehicle. Ditched the entire kit across various different dumpsters as he walked across the city until he made it to downtown- where he hailed a cab and had it drop him off a couple of blocks from his hotel.
He kept his pace slow, took several photos with adoring fans. Good- proof that he was in Montreal- exactly where he was supposed to be. He snuck back into the hotel and let himself up to his room- no evidence in any of their cameras of when he had left. No evidence of exactly when he returned. He let himself into his hotel room and let out a sigh. For the first time in a very long time, his soul knew some semblance of peace. He walked over to his phone, automatically searching for and dialing Shane. He needed to hear his voice, needed to feel the love that Shane had for him. It was love that brought him here. Love was why he did this today. He hoped Shane would understand- if anyone ever found out- he hoped Shane would see the why.
“Shanechka. I miss you.”
“I miss you too baby, but you’ll be home soon.”