Chapter 170: Chapter 170: Negotiation
The ride back to the office was a mirror of the one that morning, but the mood had shifted. Victor lounged in his seat, jacket off now, one arm draped along the backrest behind Elias as if the space belonged to him. Elias sat angled toward him, tablet forgotten on his lap, a new diet coke sweating in his hand like a prop he’d stopped noticing.
Across from them, Ashwin stared out the opposite window with the air of a man regretting every life choice that had led him here. He’d been the one pushing Elias to open up, to stop circling Victor like a cat around a bathtub. Now he was stuck in a moving box with the result: soft looks, low voices, and Victor’s thumb idly brushing the back of Elias’s hand as if it had a mind of its own. Third wheel didn’t even cover it.
Elias ignored the bodyguard’s suffering and leaned back against the seat, eyes glinting with mischief. "All right," he said, "twenty questions."
Victor’s brows lifted, amused. "You’re going to start now?"
"Why not?" Elias said. "We’ve got, what, fifteen minutes before we’re back to spreadsheets? Might as well torment you."
Victor tilted his head, crimson eyes glinting. "You’ll lose."
"I know," Elias admitted cheerfully, twisting the coke can in his fingers. "But I’m going to enjoy losing."
Ashwin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please tell me you’re not about to flirt in riddles for the entire ride."
Elias glanced at him. "You’re welcome to guess too."
"I’d rather jump out," Ashwin muttered.
Victor chuckled low, the sound a warm thread through the hum of the engine. "Go ahead, then. Guess."
Elias tapped his chin theatrically. "Is your original name... something dramatic? Lots of syllables?"
Victor’s smile curved. "Warmer than you think."
"Of course it is," Elias said. "You’re the only guy I know who could turn a name into a flex."
Ashwin groaned softly and slid lower in his seat, already regretting every mile of the ride.
"Does anyone alive know your name?" Elias went on, unbothered by the whiny bodyguard and twirled the cold can between his palms like it was part of the interrogation.
Victor’s mouth curved, a faint flicker of teeth. "Alive won’t really cover it," he said lazily, eyes glinting. "But yes. A handful of gods...and Uno himself."
Elias stopped mid-tap, head tilting. "Right. Uno. Your boss. Executioner and creator... funny mix." He shifted the can between his palms again, gaze sharpening. "How often do you two actually talk?"
Victor chuckled low, a sound like velvet over steel. "When there’s something to execute. Or when he’s bored."
"And you just...pick up the phone when the universe calls?" Elias asked, dry but genuinely curious now. "What does Uno even sound like?"
Victor’s crimson eyes flicked to him, still glinting. "Like every voice you’ve ever trusted layered at once," he said softly. "Like something you can’t say no to."
Ashwin made a faint choking noise and stared harder out the window. "Do you two realize how insane you sound? I’m sitting right here."
Elias ignored him, leaning a fraction closer to Victor, mind racing. "So what’s he like off the clock? Cold? Funny? Does the grand creator tell jokes?"
Victor’s smile deepened, his thumb brushing the back of Elias’s hand in that same slow, grounding circle. "He does," he said. "But only to me. You’d hate them."
Elias hummed, thinking. "Is he walking on earth?"
Victor’s crimson eyes slid to him, a glint of something sharper under the amusement. "When," he asked, voice still velvet but edged with a flicker of jealousy, "did the subject change from me and my name to Uno?"
Elias’s mouth quirked, catching it immediately. "Oh no. The executioner’s jealous of his boss?"
Victor leaned in a little, shoulder brushing Elias’s, smile gone shameless again. "Of course I am. You’re supposed to be curious about me, not the one who sent me."
Elias laughed under his breath. "Relax. You’re still my favorite apocalypse."
Victor’s thumb stroked once more over his knuckles, coaxing. "Good," he murmured. "Now ask me about me again."
Elias groaned and tipped his head back against the seat. "Fine. You win. Now answer the question before I lose the will to live: is your boss walking around down here or not?"
Victor’s grin turned slow and feline. "What makes you think I’d tell you?"
"Because," Elias said, eyes half-lidded, "you like it when I ask." He nudged Victor’s knee with his own, the tiniest provocation. "So? Earthside or not?"
From the other seat, Ashwin finally dragged his gaze off the window, curiosity flickering through the boredom. "Wait," he said, brow furrowing. "Are we seriously talking about Uno being on earth?"
From the jump seat, Ashwin made a vague noise, arms folded, obviously pretending not to listen but very much listening. Elias, leaning back against the cool leather with the diet coke still cold in his palm, huffed a laugh under his breath.
"Then what’s your price?" he asked without thinking. The question left his mouth on a lazy exhale, but the second it was out he regretted it. Victor’s grin widened, a slow flash of teeth that felt like a shift in temperature. The scent of smoke deepened, curling faintly in Elias’s nose.
"Marry me," Victor said, perfectly calm, as if he were suggesting dessert.
Elias blinked. "...Excuse me?"
Victor’s thumb traced another slow circle over his knuckles. His palm was warm; Elias could feel the faint thrum of the other man’s pulse even through the fabric. "You asked my price."
"That’s not a price," Elias said, somewhere between a groan and a laugh. "That’s..."
"A bargain," Victor cut in shamelessly. "Information in exchange for a lifetime contract. Seems fair."
From the front seat Ashwin actually choked, turning half-around, eyes wide. "Oh for god’s sake, it’s barely three in the afternoon," he muttered, then sank lower into the seat as if the upholstery could swallow him.
Elias dragged a hand down his own face, trying not to smile. "You’re insufferable," he muttered, but there was a reluctant warmth under the words. The car smelled of leather and coffee and then like something intimate trapped behind tinted glass.
Victor leaned a fraction closer, shoulder brushing Elias’s, his scent rising again, smoky-sweet against the iris. "And you’re still curious," he murmured. "Now, do you still want your answer... or are you going to keep negotiating?"