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“Happy Birthday, my Ajax,” Mama said, smiling down at him. “Five years old already, I’m so proud of you.”
He didn’t pay much attention, more focused on the toy shark in his hands, moving it up and down like it was swimming in the air.
The door slammed. “Hide the boy!” His Papa shouted, and his mother ran towards him, picking him up from his chair, shark toy falling to the floor.
“We’re playing hide and seek, Ajax. Now, I want you to crawl under the bed and don’t come out until we find you.” His Mama said. Her voice was different. Funny. They had done this before though, so he knew it’d be alright.
He hid under the bed and watched as she closed the door. Ajax was good at hide and seek, he was the best in his whole preschool class. So he waited.
And waited.
The front door slammed again, and voices began to fill the living room.
We told you what happens when you don’t pay up.
Do you think you’re better than the Fatui?
They were so noisy. Didn’t they know how to play hide and seek? You’re supposed to be quiet.
A loud bang echoed through the house. It was louder than anything Ajax had ever heard, he thought. But he hid like Mama told him, even when he heard her scream.
First just a loud cry, and then his Papa’s name. She was crying, Ajax thought, and he wanted to go look for her but he didn’t want to break the rules of hide and seek.
The other people shouted again, and his Mama said something, but he couldn’t hear her. She cried again, and screamed, almost as loud as the bang.
But the other people laughed, and suddenly her scream stopped, and he heard a loud thunk, like something heavy hitting the ground.
More laughter, from the other people. Oh, maybe they played a prank on Mama! But it was over now, so she stopped crying. Ajax liked to play pranks on Mama too, but only silly ones.
The door slammed again, and the other people left. Everything was super quiet again. He couldn’t wait for his parents to come and find him, they would be so happy that he did as he was told and hid like a good boy.
And so he waited.
And he waited.
And…he waited. Ajax waited until his stomach growled, until he was thirsty, until he had to go potty.
He crawled out from under the bed, and it was dark outside. It looked like he might have been hiding for a long time. He stretched his arms out as far as they could go—they were all cramped up.
He hoped they wouldn’t be too mad that he stopped hiding. Ajax opened the door to the living room.
His parents were there! Oh, but they were asleep on the floor.
Ajax’s socks got wet, all this red, sticky stuff covered the ground and soaked into the carpet. His Papa didn’t move, and he had a funny-looking hole in his forehead. He poked his cheeks and his chest, but he slept really hard.
And Mama slept too. She had way more of the red stuff on her. It covered her whole front, staining the apron she had been wearing. Ajax crawled closer to her. The red stuff smelled kind of weird, and he didn’t like the way it got on his hands, on his clothes too.
How weird, Mama was so cold. Ajax always liked that she was warm.
Her neck had a weird line running across it, and the red sticky stuff almost seemed to come from there. It almost looked like the time Ajax fell out of the tree outside and cut up his knee.
He remembered—it was blood. This is blood, too—Papa’s, from the back of his head. But mostly Mama’s coming from her neck.
But, when his knee got scraped up, Mama put a bandage on it, and he got better. Ajax didn’t know where the bandages were, but that didn’t bother him too much.
They would get better too, right? Mama would get better.
…
The police found 5-year-old Ajax Rybakov on the floor in between his murdered parents, playing with his bloody shark toy.
There were lots of questions. Lots of men in uniforms and lots of doctors who looked him over for cuts. Lots of people looked at him funny, like he was doing something wrong.
Silly, he told them. I don’t have any cuts. You need to give Mama a bandage.
…
I fear the boy is not well, The doctor said. The mean one, who told him what it means to be dead.
Who told him that Mama and Papa were dead.
Who got upset with him when he colored entire pages of paper red, who got upset with him when he asked too many questions about dying, who got upset with him when he shoved the stupid big kid who made fun of him at the orphanage.
So what if he hit his head? He was dumb and annoying.
Ajax didn’t like dumb and annoying people.
…
He is eight years old, a different doctor said. This one made him color too, but she didn’t like his drawings either. He continues to diminish socially. He is far too angry for someone his age. The other children are afraid of him.
“The orphanage is far too overwhelmed to handle such a child.” A woman’s voice. But not a doctor this time. Soft, like Mama’s was.
“Vinea.” The doctor said, sighing. “I-I am in no position to doubt you. But are you certain you can care for him?”
And the lady smiled, ice-gray eyes falling on Ajax as she led him out of the orphanage.
“From now on, I’ll take care of you, Ajax,” Vinea said. She was tall. Long, light-colored hair stretched down her back. It wasn’t the same color as Mama’s but it was still pretty.
“Okay,” said Ajax. And then, after a minute. “I don’t want to go to the doctor anymore.”
Vinea laughed. “They were not helping you, dear Ajax. They were simply holding you back.”
…
When she adopted him, Vinea was younger than his Mama. But she had commanded respect anyway—crowds parted for her, parted for them as they walked through the city.
It made Ajax feel special. Vinea always had a driver, and he would pick them up in a fancy black car and take them places. He was fourteen now and he sat in the fancy black car with her in front of a school.
“Are you sure I can’t keep being homeschooled?” Ajax pouted.
Vinea nodded. “Your tutors have given you an incredible education already, my dear. Lots of literature, science—you’re nearly fluent in three languages now. This is not for your education, Ajax. You will run circles around your classmates academically, even at a private institution. This is a social experiment.”
“An…experiment,” Ajax repeated.
“I have taught you all I can about people. How to pretend to like them, even though you don’t. When to smile, when to look sad. When to laugh. Acceptable outlets for your…urges.”
Urges, she called them. Those doctors had called it other things. Exceptional capacity for violence. Fascination with death. Obsession with blood. No remorse.
Vinea’s voice took him back to the present. “But, high school is a special kind of hell. I need you to be able to blend in. No, I need you to excel socially. Become well-liked, even.”
Ajax laughed. “Vinea, be serious. I give people the creeps.”
Vinea shook her head. “Not me.”
“But you’re—“ like me.
Ajax wasn’t an idiot. Vinea worked long hours, often overnight. Bars, restaurants, clubs—warehouses, shipyards. It’s like she owned the entire city. He’d heard the whispers. Seen the terrified glances.
Fatui. Mafia, Pakhan. No, her father had been Pakhan—they called her the Tsaritsa.
Vinea inherited the family business from her father, and under her rule they became unstoppable. The police, the government—there wasn’t an inch of the city that didn’t fear them. And she’d brought them international, spilling the Fatui into Fontaine, into Natlan, taking control of drug markets and gun trades.
He’d seen the blood that stained the corner of a Louboutin heel.
Vinea was a better actress than Ajax. But she was just as hollow inside as he was.
“Yes. And so I know how hard it is. And when you’re a little older, I promise, you will excel in my Fatui. For now, learn to play pretend. It will be useful later in your life. If you play along, I’ll even give you your knives back.”
…
Under Vinea’s tutelage, Ajax became a great actor. He knew what to say, and when. Teachers adored him. His classmates too.
He dated girls, and when he thought about how pretty they’d be on the floor, bleeding out—well, he knew better than to act on it. When he had those urges, he’d go straight to the gym and exercise until his body was exhausted, until he could barely think at all.
Vinea kept him in tip-top shape—weights for strength but also dance and gymnastics so he was flexible and quick. He liked dancing, with every balanced movement he imagined the perfect arc of blood a blade would make.
Ajax was the picture of a perfect, handsome young man—at seventeen, he noticed the eyes of women and men on his body, on his freckled face. He didn’t know which excited him more—the attention was addictive. Maybe the men, especially if they were older. Stronger.
He could take them down, he thought.
He could kill them easy, and they wouldn’t even expect it, not from a pretty little thing like him.
It excited him more than sex, and he’d already learned that was great. Well mostly. Pretending to care about them was kind of a drag, but at least he could get off.
“Ajax,” Vinea said, voice bringing him out of his head. “You’ve done well. The graduation ceremony was cute. And, unlike your peers, if you wish it, you have a job already lined up.”
He stood up from his seat. “You mean it?”
Finally, finally.
“It will be hard work, you know. I will not play favorites.”
Ajax nodded. “I don’t want you to. I can do it all by myself.”
Vinea stood as well. He was taller than her now, even in her heels. “It’s almost your birthday,” she said. “I have a gift for you. Come.”
…
The gift was a man. Tied up to a post in one of her warehouses, duct tape covering his mouth.
His eyes widened with fear when he saw them. Well, saw her.
“He has stolen from us, my dear,” Vinea said, tutting. “You know what I must do, yes?”
Ajax nodded. “No use keeping a thief around, right?”
Vinea smiled. “Exactly. And since he is a dead man either way, it doesn’t matter much who does the killing.”
He gazed at her gray eyes, searching for meaning. It clicked as soon as she held out his favorite knife, the one with the pretty carved handle that she’d given him to “practice.”
“You mean it?” Ajax said, something resembling an honest-to-god emotion in his voice.
She nodded. “You’ve been so good all these years, staying out of trouble until you were old enough to join my ranks. It’s time I rewarded your loyalty.”
Ajax’s hand fit so perfectly on that carved handle. So perfectly balanced, so light, so sharp. A little giggle made its way up his throat before he descended on the man. He was crying.
Oh, how cute.
Brown, pleading eyes seemed to beg for mercy, but Ajax had waited for this for so long. Had wanted this before he wanted anything else at all.
“How should I do it?” He asked, eyes roving over his shaking body like a predator.
“However you like,” Vinea said. “I’ve always preferred guns, but you are so fond of your knives—a knife can kill quick, or slow. Quick is merciful, simple. Slow, agonizing. It’s up to you—you are judge, jury, and executioner here.”
Ajax didn’t think his heart had ever beat so fast. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, there was a tingle in all his limbs—his whole body was alight with anticipation.
Ajax had imagined it so many times. Over and over again, he had imagined it. It was almost anticlimactic when the side of his sharp blade tore into the man’s throat, sliding across it in one quick pull.
Almost. The splatter of his blood was exhilarating. It streamed out of him, covering Ajax, and the floor and probably the wall behind him in blood, hot and thick and sweet. The scent alone was intoxicating.
When his body slumped, dead, lifeless against the post, Ajax couldn’t help the smile that crawled onto his face. Then the laugh, bubbling up in his throat, high and bright.
“You’re a natural, my Ajax. Welcome to my family.”
…
Ajax, as it turned out, was exceptionally good at killing people. He supposed it made sense. Something was missing from his fucked-up little head, and where most people would find horror, he found glee. At first, he assisted others, watching how they practiced the fine art of murder. Guns were fun but loud and more unwieldy than his precious knives. But knives were messier, so Ajax became an expert with both.
Vinea hardly ever smiled, but she did when he came back from his missions. She’d pet his ginger hair and tell him he did well. He lived for her praise, and would do anything for it, maybe.
He’d killed for it many times.
And murder, it turns out, paid quite well. Ajax moved out of Vinea’s mansion at twenty into his own apartment in the city and spent his days training until his next mission was assigned and he could begin planning. It was rotten work sometimes, he’d admit. He bought a fishing boat, a little, unassuming thing — actually, he rather enjoyed fishing, though most of the time Ajax used it to dump bodies into the sea.
After he was done, he’d always find himself at a bar or a club—keyed up, killing always left him so keyed up, and he needed hands on his body. No one could touch him without his permission, he’d kill them if they tried, but in these moments, he was…needy. Hungry. Men were easy to lure, and Ajax liked their eyes on him, so he dressed like a harlot on a good day. But, when he worked, it was head to toe in black—laundering blood stains was a pain.
Nearly every time he killed, he’d go and get fucked, demanding it as rough as they could.
They were never rough enough.
But it was okay, the combination of a cock in him and the flashes of blood and death, memories of his target’s final breaths, it was almost enough to satisfy.
Ajax’s reputation in the Fatui was…contentious at best. The Tsaritsa’s dog— fucking freak —they called him, but he didn’t care. This was what he was born to do.
After he faked the suicide of a politician, Vinea smiled for nearly a week. After that, she counted Ajax among her most treasured enforcers.
Tartaglia was his new alias, the stuttering, bumbling fool. Better to be underestimated, he’d always thought.
When Vinea deemed someone dead, Ajax would stop at nothing to end their miserable existence.
…
Perhaps they were both heartless, but they were the closest thing each other had to family. It was New Year’s Eve, and the party at Vinea’s mansion was in full swing. On this, the most important celebration of the year, Ajax, twenty-two now, sat at Vinea’s side, drinking fire water and laughing with the others—Pulcinella, a politician she’d been bribing since Ajax was a child. La Signora, the honeypot. Even Pantalone, the bookie, seemed to be in good spirits.
It was clear to Ajax that the memory of this night would be fondly remembered by all.
He stumbled into the east wing of the house, where his old room used to be. He had a key—only Ajax had a key to this wing, besides her. Vinea wouldn’t mind if he crashed there, she let him stay every so often. But, Ajax was drunk, drunker than he usually would dare to be, lest someone try to sneak up on him.
It turns out that when you kill people, sometimes they try to kill you back. Or their families do, anyway. Hypervigilance was a necessity. But not there, not that night. Ajax's steps were shaky and loose as he reached for his door, and he barreled inside with too much strength, almost breaking the door clean off.
He swore, nearly falling as he made his way inside.
Oh.
This wasn’t his old room.
This was Vinea’s office. He’d been inside it before, so he’d seen the papers, folders, hundreds of files and photos and blackmail and evidence.
He giggled, walking closer to her desk. Vinea worked so hard, Ajax thought. It must be stressful to bear so much responsibility. She barely even killed people herself anymore.
Ajax used to love spending time with Vinea in her office. When he was little, she would not share any gruesome details, just mention little things— I’ve bought a new restaurant, Ajax. The old owners practically gave it to me for free. When he was older, words of advice— Ajax, there’s a serial killer loose in Fontaine. When you kill Vignere, make it look like their work. It will throw the whole Sinthe business for a loop and I can swoop in rather easily then.
There was a folder on her desk—a report on a Y. Belikov, who Ajax vaguely recalled was one of her drug runners.
He paused. Did Vinea keep folders on all her people? He supposed it would make sense. How many of them had tried to stab her in the back? How many men in their own ranks had Ajax put down for her? He had no reason to wonder, but he was less than sober, and curiosity had him opening the drawers, scrolling down the letters until he reached “R.”
A. Rybakov
He had a folder, too. His hands were clumsier than usual, but he pulled it out and placed it on the desk. There wasn’t much there. Ajax had seen other documents she kept from his childhood—awards, honors, and important documentation—stored elsewhere. This was his Fatui record, Ajax thought, and the information would likely be relevant only to his…work.
There were lists. Countless names of people he’d killed for her. It read like a resume, detailing how he rose so very quickly through her ranks. How he was such a valuable member of her family. It made Ajax a little proud, honestly, until he reached the final pages of the folder.
A police report.
The deceased, L. Rybakov and P. Rybakova, had suspected ties to the Fatui crime organization. L. Rybakov allegedly smuggled firearms and drugs out of Snezhnaya by way of unassuming fishing boats. Rumors in the underground say that he pocketed some of the profits in order to escape with his family.
L. Rybakov was shot execution style, point blank in the forehead with a gun consistent with the make and model present in other Fatui suspected hits. P. Rybakova was likely caught in the crossfire. Unlike her husband, her throat was slit, carotid artery severed.
There is no doubt that the Fatui were responsible, however, there is not enough evidence to make a conviction at this time. The witness, 5-year-old A. Rybakov, is both too young to give an accurate statement of what he heard and according to psychiatrists, far too traumatized.
It has been three years since this case was opened, and we are forced to close it due to lack of evidence. Ms V. Snezhevna, long suspected to be the leader of the Fatui crime organization, has taken the boy in, which in this detective's opinion, is far too much of a coincidence. Perhaps she did not intend for a child to suffer the sins of his parents, but that goes against everything we know of her.
“What are you doing?” Vinea’s voice startled him.
Ajax met her icy eyes. “My parents were killed by the Fatui?”
Vinea laughed. When he did not, she walked closer to him, a gentle expression on her face. “I thought you knew. Your father betrayed our family.”
Ajax did not speak. There were far too many thoughts in his head.
“Ajax, what happens to people who betray our family?” She asked.
“They are discarded.” He said, the response automatic.
Vinea nodded. “They are discarded, correct. Such a preventable tragedy, if they had only remained loyal. Instead, they disobeyed and orphaned you in the process. I could not stand for that—such a failure as parents, really. I knew I could raise you better. Perhaps it was unfortunate, but seeing all that at such a young age—well, I knew the moment I saw you that you were just like me.”
Just like me just like me
And Ajax knew she was right. He did not possess the capacity for remorse. He craved violence to the point of obsession. Ajax thought he had always been like this, and Vinea simply helped him find a place to fit into the world. But, knowing she gave the order that killed his parents? That she was responsible for it all and then chose to take him in, create her perfect little murderer?
Something inside of him broke.
“I don’t think I’m anything like you,” Ajax whispered. Icy eyes widened, but softened so very quickly—an actress, she was such a good actress.
“You’re drunk, darling. Let’s get you to bed.”
…
Ajax woke with a massive headache. He never drank, why the fuck had he drunk so much? He was in his childhood bedroom, all tucked in. God, did Vinea put him to bed? Embarrassing.
He dressed quickly and gathered his things. It was late—usually, he rose with the sun to exercise, but that shocking realization had left him reeling, and Ajax found himself at a bit of a loss. It did not change anything. The Fatui was the only place he’d ever belong. It was the only place he could be himself.
How many traitors had Ajax dealt with for Vinea? How many had left behind orphans, just like him? He did not mourn his parents, not even once. He did not know how. He did not mourn his victims, or the children left behind. Second-guessing is how you get sloppy, Ajax, Vinea always said. Getting sloppy is how you die.
He left his old bedroom, walking past Vinea’s office.
“Ajax?” She called out. He stopped. “Can you come in here?”
“Yes,” he said, pushing open the door.
Vinea smiled. “I have a new mission for you.”
Those words were his favorite words in the entire world. He sat down in front of her desk quickly.
“Let’s forget all that unpleasantness from yesterday. I have a target here that requires an expert. I don’t trust anyone to do it but you.” Vinea said.
She placed a folder in front of him. In it, several pages of documents, correspondence, espionage reports. And a picture—one, single picture, a bit blurry, but not blurry enough that he could not see his face.
Handsome. Strong. More elegant looking than the men he’d normally pick up in bars, but he positively radiated power and dominance. He wore a three-piece suit entirely black in color, so dark that his golden eyes seemed to pierce through the photo in comparison.
Ajax knew exactly who he was. Know thy enemy, the first rule she’d ever taught him.
“Rex Lapis,” Ajax said.
Vinea nodded. “Every day, that bastard encroaches further into our territory. We dominated the Sinthe market in Fontaine, and Foçalors is all but powerless now. But his dogs are sniffing around every corner of the court, and now he’s discussing an alliance with Barbatos of all people. I want him put down.”
And when Vinea deemed someone dead, Ajax would stop at nothing to end their miserable existence. That’s the way it has always been.
“This is a very high-profile target,” Ajax noted. “I’ll need some time to prepare.”
Vinea nodded. “Yes. Be cautious, Tartaglia. Rex Lapis is a conniving, manipulative snake of a man.”
“I will.” He got up to leave, and a frigid hand gripped his wrist.
“Do not fail me, Ajax,” Vinea said, eyes pleading. “I do not wish to lose you.”
It was so convincing that for a moment he had forgotten she was incapable of love.
…
Liyue was hot. It made him more agitated, that was for sure. And since he was canvassing, Ajax couldn’t afford to do anything stupid—no starting fights for fun, no picking up anyone in bars. He had to be a shadow, unseen, unheard, unknown. Months, he spent months watching, preparing, waiting for the right moment.
Rex Lapis was rarely alone. He was a hard man to track down, but once he did, Ajax managed to learn some of his routines. He’d inspect shipping docks before sunrise, and he met with some of Liyue’s business leaders in the afternoons. Evenings were harder to nail down—he enjoyed entertainment, that much was for sure. The opera, plays, fine dining, parties. A different event every night.
Sometimes it was a front. Ajax watched as a party turned bloody, as nearly every servant and half the guests in attendance took out the entirety of some prominent rival clan. Rex Lapis watched, expression completely serene even as blood splattered across his face or got on his designer shoes.
Ajax tried to count the millions of dollars it must have cost to lead such a lavish lifestyle. He put Vinea’s mansion to shame, her Louboutin heels, her fur coats. He truly seemed to have it all.
But, that’s what the name Rex Lapis meant in Liyue. King. Emperor. Technically, Ningguang was the leader of Liyue, but she dined with him so often that it became clear that even their most powerful official was on the take. The whole world bowed at his feet.
No wonder Vinea wanted him dead. And she wasn’t the only one, by far. Others were sent to kill the man, and Ajax observed their attempts to get close, to snipe from afar, to infiltrate.
None of them even made it close. His men disposed of every single one, and Rex Lapis did not even lift a finger.
However, none of those men were Ajax. Tartaglia. He planned meticulously. Down at the docks, that seemed to be the best place to catch him. His men would be spread out further, and Ajax could take them out, one by one, until only Rex Lapis remained.
And so, on an uneventful Tuesday before dawn, Tartaglia set out to kill his target. The first man’s neck snapped easily under his fingers, and he was thrown into the shipping container Ajax hid behind. The second struggled a bit, but the life was choked right out of him in the end. He was pushed right into the ocean, sinking like a brick. The third didn’t expect him at all. Fourth went down easy.
And then, all that was left was Rex Lapis.
The man walked slowly, evenly through the shipyard. Ajax stalked behind him like a predator stalked his prey. If he used a knife, it would be quiet. A gun, quick. He would have preferred the knife, but it was only a matter of time before the man grew suspicious.
Ajax drew the gun from his holster and pointed it towards the man, who was…
He was no longer there. He was there just a moment before, what—
“All of those men you killed were suspected of selling secrets to my enemies. So, I ought to thank you for sparing me the effort of killing them myself, Tartaglia .”
Ajax turned, coming face to face with Rex Lapis himself, pistol pointed directly at Ajax. Rex Lapis, who knew his Alias.
Vinea’s words echoed in his head. Be cautious, Tartaglia. Rex Lapis is a conniving, manipulative snake of a man.
He pointed his own gun at Rex Lapis, but the man didn’t seem to care.
“You did far better than the others. I look forward to speaking more on your methodology.” His voice was deeper than Ajax had expected. He was also surprised that the man spoke to him at all, rather than pulling the trigger and ending it.
They were close, so close that he could smell his fancy cologne. And quick, so quickly that Ajax couldn’t do anything at all, Rex Lapis’ pistol was coming down against his temple, impact so hard that everything faded to black.
…
Ajax blinked his eyes open, groaning. Fuck, his head was pounding. Did he drink again? No, because he was in Liyue on a mission to kill—
“Oh, finally, you’re awake.” Rex Lapis stood over him.
Fuck.
His eyes darted around the room. A hotel room, maybe? No windows, though. He tried to stand, move, or do anything, but Ajax realized he was tied down to the chair he sat in. His arms, chest, thighs, calves, and ankles were all affixed to the wood with red ropes.
Ajax had seen ropes like these before, but never on a prisoner. Shibari, one of his more regular lays called it, when he tied Ajax up.
“What, you too good for zip-ties?” Ajax said, with a scoff.
Rex Lapis chuckled. “No, but I thought you’d look gorgeous in red. It seems, as usual, I was right.”
Ajax was in danger, this man was very, very, dangerous. So, why was his body reacting so strongly to his words?
“Funny,” Ajax said. “You gonna kill me?”
He watched as golden eyes trailed over his body. Something a little like pride warmed him up—wanted, even dangerous, wicked men wanted a piece of him.
“I was,” the man said.
Ajax laughed. “But, let me guess, I’m just so irresistible, right? It'd be a damn shame to kill me.”
Rex Lapis smiled. It did not make him look kinder. “Do you think you can fuck your way out of this, sweet thing?”
Was he mocking him?
He stepped closer. “If you want to suck my cock, by all means, go ahead. I won’t stop you. But it won’t influence my decision at all.”
Ajax glared at him. Rex Lapis paid it no mind. He pulled a chair closer to Ajax and sat across from him. “No, I received a rather interesting letter, and that is why I hesitate. It’s from a mutual friend of ours.”
He watched as the man pulled the letter from his suit pocket. It was—
It was from Vinea. Ajax had seen that white, embossed paper before. Her personal stationery.
“Here you go,” he said. He held the letter up for Ajax since his hands were tied. And, it was undoubtedly her handwriting—looping, leaning ever so slightly to the right. He’d seen it countless times before, on notes she left in his lunchbox, on mission reports.
Rex Lapis,
I’ve sent you a gift. I’ve thought long and hard about what to get you, as you’re a magnificent bastard who enjoys only things of the highest quality. And then, a spark of an idea.
I’ve sent you my assassin, Tartaglia. He is young, but don’t let that fool you—he is excellent at his job. I’ve trained him myself, of course. Every high-profile assassination you suspect me of ordering in the last three years, I can assure you my Tartaglia was behind them.
However, I no longer have any use for him. I do not wish to own a misbehaving pet. The moment he began to doubt me, I began planning. Perhaps an accident, or just a bullet between the eyes.
And then, I thought—why not send him on an impossible mission? So yes, I’ve sent you a fun, interactive gift. And your gift has been ordered to kill you.
I trust you can handle one little killer, Rex Lapis. It might even be fun. Once you catch him, do as you please. Fight him, fuck him, throw him to the rabid pack of dogs who work for you. I don’t care. Dispose of him for me, won’t you?
Never yours,
Tsaritsa Vinea
Ajax read the letter. He read it again, and then a third time.
“It’s curious, right?” Rex Lapis said. “Very curious.”
He stood, holding the letter as golden eyes swept across the page. Ajax’s head was spinning. She, she sent him here to fail? Tipped Rex Lapis off, so he knew he was coming?
She signed his death certificate.
Rex Lapis sighed, almost bored at his lack of outburst. “Vinea is arrogant. She thinks me too prideful and assumes that any threat against me will be immediately neutralized. But, she’s left her own motives open to questioning. And so, I began to think that this had far more to do with you than me, Tartaglia. I am, for a change, not the target. Rather, the solution.”
Ajax watched as he walked a slow circle around his chair, like a predator. “She also thinks that I am a brute, and my men are brutes. But even I know that knowledge is power, Ajax.”
Oh shit.
For maybe the first time in his life, Ajax felt something like fear.
Rex Lapis smiled when his eyes widened. “It was not even particularly hard to figure out. Vinea had your parents killed, and so suddenly she adopts you? A child who has only known death, a child who would be easy to manipulate, to fan the flames of his violent tendencies. It’s like cultivating a glaze lily—she raised a little killer, and trained it to bark at her command.”
And Ajax wanted to argue, to defend her, but Rex Lapis was right. He watched as the chair was brought close to him again, golden eyes level with Ajax’s as the man sat across from him.
“So, what did you do, little Ajax? Why does she want you dead?”
And Ajax was lost. Vinea was all he’d ever known, and one, tiny mistake, one sliver of information was enough for her to abandon him.
“I—” He hesitated. “She didn’t want me to know my parents were killed by the Fatui. I found out. The next day, I was told to kill you.”
Rex Lapis shook his head. “That woman. So arrogant. She wanted you to live and breathe only for her. The moment you formed an opinion of your own, no matter what it was, you were a failed creation.”
Ajax laughed. It was bitter. “And if I’d succeeded in killing you?”
“How very cute that you think you might have had a shot.” Rex Lapis nearly cooed. “But, let’s say, in some alternate universe, you managed to pull it off. Well, that’s only a bonus to her. After you returned victorious, she’d find another way.”
And Ajax knew that he was right.
“So, now what?” Ajax asked. “I’ve been thrown to the wolves—has the biggest and baddest of them all decided if he’ll eat me or not?”
“You stroke my ego with your kind words, Ajax.” Rex Lapis said, leaning back in his chair. “It is charming, this little spark of life you’ve still got. A lesser man would have resigned himself to his fate.”
“I always figured I’d go out fighting.”
Rex Lapis paused. “Do you know what I think? I think, that after living for someone else, it must be completely foreign to make your own decision. Indulge my curiosity, won’t you? I’ll give you the choice: Shall I kill you? Or shall I keep you all to myself?”
Ajax’s brow furrowed. “That’s not a particularly fair choice.”
“Oh, but isn’t it? Two valid options. Bow out, or bow down.” He smiled. “I should mention that if you choose me, I will own you. You will live for me, and you will kill for me. I require obedience as well, but at least I am honest about it.”
“And if I accept? What’s to stop me from running?” Ajax asked.
“Well, firstly, you’ll want for nothing. You’ll be paid handsomely for your services, same as in any organization. You’ll have the freedom to come and go as you please in my cities. Anyone who disrespects you disrespects me. I think you’ll find that those closest to me end up rather…spoiled. You may very well be happy here.”
There was a promise hidden in there somewhere.
“And secondly?”
Rex Lapis hummed. “If you swear loyalty and you run, I promise I will hunt you to the ends of the earth and kill you myself.”
Ah. Perhaps Ajax should have been more upset by that. Rex Lapis also seemed to look for a reaction, finding none, and he chuckled. “You see, Ajax? I will never lie to you. I don’t pretend to be anything but what I am.”
Their eyes locked for a solid minute before Ajax broke the silence. “I have conditions.”
He laughed. Rex Lapis laughed, and it seemed to surprise even himself. “I offer an inch and you take a mile. Oh, I like you. Fine, let’s hear them.”
Ajax’s cheeks felt a bit warm. Was he flushing? Why was he flushing?
“I want to know your name,” Ajax stated. “It’s only fair. You know mine. If I kill for you, I want to know your name.”
Rex Lapis smiled. “Interesting. A name for a name. Some mutually assured destruction. And your second demand?”
Now that the reality of his situation set in, it was a cold, cold fury that settled into his body. How dare she discard him like that. How dare she pretend to care, even for a second. If Rex Lapis wanted to use him, at least he was honest about it. Vinea raised him, made him feel special, bonded with him—he was her prodigy, she was his mentor—his mother— when in reality, she took his mother away from him in the first place.
“I want you to kick the Fatui out of Fontaine and dominate the Sinthe market. I want you to creep your way into Snezhnaya and destroy everything Vinea holds dear. I want you to promise me that you’ll ruin her, and when the time finally comes, I want to be the one who cuts her throat open. Can you promise me that, Rex Lapis? Because, if you can, I’ll do anything for you.” Ajax said.
And he heard it, the way his voice grew flat and emotionless. Felt the smile creep up onto his face, inappropriate. If Rex Lapis wanted the truth, he’d get it—Ajax did not kill for money, after all.
He watched as Rex Lapis reached into his pocket, and pulled out Ajax’s favorite knife. He almost thought he’d kill him right then and there, but instead, the knife went through the red ropes tying him to the chair. His chest, his arms. He watched as Rex Lapis sunk to his knees, cutting the ropes around his thighs, calves, and ankles.
“My name is Zhongli,” he said, gloved hands splayed out on Ajax’s thighs. “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun together, Ajax.”
Zhongli. He let the name roll around in his mind as Zhongli stood up and offered Ajax one of his hands. He stood, legs a bit stiff from sitting, bound to the chair for what he could only guess was several hours.
Zhongli did not let go of his hand. Ajax watched as his other gloved hand moved to rest at the smallest part of his waist, squeezing there so hard he thought it might bruise.
“It may be wise for us to have a platonic business relationship.” He said, hands not budging.
Probably. But, Ajax had been half-hard since the moment golden eyes raked down his body.
“Zhongli,” Ajax said. His name sounded good coming from his lips. “Shut up and fuck me.”
Zhongli growled, and all at once he was pulled close, all expensive cologne and gunpowder, as he finally kissed him, wicked tongue invading Ajax’s mouth. He couldn't help it, he whined into such a claiming kiss, fingers digging into the fine material of his suit.
When they parted, golden eyes were dark and wild. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
Ajax grinned. “Don’t you own me? You’re not going to take what you own?”
Gloved hands shoved him harshly back, and he landed on the bed with an “oof.” Zhongli crawled on top of him. One of his gloved hands gripped his chin harshly.
“You’re a little slut, aren’t you? Did you get too worked up thinking about slitting her throat?”
God, Zhongli could read him like a book.
Ajax trembled in his grip. “After my missions, I can get a little…needy,” he said. “If that weirds you out, I can go elsewher—”
The click of his pistol’s safety made Ajax pause. Golden eyes burned, as cool metal was pressed against his temple.
“I own you. Stray from me, and it will be a short affair.” Zhongli paused, almost as if he was expecting Ajax to freak out, or fight him off. But, he only bucked his hips upward, erection seeking Zhongli’s own above him.
He groaned, grinding his hips down into Ajax’s. “Maybe we belong together.”
His gun was abandoned for now, somewhere to the side of them as they kissed and bit and licked. Zhongli’s fingers pulled him back by his hair, exposing his throat before biting down. Ajax nearly howled—pain and pleasure all wrapped up in one, crossing the wires in his fucked up head. He clawed at Zhongli’s back until he got the hint and removed his jacket, and then Ajax nearly ripped open his vest, his shirt, in his haste to touch and grab at his skin. Zhongli pried the thin fabric of Ajax’s black shirt off too—
They were wild. Zhongli hissed as Ajax’s nails dug into his back (and did he catch glimpses of a dragon tattoo?) and Ajax groaned and whined as Zhongli’s teeth continued to press into his skin, and his lips left him covered in bruises. Left his nipples red and raw and sensitive. Their pants were kicked off without much hesitation, and three gloved fingers were shoved in Ajax’s mouth.
He did his best to wet them, lavishing his tongue around each digit, even as they pressed too far back in his throat and he choked.
“Your mouth looks pretty like that. Stuffed full.” Zhongli said, dark and low. “Would you keep my cock warm while I work sometime?”
Ajax nodded to the best of his ability as Zhongli’s fingers continued their attempt to fuck his face. Finally, he pulled away, leaving his mouth open wide, drool spilling from the corners of his lips.
The spit helped ease the press of that first gloved finger inside. Not much, but Ajax didn’t care. Zhongli pulled back and returned with two more fingers, meeting some resistance, but pressing forward anyway, and again and again and again. Ajax thrashed and moaned and his cock leaked precum onto his stomach.
“So fucking tight,” Zhongli grunted. “You’re going to feel so good spread open on my cock.”
Ajax whined, thrashing and kicking at him until Zhongli pulled his fingers away. “Come on, please, I’ll be so good.”
He watched through hazy eyes as Zhongli spat into his hands, pulling his underwear down enough to free his cock, fucking into his spit-slick palm. He was…
“That’s gonna wreck me,” Ajax said, and his voice was already fucked out and breathy. But, fuck, his cock was huge. “Gonna hurt so good.”
Zhongli grabbed his thighs, pushing them up and back until Ajax was nearly bent in half, grateful to fucking Vinea that she’d made him take all those dance lessons and could handle such a stretch. And before he could spare her one more thought, Zhongli pressed forward, the head of his cock bullying inside, stretching his rim wide.
Ajax shrieked. Shouted, maybe. He thrashed his legs out, but Zhongli had them in a firm grip, and so he had to take it, take every inch of his cock, so very big inside him that he felt like he was being torn apart. It hurt, it stung, but it was good, too—so, so good. His cock pressed insistently up against his prostate, and it made Ajax’s own cock twitch and leak even more. Tears spilled from his eyes, but they rolled back in pleasure anyway, as Zhongli bottomed out.
A gloved thumb traced the trail of his tears. “Beautiful,” Zhongli mumbled. He pulled back until only the head of him remained inside, before pressing forward once more. He gave a few, fluid thrusts, not particularly gentle, but not hard either. The pain slowly faded to something more manageable, and Ajax was able to breathe again.
“I hope you’re not going easy for my sake.” Ajax bit out.
“I need you to be able to walk out of here later,” Zhongli countered.
Ajax huffed, even as Zhongli’s cock grazed his prostate again, lighting him up. “Boring.”
Zhongli growled, and all at once Ajax’s world shifted as he was flipped around. A hand pushed him facedown into the mattress, while the other hiked his ass up in the air. Before he could even catch his breath, Zhongli was in him again, and this time, his thrust made a harsh smacking sound from the force of it. Ajax’s hands tore into the bedsheets, moaning and crying as he finally got fucked the way he wanted. It wound him up, and up and up—between the assault on his insides and his hand around his cock, he was about to—
Zhongli slowed down, and Ajax let out a sob. He was still deep inside, but now he draped his body over Ajax’s on the bed. Blanketed by his body, there was nowhere to go, nothing to do but take it as he rolled his hips in sinuous, wicked motions inside him.
“Haven’t you realized? You’ll take what I give you, Ajax.” Zhongli’s words were spoken into his skin, followed by a harsh bite into his shoulder. “Pain, pleasure. All for me to decide.”
Cool metal dragged along his spine, before resting at the back of his head. The pistol.
“I could kill you right now if I wanted to. But, I think even with your smart mouth you’re more valuable to me alive.”
A few more slow rolls tortured him before Zhongli picked up the pace again. The gun, dropped, as a leather-covered hand threaded into his sweaty red hair. The force of his new thrusts sent him nearly halfway up the bed, Zhongli pulling him back onto his cock every time
“Come for me,” Zhongli commanded, and Ajax was powerless to resist. He didn’t even know the difference between pain and pleasure anymore, but whatever it was overwhelmed him, and he was gone, coming all over the sheets below him. His insides clenched so tightly around Zhongli’s cock that he heard the other man gasp on top of him, pushing inside once, twice, again, before warmth blossomed inside of him.
“So…full,” Ajax slurred. His head was spinning, and he was overstimulated, shivering at the sensation of Zhongli’s cum spilling out around his softening cock. He whined when Zhongli pulled back—empty, he was so, so empty—Zhongli made a real mess of him, he could feel the way his hole winked and tried to close around nothing, dripping cum down his thighs and onto the sheets below.
He could feel the golden gaze there, but he paid it no mind. Someone finally scratched that rough, crazy itch inside him, at least when it came to sex. A surprised noise left Ajax’s lips as hands turned him around, and they both lay on their sides, facing each other.
Zhongli looked at him in a way that almost seemed affectionate.
“It would be wise to start killing a few high-profile Fatui leaders she’s sent to Fontaine before anyone realizes you’re alive.”
Ajax nodded. “Maybe you should tell her you killed me. Throw her off the trail even longer.”
Zhongli laughed. “Shall I send a letter back? Dear Vinea, he was a lousy fuck and not worth the effort it took to kill him.”
Ajax frowned. “Must you speak ill of the dead?”
“You’ll need a new alias. Tartaglia is dead.” Zhongli thought out loud. “New passport, ID, papers. I’ll get Yanfei on it immediately.”
“Lawyer on the take?” Ajax asked.
Zhongli nodded. “A damn good one. While we get the papers settled, we’ll need to keep you out of sight. Maybe a few weeks to a month, before the Tsaritsa lets her guard down. I will have a room prepared at my estate, and—”
Ajax cut him off. “You’re taking me home?” He grinned.
“It’s well-guarded, and for at least a little while you will be a well-kept secret. Many amenities will be at your disposal there. I know it will be strange to integrate yourself into my organization—I will not throw you to the wolves alone, you will accompany me when you can, so everyone learns to respect you.” Zhongli explained.
“Accompany you? Like what, a trophy wife?” He mumbled.
Zhongli’s hands wandered, playing with his chest, the dip of his waist, a scar on his hip. “Would that really be so bad? I told you, you’ll want for nothing. I will take you to nice restaurants and the opera. I’ll buy you anything you want. You’ve left everything behind, so you’ll need new clothes, new guns, new, pretty knives.”
Oh. He really wasn’t kidding, huh?
Zhongli smiled, seeing the flush creeping up Ajax’s cheeks. “I’ll buy you a collar—black leather, adorned with my favorite cor lapis gemstone. Let it be proof of our deal. Proof that you’re mine.”
And he had always belonged to someone—but before, it was wrapped in a pretty lie, where Vinea let him think he had a choice. At least Zhongli was honest.
Maybe Zhongli owned him, but with the way his golden eyes could not look away, perhaps Ajax owned him a little bit too.
“Yours,” he agreed, and while Rex Lapis’ deals were usually signed in blood, this one was sealed with a kiss.
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<3