Кормящий свиней.

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i can’t become king if someone else already sits on the throne.

      “ What model is it? ”

" -- It is S 350. "  Sergei arched an eyebrow as the other touched his car. He quietly shut the door and shook his head at him, as if that was enough to make the other man stop  touching his property. His only property actually.    " Look. Don't touch. "

freddie, annoyed, threw the rest of his chip butty out the window and gently sucked what was left of the red sauce from his thumb. ❛you know,❜ he began, gently rubbing his fingers together afterward. ❛you could afford t’ loosen up a bi’. …an’ it’s a butty, by the way.❜

Sergei exhales through his nose and sits back against his seat only when he's sure the hellish butty is out of his vehicle. He listens to Freddie's mumbling and can feel his eyes rolling into the back of his skull. He nearly sighs out the next few words. "You made my boss  angry. He is sending person to take care of you.  Eating butty is not best priority, Peterson. "

It was painful—and if Sergei had broken his nose, he wasn’t sure  that  even  that  would  have  him angry at his worker. No, he had a  great  deal  of trust in Sergei. As well as admiration;  he didn’t have any trouble with wanting to  put  Mason  in his  place.  And  while,  in  the  end,  he  always considered himself to be higher than  Sergei  in status, he appreciated the man’s boldness.       “I think I would have wanted you here regardless.”

There's a small moment of silence after Mason speaks. The Russian is meant to say something dismissive but ends up exhaling instead, one gloved hand raising to pinch the bridge of his nose. He already gets away  with enough things that most employee wouldn't be allowed to live through. This, Sergei thought, was cruel.  " You need to stop saying these things, gospodin."

❛…it’s a fucking butty, ma’e.❜

" Throw it away or you will shit butter for rest of the month. "

"A blow like that isn’t being very careful for me,” he quipped, a huff of laughter leaving him as gloved hands took  the  silk offered to  him.  That  done,  he  reached  up to  wipe  at  the drying blood smeared above his  lips,  pulling  it  away  and looking down at the cloth  with  another  series  of  chuckles leaving him.                 “—You’re a strong one.”

"If I wasn't careful I would break nose." Sergei answered softly, as if speaking to a child. He watches his silk being smeared with Mason's blood and there's a voice in the back of his head congratulating him. DNA, this could be useful, Verger blood can be a powerful weapon. But he can't help but exhale at the man's last comment. Verger had grown on him. Unfortunately.     "...Would I be working for you if I wasn't?"

Perhaps he might have been pushing the subject, but the heir had to take precautions.   He did,  in the  end, trust Sergei, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t looking out for himself.  After all—the  disappearances  gave  him his suspicions. Truth be told, if Sergei was an officer, Mason wouldn’t be  happy  with  having  to  have  him taken care of. The blood is a mess on his face while he grins, gaze trailing elsewhere. “I’m only being careful, Sergei.”

Sergei watches Mason's eyes shift behind the bloodied lenses. The younger man takes the matter a bit too easily. Which worries Sergei. If he ever were to be found out he has no doubts he'd be fed to the pigs himself. And Mason wouldn't even blink. He gives a few steps forward, taking the silk from his pocket and handing it to his boss in order for him to wipe the blood off his face.      " My job is to be careful for you, gospodin. "