Last Violent Call

by Chloe Gong

He had started speaking long before he saw the scene in front of him, because Roma Montagov knew that Juliette could isolate the sound of his steps, and she wouldn’t take kindly to the ones that were not his.

According to one man whom they didn’t work with anymore, Juliette was “scary” and “too easily prone to making threats.”

Lmao

“I’m Mrs. Mai.” Mai. The easiest combination of “Cai” and “Montagov,” perhaps the least original method of creating an alias in the history of starting anew.

“I need your help. I assume you make the big calls. Please.” Juliette cast a glance over to Roma. “Did you hear that? He thinks I’m in charge.” “Don’t pretend to be shocked.”

“My fiancée is being threatened.” Ah. Juliette let out a small sigh, leaning into her chair. Of course it was something like this that got Roma’s sympathy. Him and his soft heart. She adored him so much that it hurt.

Yulun’s fiancée looked just like Alisa, Roma’s little sister.

Wutttt

She liked admiring him without being afraid of getting caught. She liked it when she spotted him at the open market unexpectedly, breaking into a run and surprise-attacking him from the back, getting a laugh in response instead of a gun pulled on her. Their past had made every moment of their future a novelty, and she would never get sick of peppering him with kisses when she woke him up in the mornings, waiting for him to draw away before she was willing to stop—only he always refused to draw away first, offering his face with the biggest grin.

She and Roma were the same that way. It was their greatest flaw and their greatest strength at once, and she doubted that would ever change.

“Has anyone ever told you,” Roma began, opening the front door, “that you leave threats like a gangster heiress?” “Never heard that once in my life,”

Science could tell him that the ground was below his feet and the sky was above his head and the early light of day was upon his back. Roma wouldn’t listen. To him, Juliette was the sun.

REALLY, ROMA?! THIS IS THE LAST AND FINAL TIME ANYONE DOES THIS, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?! GET YOUR WIFE ON THE LINE, I HAVE SOME WORDS FOR HER, TOO

Juliette knew how to take an opening. Without missing a beat, she threw her knife, landing it dead center in the man’s throat.

Love her

If he didn’t love Juliette so much, he would really spend every waking moment in fear of what went on in that mind of hers.

“It’s Juliette Montagova.” She lifted her hand and waved her fingers, flashing her gold wedding ring while she continued onward and exited the living room. “I’m a married woman. Roma, come help me get the knives, would you?” In that moment, as Roma pushed off the wall and followed her obediently, he fell in love all over again.

Ahhhhh

“You can have my neck later when we’re not committing crime.” “Promise?” “Have I ever broken a promise?” Before Juliette could say a thing, Roma spun her around, walking them forward. “No—don’t answer that. Rhetorical question.”

“What were you shushing me for?” Roma whispered after a few seconds. “You were the one talking.” “I like telling you to shut up,” Juliette replied. “Do you?” “Absolutely.” Entirely straight-faced, she added, “It gets me all hot and bothered.”

“My knees have been creaking since I was fifteen.” “It’s all that lying you did. Aged you prematurely.” “All right, Saint Juliette. Enough about my past crimes before I start airing yours, too.”

He waited for a few seconds before saying, “It was adequate. Good conversation?” “Absolutely,” she replied, at the same time that the receptionist grumbled, “No.” Juliette flashed a grin.

With a careful eye for rocks in his path, Roma hurried down the steep grassy decline, finding his footing a second before Juliette and lunging to catch her elbow before she could teeter on her own landing.

“You won’t ever lose me,” he repeated, sounding so serious even with the jest in their actions. “And I love you, to have and to hold as my unlawfully wedded wife, until the universe itself goes poof.”

In response, Roma dropped a kiss on her forehead, short and sweet and tired. Then he waited, looking at her instead of going to sleep. “What?” Juliette asked. “You haven’t kissed me back,” he said.

“Did you kick your husband onto the sofa?” “That’s ridiculous—I would never kick him onto the sofa,” Juliette replied. “If he ever angers me, a better punishment would be for him to continue sleeping next to me, feeling the power of my wrath.”

“Please stay here. Shoot anyone who comes in through the door.” “Excuse me?” Celia spluttered. “I didn’t bring a gun!” Juliette adjusted her left shoe. “There’s one under the coffee table!”

“We are merely on a retrieval mission that you are interrupting,” he spat. “It is not our fault that they are brainwashed to kill themselves the moment we get near.”

“Christ, Juliette, you could have waited two minutes.” Her vision focused on her savior, framed by the morning sun. Roma had never looked so beautiful, even while he was glaring at her. She most definitely had blood on her lip when she grinned in return. “Stop looking so happy that you got beaten up.”

“I have an internal compass that centers on you instead of true north.”

They had tied them up. Roma had watched with some light concern as Juliette got overly enthusiastic with the task, going as far as to wrap rope around one of the men until he looked near mummified.

Lmao

“Hey,” Juliette said. The word was muffled because she hadn’t bothered drawing away first. “Hmm?” “We should have a fight.” Roma made a perplexed sound, thinking he had misheard her. “I beg your pardon?” “We’re too content with each other all the time,” she continued. “It’s unnatural.”

“The scales tipped too far when we were younger. This is a slow restoration of justice.” “And at what point are the scales entirely restored?” “Never.” In a sudden swoop, Roma employed his favorite tactic, grabbing her by the waist and picking her up to the sound of her squeal. “You are stuck with me and utter contentment for all of time and beyond.”

“Stop pleasing me so much!” Juliette yelled after him. “I can’t help it, you’re the love of my life!” Roma shouted back.

“All right. I like that.” She took his offered hand, fingers interlacing. “And then the guns start blazing?” Roma sighed with affection and exasperation in equal measure. “You,” he muttered, “are such a pain in the ass.”

“Please be sensible about this,” he said calmly. “There is no reason to point your gun at me.” Roma dropped his nice demeanor. “She never needs a reason to point her gun anyway.

Lmao

Juliette caught his wrist, rolling her eyes. Was that it? The whole plan that had been whirling behind his eyes while he talked? She twisted his arm hard, and Pyotr yelled out, dropping the pen. It clattered to the floor. Roma glanced down to track where it was rolling, his nose scrunched like he smelled something bad. “You could have at least lunged for me instead,” he said dully. “My reflexes are a little slower.”

Lol

quiet. Roma and Juliette exchanged another glance, communicating a decision. In the aftermath of his declaration, Pyotr looked very, very smug. Then Juliette fired her gun.

“God,” she said, wiping the spatter from her neck, “he was so annoying. Does he think safes are bulletproof?”

“You’re trying to get us told off for being a public nuisance,” Benedikt muttered. “I could switch gears if you want to get told off for public obscenity instead,” Marshall replied. He puckered for a kiss. “Marshall.” “Love you too. Line’s moving.”

“Stop flirting with me while we’re on an important mission.” Though Benedikt didn’t swivel around to look, he knew that Marshall had a sly expression while he proceeded after him. “Can’t I? You don’t look like a married man. Seems like delicious low-hanging fruit to me.”

“I thought you were my roommate.” “We can’t be roommates who kiss?” Benedikt threw a rolled-up pair of socks at his husband. “Unpack, Mars.”

“Did you… use my name?” Marshall, meanwhile, leaned over to whisper to Benedikt. “You do not like it?” Marshall grinned. “I like it very much, Mr. Sokov.”

“Damn it, Marshall,” he hissed, reaching for a cold spoon and pressing it to his neck.

Lol a hickey!!!!

“Hey.” Benedikt reached up to touch Marshall’s arm, his tone turning earnest. “Don’t fret so much. I am supposed to be the nervous one.” “We cannot both be the nervous one?” “Absolutely not. That is far too many nerves in one marriage.”

“Ben?” “If this is another ghost theory, I might hit you.” “In an erotic way?” “In a murder way, Mars.” “Maybe I should have been interviewing you as a possible killer.”

“You wake me,” Benedikt said, pulling back a fraction. “When there is a killer on the loose and you’re you and I’m me, you wake me.”

Marshall grasped Benedikt’s face, smacking a dozen kisses anywhere he could. “You are my hero,” he declared. “Plucked me right up like a mighty rescuer.”

“I would reroute the train with my bare hands before I left you behind,” he said matter-of-factly. “How very romantic.”

We met this girl who resembled Alisa to an eerie degree. Roma’s voice echoed over from a few months ago, the phone signal staticky. I figure it was the universe telling me I needed to help her. “Your name isn’t Yeva Mikhailovna,” Benedikt said when she opened her door. “It’s Mila Yu.”

Whattt

Mila brought her shoulders up, covering her ears in a manner that almost resembled embarrassment. “Sorry.” Benedikt almost laughed. Here she was, apologizing for making it hard to cover up the murder she had committed.