RURO Chapter 19

Russian Roulette /̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿

CHAPTER 19

 

Tessa Ambrose.

A discarded hound of the Intelligence Bureau.

Her loyalty had likely been not just undervalued, but ruthlessly exploited. Even high-ranking Sentinels—those who were deemed valuable—were worked until they were completely worn out. A C-rank like her? There had never been any hope for decent treatment.

Vicente had personally taken in a woman who was supposed to be executed.

At first, he thought it would be amusing.

And truthfully, it was.

Watching the government’s obedient mutt take on all sorts of dirty work without a single complaint—how could that not be entertaining?

But after Tessa learned he was her rightful Guide, things became even more interesting.

Like a rookie Sentinel who had gone over a decade without guidance, she was desperate—clinging to him, craving his touch.

Vicente liked it best when she abandoned all pride, begging to be held.

And when he did hold her?

She would cry from pleasure, then moments later, wear an expression so mortified it looked as if she wanted to die.

That face, more than anything, aroused him.

Whenever she let her emotions slip, even unconsciously, Vicente would hold her tighter—breaking her down further, forcing her to surrender completely to instinct and pleasure.

But one thing had become abundantly clear after the last incident.

Tessa was still the Bureau’s dog.

She wanted his touch, yes—but only because of her Sentinel instincts.

Her mind still belonged to the Intelligence Bureau.

It was only natural.

She had been conditioned for loyalty.

If she had betrayed them too easily, Vicente might have lost interest entirely.

No—what irritated him wasn’t that.

It was something else.

Tessa had claimed that Sentinels existed to protect people.

He had laughed at her back then.

But when he saw her at death’s door, worrying about civilians instead of herself?

That was the first time in a long while that Vicente had felt true anger.

Why?

Because she had disobeyed him?

Because she had almost thrown the game before he could even see the outcome?

He wasn’t sure.

For now, he simply waited.

Sitting casually on the worn-out sofa, legs crossed, Vicente watched over her in the darkness.

The lamp beside him remained unlit.

He simply observed.

Watched as she lay motionless, her breathing slow and shallow.

Completely unaware of the man waiting for her to wake.

Tessa barely slept before her eyes snapped open again.

Darkness had swallowed her small apartment.

She needed to get up.

The hunger had become unbearable.

It didn’t matter anymore—whether she had to beg for forgiveness or do something else, she had to eat.

She was about to step off the bed to turn on the lamp when she saw it.

A shadowy figure across the room.

A sharp intake of breath hitched in her throat.

A large man sat on her sofa, watching her in silence.

Instead of speaking, he reached out and pulled the cord on the lamp.

The sudden glow of warm light pushed away the darkness, revealing his face.

A trespasser.

No—Vicente.

Of all the people in Saint Leroi, he was the last person anyone would want to find waiting for them in the dark.

And yet, the moment she saw him, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“…Mr. Zermo.”

“Did you sleep all day?”

“There wasn’t much else I could do.”

“You could’ve cried and begged.”

“As if you’d be moved by something as pathetic as tears.”

At that, Vicente’s lips curled slightly.

Of course, tears meant nothing to him.

…Unless they were shed in bed.

“Have you done a lot of reflecting?”

She had already planned to admit fault, anyway.

“I’m sorry.”

“And yet, you still treat my orders like nothing more than scraps of paper.”

Confusion flickered in Tessa’s gaze.

Vicente didn’t keep her waiting.

“I told you to call me Vicente, Tessa.”

“But—”

“You’re not like the other dogs. Do I look like the kind of man who speaks empty words?”

Calling him by name?

Even as his subordinate, she never would have dared.

Even outside of work, no one—no one—dared to casually utter Vicente Zermo’s name.

Not even drunk fools in bars.

But before she could say anything else, he handed her a paper bag.

The rich scent of food hit her nose, and suddenly, she understood.

The hunger she thought had dulled from starvation roared back, sharper than before.

“Eat. I heard you were stubborn about skipping meals in the hospital, too.”

Tessa took the bag and peeked inside.

Packaged soup. A few soft bread rolls.

Her stomach clenched painfully at the sight.

Without a second thought, she dropped to the floor by the coffee table and began eating.

She knew she should pace herself—eating too fast could make her sick—but she couldn’t stop.

Vicente, meanwhile, watched her with unreadable eyes.

He had spared her despite her disobedience.

He had only starved her for three days.

If that’s not kindness, then what is?

At least, that’s how he saw it.

Vicente understood that he needed to show some degree of kindness.

After all, the goal of this game was to win her over.

But then, on a whim—

He reached out and plucked the bread from her hands.

Tessa froze, startled.

She looked at him, baffled.

He wasn’t trying to take it away for good.

“If you eat too fast, you might get sick. And then you’ll end up back in my arms again. You sure you can handle that?”

Amusement laced his voice, but his gaze was sharp.

Tessa shut her mouth.

Vicente tore the bread into smaller pieces and held one up.

She stared at it, confused.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? Open up.”

“…What?”

“Come on. Say ‘ah.’”

What the hell was he doing?

She was starving, not injured.

Was he seriously treating her like some kind of pet?

But this was Vicente.

This was a command.

And she was still hungry.

Swallowing her pride, Tessa slowly opened her mouth.

Piece by piece, Vicente fed her.

After a while, he even started dipping the bread into the soup first.

He’s enjoying this.

The thought made her stomach twist, but not from hunger.

What the hell am I to him?

She recalled something he had said back in the hospital.

“You don’t understand what you mean to me.”

Did this—this strange game of his—have something to do with that?

Then, out of nowhere—

“Has anyone given you a gift recently?”

The bread in her mouth nearly went down the wrong way.

Tessa swallowed hard, eyes watering slightly from the effort.

“What… do you mean?”

“Don’t bother trying to hide anything from me. Not in my city.”

Of course.

That bath salt hadn’t just disappeared.

Vicente must have taken it.

And she knew better than to expect him to return it.

Lying was pointless. But she could try to downplay it.

“It wasn’t anything important.”

“I figured. That’s why I threw it away.”

She went still.

She knew better than to complain.

But for a moment—just a fleeting second—she felt the sting of helplessness settle in her chest.

“When did you visit my apartment?”

“While you were still in the hospital. It was surprisingly clean.”

That’s not the point.

Tessa clenched her jaw and kept her gaze lowered, sipping her soup in silence.

She needed to tell Alex not to send her anything again.

“Was it from the Bureau?”

Of course Vicente wasn’t going to let it go.

“You already know I was a spy for them.”

“And I already told you to cut ties.”

“It was sent to me without warning. What was I supposed to do?”

“Tell me, Tessa.”

Vicente leaned in, resting one knee on the floor as he met her gaze.

Lying was impossible.

Not when he was staring at her like that.

“Are you still waiting to return to the Bureau?”

The weight of his words crushed down on her.

It wasn’t a question.

It was a warning.

A promise.

She felt her chest tighten.

Vicente no longer held the bread.

Instead, he took her right hand and slowly brought it to his lips.

He pressed a slow, deliberate kiss against her knuckles.

Tessa stiffened at the sensation, unfamiliar and tinged with something dangerous.

Touching him, even like this, felt good.

Because he was her Guide.

The satisfaction that bloomed across her body was undeniable.

“If you go back, you’ll end up dealing with migraines again. Relying on those trash drugs to get by.”

His lips brushed over each knuckle as he spoke.

“And I won’t be there to help you.”

But just as quickly as he had taken her hand, he let it go.

Because she was always supposed to be the desperate one.

Not him.

“So? Do you still want to go back?”

If she said yes, Vicente would kill her.

Tessa was sure of it.

But she also couldn’t bring herself to say she wanted to stay.

“You spared me knowing all this already, didn’t you?”

Vicente smiled.

As if she had answered exactly as he had expected.