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Chapter Text

The dream was so real that when I wake up it takes me a few minutes to differentiate reality from my own imagination.

The problem is that after I realize it was just a dream, I understand I have a new mission in life and for that, I need to convince my Lottus Flower to come with me.

Not that I believe to be too hard to convince him, especially since we are talking about my Baby, and he surely have a soft spot for me.

I believe him to actually be head over heels in love with yours truly, but I’m not one to brag about it.

Not all the fucking time, at least.

So, I wait patiently for him to wake up and in the meantime, I fix some breakfast for us, scramble eggs and coffee for me and an English breakfast tea to Brandon, since God forbid him to drink a cup of coffee like a normal person in the morning.

I only have one problem with the part where I said I would wait patiently for Bran to wake up.

The waiting part is a bitch and I make the breakfast too quickly, not being much of a distraction for my mind that’s running wild with ideas and shit.

So, I decide the waiting is done and go with our cups to our room.

I mean, if I don’t wake him up soon, waaaay before the time he usually wakes, the food will go cold and I’m not the one to waste good tea and eggs.

So here am I in the early hours of the morning sneaking towards Brandon under the covers, tugging him into my chest and sucking on his nape, in a very gentle way at the beginning, but things escalate very fast when my Prince Charming begins to rub his ass against me, waking up Kolya in no time.

But I remember myself of my mission and so, using all the strength in me, I gently put some distance between us.

Chill Kolya, we must think first and act later. Because yeah, we’re totally acting later, don’t worry about that.

“Good morning, Baby” I say, biting the shelf of his ear. “I made you tea”.

“Humm, who are you and what you did to my husband?”.

My heart misses a beat at Brandon calling me husband, even though we’ve been married for almost two years now.

The most amazing and beautiful years of my life if you want to ask me.

“I can show you later who your husband is, Baby” I reply lighting the lamp on the bedside table and giving him his cup of tea when he seats at our bed. “But first, tea and talking”.

Brandon cheeks blush deliciously, and I can see his mind working on my promise and the things I’ll do to him later, but then he realizes I want to talk too and normally he’s the one to initiate discussions, so suspicious takes place.

“Am I in trouble or something?”

“Maybe. Do you have something to tell me, Baby?” I tease him, trying to hold my smile.

“No?”

“It’s a question or an answer?”

Brandon clears his throat and fetches his watch, realizing how early I woke him up.

“Nikolai” he says firmly, straightening his back and looking at me with his beautiful blue eyes, that even in the dim light are breathtaking. “You’re freaking me out now, what it’s going on?”

I laugh at the sight of him, all worried and serious, but than remember I’ll need he’s approval for the plan to happen and decide to tell him soon before he’s very limited patience with me goes to an end.

“I had a dream.”

“All this because of a dream?”

“It wasn’t a common dream.”

“Ok?”

“I want to have a baby” I blur out.

Brandon almost chokes on his tea, and I need to tap his back to be sure he doesn't die, his face a mix of someone gushing for air and also completely confuse.

 After he get his shit together and puts the cup of tea back at the nightstand, he straight himself again at the bed, back to being the prince charming that he is, but he’s also all serious now, his eyes inquisitive.

“Baby, this is all because last week, Cecily told us she’s pregnant?” he asks, his voice and eyes gentle, like he’s trying not to say something that it’s going to hurt me.

“No… I mean, I guess no” I reply, crossing my arms on my chest, flexing a little too much since I know Brandon loves the view. “I’m very happy for them, but I want a baby because of my dream.”

“What dream?”

“This night I had this vivid dream where we had two kids, a boy and a girl, and it was the most amazing dream I ever had, no joking.”

Brandon smile at me, his eyes shining so brightly I want to devour him on the spot.

“Why it was so amazing?” he asks, getting his tea back and taking a sip.

“Baby, I wsh you could have seen it” I began to say while getting closer to him in bed as if, somehow, I can put the memories in his head if I get close enough. “The boy looked just like you, all charming and proper and very English, but also with the most beautiful blue eyes and hair, just like you.”

“What about the girl? Or in your dream they all looked like me?” he laughs.

“The girl looked strangely like me” I confess, holding a smile when Brandon laughs again at that “I mean, she was pretty and not at all manly, thank fuck, but she had my hair and weird look in her eyes.”

“You don’t have a weird look in your eyes.” Brandon says, taking my hand and interlacing our fingers gently.”

“Thanks, Baby” I reply, pulling him to a kiss.

I want to deep in the kiss as soon our lips touch and I can taste the tea in his lips, but again I hold myself, wanting to tell him al about our dream kids before, somehow, I forget about everything.

“The thing is, Baby, it’s not about their looks, but how much fun we had.” I proceed, my face remaining close to his. “The boy liked to run with us in the morning and cooking, but also liked to play soccer with me and play fight, as if he was the perfect mix of us, you know?”

Brandon nods, his face covered with the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen since the day of our wedding when he finally said, ‘I do’ and we promised to be together into beyond dead, since nothing can be between us and our love for each other, not even death itself.

“The girl was so fun too, Baby, she liked to go to the gym with me and swimming, where we competed to see who could hold their breaths under water longer.” Bran rolls his eyes at that, and I bite his lip in return, just because. “She’s also very funny and strong, like her daddy.”

I laugh at the memory and for a moment I forget where I am, just too excited with the idea of these kids been real someday and ours, Brandon’s and mine.

Our perfect mix.

I come back to the present and pause, my eyes searching on Bran’s for any clue of his thoughts on the idea of us having children together, but I can’t decipher anything, and anxiety suddenly consumes me. Still, I don’t say nothing, hoping for my Lottus Flower to break the silence and say something, anything at this point.

Brandon puts his cup away and get his eyes on me again, they’re gentle and warming, as if he wants to say something I won’t like, but the wants to do it with love and care. When he opens his mouth, I prepare myself for the big fat no I’m about to receive.

“So, we’re good with two kids then? More than that I’m not so sure I can handle.”

I can’t hold back the smile that grows wide in my face, and I jump on top of him, kissing him deep, with eager and lust.

When we’re about to go deeper into the kiss and rip each other’s clothes – or in the case, Brandon’s pjs, since I can’t make myself wear anything to bed – I let go of his lips so I can look at his face, all flush and bright.

“We are doing this, then? You and I, parents.”

“Yes, Niko.” He replies, his voice rusty and sexy while with his fingers tangled in my hair just the way he loves it. “As long is you and I, I’ll do anything in life.”

I can’t contain myself, or Kolya, anymore and I kiss him deep enough to make us became one and never be apart anymore.

With that kiss, and everything that followed, we started our new chapter together and I couldn’t be more in love with this man I have the privilege to call mine.

_________________________________________________

18 months later

Brandon

“They’re the way you dreamed of?” I ask in a whisper, so I don’t wake up the twins.

“More, Baby, they’re so fucking more.”

Nikolai and I are sitting on our couch, each at one end of it, with a baby each in our chests.

It’s been almost two weeks since the birth of Edgar and Agatha King Sokolov, via surrogate, and even though we are tired and deprived of sleep, we couldn’t be happier and in love with each other and the twins.

I look at my husband, who’s only wearing his shorts while holding a sleep Agatha in his bare chest and I think my heart will finally give out and stop, being consumed with all this love and happiness I’ve never would’ve believed I would live before meeting this man… My man.

“You’re going to drool on Eddy, Baby” he whispers to me with a smile that could be considered a work of art, even better than all the work I've ever done in my life.

“It fits you” I simply reply, caressing our baby boy in my chest. “Being a dad really suits you”.

“It fits us, Baby” he replies and then he gets up really slowly, holding Agatha close to his chest.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting these little guys on the nursery so I can fuck their papa into oblivion.”

I almost wake Eddy up trying no to laugh at Nikolai while he goes put Agatha away. When he disappears into the room I whisper in my son’s ear, “sorry about that, Edgar, but I mean, it’s better to get used to it since your daddy is incorrigible.”

Edgar doesn’t seem to mind at all, still sleeping without a worry in the world as I get up and follow my husband and daughter to the nursery the twins share.

Our lives as parents are just beginning, but with Nikolai by my side, I know our family will be more than ok, and I can’t wait to live it all with them.

Chapter Text

In Alton, Illinois, passing the great river road on the Mississippi River, and in a very secluded area surrounded by acres of land, you can find one of the most beautiful mansions you’ll ever see. The house and its annex is painted a soft, faded white, three stories tall rectangular and well proportioned, plus the spacious attic,  and it has a deep porch that wraps around the first story.

With six master suites in the main house, four bedrooms for the kids and three more at the annex, the Volkov mansion is just the perfect place to while away the cold days close to Christmas with all our friends and family before each one of us has to go spend the real Christmas and New Years eve  with our parents.

But, even though its purpose is to be with all of our friends, - aka, Landon, Mia, Eli, Ava, Annika, Creighton, Killian, Glyndon, Gareth and Kayden - a couple of days before everyone arrives it’s only Jeremy, Cecily, Niko, me and our kids so we can enjoy just us for a bit and Jer and Niko can have a moment of “brotherhood” just the two of them. 

It has been like this since the first time we decided to meet before going to our parents for the holidays, when the twins and the Volkov kids were all less than one year old.

The only difference this year is that both Jeremy and Niko had to come later and it’s been two days only Cecily, me, four preschoolers and a one year old.

“Kira is finally down for her nap” Ces says as she sits across from me on the counter where I’m chopping green onions and carrots for the soup I’m making. “I don’t remember being this hard with the boys.”

I laugh, the memories of the twins giving me and Niko a hard time at bedtime every night when they were Kira’s age, not so long ago. It was hard. Very hard, but it also passed so fast that I actually miss all the bedtime stories and lullabies I had the chance to do so they would go to sleep.

Time is indeed a thief, I realize to myself.

“The twins were hard too” I say looking at her tired eyes “but it goes by so fast I kind of miss this time”.

“Tell me about it” she sighs “I know i’m tired and all, but with Kira being my last I just can’t help to feel wistfulness with the idea that after her milestones it's going to be over forever.”

“But thank God for Jeremy’s vasectomy.” 

“Amen to that.”

We laugh at that and Cecily comes to my side of the counter to help me with supper before our husbands arrive.

Our kids, Sebastian, Maksim, Edgar and Agatha, soon would find us from whatever they are and complain of starvation, even though they just had their afternoon snacks not an hour ago. We needed to work on some food before that.

“I think it's too quiet, maybe I should…”

Before Cecily could finish her sentence the main door of the house unlocked and we both realized our husbands had arrived early. 

Cecily drops everything she's doing and runs to the door where, not much later, I can clearly hear her making out with Jeremy. I stay in place, seasoning the potatoes I'll roast in the oven, with all the calm in the world.

Before I count to seven I can feel Nikolai’s presence behind me and then I’m enveloped by his strong arms and chest, while also being inundated with his scent of bergamot that I love a little too much.

“Why didn’t you come greet me at the door like Cecily did with Jeremy? Didn’t you miss me, baby?”

Nikolai's voice is low and deep in my sensitive ear and his hot breath in my neck makes me instantly hot and bothered. 

With all the strength I have in me I hold my smile and respond to him in my most monotone possible.

“If I had come to greet you at the door, would I get you all jealous and glued to my ass as you are right now?”

He laughs at my ear and I almost combust in pure bliss just by that. I definitely can’t be without him, not even for a short period of time. He made me hooked on him and him only, and I don’t even care to complain.

In a rapid movement he turns me by my hip and I’m facing his beautiful face and blue eyes. Even though we have been married for a few years already, my heart begins to race just by the way he looks at me, like I’m the most beautiful person he has ever seen in his life.

“Hi, baby.” he says softly.

“Hi, love.” 

“Hmm, I can’t get enough of you calling me love” he says, his lips brushing mine “It’s so British of you, but also so cute.”

I’m about to say something when he captures my lips in a deep kiss, full of tongues and heavy breathing, that I almost forget where we are and reach for his belt and zippers so we can fuck like teenagers in the kitchen counter.

The sound of something falling in the upstairs room is the only thing that stopped us from ripping each other's clothes.

When Nikolai steps back a little I can see his red lips and lustful eyes glittering at me and the vision itself makes me gulp and stop breathing. 

“Later, my lotus flower.”

With a last bite of my lower lip Nikolai turns his back at me and begins to stretch his back, getting ready for the assault he was about to experience.

“Monsters! Daddy 's home!”

Before the count of five both Edgar and Agatha are running into Nikolai’s direction while he waits with his arms open. The kids reach their dad but instead of hugging him or something, they begin to climb him, clinging to his clothes and climbing up his body until, almost out of breath, they reach his arms, hanging like monkeys from a branch and filling the house with their squeals.

“Daddy, daddy, you are home!” Agatha says, her little face carrying the most beautiful smile while watching her dad turn her around in his right arm, so she’s sitting like a little baby in his biceps.

“I missed you, daddy” Edgar says too, his little eyes glittering with tears I know were about to come down.

“And I missed my two little monsters too,” he says, brushing his nose to Edgars, making him smile, “and I promise I won’t be away again for a very long time.”

“Pinky promise?” Agatha asks.

“Pinky promise.”

“Can we play hide and seek then?”

“No, I wanna play tag, Eddy.” 

“But we already played tag with Bash today.”

“Don’t care. I wanna play tag with daddy.”

Nikolai begins to jump, shaking the kids up and down in the process and as easy as that their little fight is over and everyone is laughing again.

“What about daddy go take a shower, change to confier clothes and, when I’m back, we decide together something to do?”

“After supper, of course.” I add from the kitchen door frame.

“But papa!” Both kids cry in unison. 

“What papa says.” Nikolai says  while putting the kids back on the floor. “Daddy’s gonna shower. We eat dinner. Then we decide what to play, deal?”

Before the kids could argue Nikolai pushed their little backs to the stairs direction so they could go back to whatever they were doing before. 

I’m still standing on the kitchen door frame when Nikolai looks back at me one more time before leaving, his eyes back to full lustful glittering and suddenly I no longer know how to breathe.

“You can go after him.” 

I almost jump to my feet when I hear Cecily talk at my side, appearing silently just like a ghost.

“You scared me, Ces.”

“Sorry,” she laughs, crossing her arms on her chest, “but I mean it, you can go and I'll finish up here.”

“What about Jeremy?”

“He got a call just after greeting the kids, but hey, I scratch your back now and you scratch mine later. What about that?”

“You made yourself a deal”.

I try not to run to mine and Nikolai’s room, but when I open the door I’m almost out of breath.

Our room is pretty big, with a king sized bed and a living area by the window, with two armchairs and small table, which is where I found Nikolai sitting while typing his phone, his white shirt halfway unbuttoned.

I lock the door behind me and with that he looks up from the phone noticing me, his eyes measuring me from top to toe, the text or e-mail he was typing long forgotten.

“Lotus Flower?” Nikolai says, his voice deep and husky, while leaning back in the chair and licking his lips.

I don’t know if I ever said that, but I’m obsessed with Nikolai’s “work” clothes, which are nothing out of the ordinary - a dress shirt, normally white, and black pants that seemed made just for his thighs, pressed only in the right places - but by just a look at him makes me feral.

Looking at him sitting, his legs apart and chest half exposed, just made me think how godly he looks and how he should be worshiped, so that’s what I decided to do next.

I walk slowly in Nikolai’s direction and I kneel in front of him, between his legs, licking my lips in frenzy with just the idea of worshiping him the way he deserves to be worshiped.

I reach for his belt and zipper, my hands fast and working mechanically, being for so long a expert in taking Nikolai’s clothes. In a second I have his already hard cock in my hands, his purple veins bulging on the sides and precum shining at the tip, close to the piercings.

Moving my hands slowly I look at Nikolai and his eyes darken back at me, the blue in them appearing unhinged, possessive and full of lust.  

His coarse fingers stroke my jaw, and a shiver goes through me at that, directly at my own cock. It’s been only two days, but it feels like I’m about to burst in my pants like a teenager.

I stroke his dick just the way I know he loves, teasing the crown and one of the piercings and I’m rewarded with Nikolai’s grunt and heavy breaths.

“You’re killing me, baby.” he says, his lustful voice rushes through me like an aphrodisiac.

I smile since I’ve always loved the idea of killing him in bed.

Before I guide him into my mouth I finish taking his pants and shirt off so I can look at his beautiful legs and chest while sucking the life out of him, which is precisely what I do next. 

“Fuck my throat, Niko.” I say before loosening my jaw just the way he likes. 

His eyes widen the slighted bit before they flood with twisted desire and I could get drunk with just the sight of them.

I bob my head up and down, taking as much of him as I can to the back of my throat with every slurp. I growl around his cock and he thickens even more against the vibration.

“Open wider, baby. Yes, just like that, fuck… Mmm baby, you’re so fucking good.”

As Nikolai goes harder and deeper inside my mouth, my balls tighten alongside my own dick and I reach inside my sweat pants so I can give myself some relief. 

Nikolai, noticing my doing, pulls my head out of his cock, grabbing a handful of my hair so he can direct my lips to his, where soon turns into a mess of tongues and teeth.

“Fuckinghell baby, I need you so fucking bad.”

In a second I’m kneeling on the floor, the next Nicolai is carrying me to bed and is ripping me off of my clothes, clashing our naked bodies together in bed.

My body is a mess of overstimulation, but I couldn't ask for anything better than this.

I dig my fingers in his back and hair, loosening it up and letting fall around us, stuffing my nose with his smell.

“Hmmm, baby, I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

Before I can say I’ve missed him too, I feel his fingers rubbing my entrance, slowly but firmly, just the way he knows I love. I almost never know when he reaches for the lube, but every single time I don’t give two fucks.

“Fuck, hmmm, Niko, just like that.”

He spreads his fingers inside me while biting my jaw, neck and lips, leaving me breathless.

I reach for our cocks, jerking them together firm and strong, making us both a mess of grunts and need for each other.

I can’t have him close enough. Touch him deep enough. I need more and more and fucking more of Nikolai, always and forever.

“I hope you’re good, baby, I can’t take anymore.”

“I’m good, Niko, just get the fuck inside of me now!”

Grinning like a literal god, he lifts my legs, throwing them over his shoulders and I can’t take my eyes off of him as he drives into me. 

It’s been really only two days since we fucked? He feels so huge inside of me while he gives me time to adjust. 

“Mmm fuck, baby. I missed your ass. It’s so good the way he always welcomes me home.”

I want to say something to that, but before I can Nikolai begins to move and the only thing in my mind is the feeling of wholeness only he can give me. 

With him, I’m always complete.

In no time Nikolai is pouding me like a madman, finding the rhythm that takes us both to the edge, so he pulls away from me, reaches between us, then squeezes my cock in a way I begin to see stars.

“Come for me, baby”.

“Fuckingfuck… Niko… I’m… I’m coming for you, baby.”

With that both of us come, my cock jerks, splattering my cum all over Nikolai’s abs and the sheets, while I can also feel his own cum filling me up completely. 

We stay in bed, naked and spend, for what feels like forever, just feeling each other after so long apart.

It was only two days, I know, but for Niko and I, it felt like years.

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, Niko.” I say as I play with his left nipple with my finger. “Don’t you think this made up for the days you left us alone.”

He laughs, his chest vibrating under my chin.

“I wouldn't dare to think that.” he says, kissing the top of my head and staying a minute longer to smell my hair. “I’m ready for whatever compensation you have in mind, my lotus flower.”

“Good, I'm going to think of something fit for the matter.”

We both laugh and kiss longley before getting our asses to the shower, otherwise soon our little monsters would come after us, especially after two long days without their daddy.

We almost get a round two in the shower, but collect ourselves before getting too much out of hand.

After supper, and while doing my part of the deal I did early with Cecily, Niko, me and the kids stayed in the living room to watch some movies. 

After half the second movie had passed, I noticed I was the last one standing awake, while Nikolai had the twins cocooning in his chest and the Volkov kids slept close to me, both with their heads in my legs.

I checked the baby monitor one last time to see if Kira was still asleep and then pulled Sebastian and Maksim closer to me, so I could join them in this collective nap.

For the longest time in my life I believed I didn’t deserve to be happy, to love and be loved or having a family of my own, but now, surrounded with the life I always dreamed of, I couldn't be happier. 

Looking at the kids one last time I realize once again that time is really a thief, but I would enjoy every second of it and with the love of my fucking life just by my side.

Chapter Text

The school principal called and one of my monsters is in trouble.

“Do you know more about why they call us in?” I ask Bran on the phone while parking in the school parking lot.

“Principal Braga didn’t tell me much, just that one of the twins was in trouble and they needed one of us there right away.”

I sigh.

I kind of knew this day would come, where I would be called because one of my children got in trouble, but I expect something around their fifthteen ou sixteen, not fucking ten.

How the fuck one ten year old can get in trouble at school anyway?

“I’m sorry I can’t come, but I have to go to this meeting about my next exposition.”

“Don’t you worry about that, Jer and Vaughn can survive one afternoon without me.” I reply, putting my phone on speaker while tying my hair in a bun so I can look a little more like a parent. “Who do you think is the trouble maker?”

Brandon laughs at the phone but immediately sighs, looking a bit worried just like me with the possibilities of having trouble with school so soon in this parenting journey of ours.

“It could be both, I mean, you know our kids… But if I had to guess, it would be Agatha.”

Agatha King Sokolov. My only daughter and the princess of chaos surely could find some way to get herself in trouble at school at this early age.

Surely this meeting is about her, since Edgar is becoming braver and more outspoken, but he’s still not even close to his twin sister, especially when the subject is to use her smart mouth and fists to solve her problems.

She reminds me of someone. But who, I wonder…

“Agatha or Edgar, it doesn't really matter, we just have to find a way to tame them before they are teens, or we are fucked.” Brandon says on the phone and I can feel he’s trying to be funny about the matter, especially if you think about the fact that if Agatha is who she is, probably is my fault, not his.

“I’ll take care of it and call you afterwards, ok baby?” I say, getting out of the car and marching towards the principal's office.

“Ok, but Nikolai?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you and we are going to be fine, okay?”

I sigh again, but this time with less weight on my shoulders thanks to my lotus flowers, as always.

In the end, even if our kids are trouble makers and it’s in big part my fault, we as a family will figure it out together, as we always do.

“I love you too, my lotus flower.”

Brandon hangs up as I’m about to turn the corner to the principal’s office and at that, I spot no other than Agatha sitting on the bench outside the office, her head held high even in the face of possibly getting in trouble.

I hide my smile before she sees me and I take a second in front of her before knocking the principal's Braga door and getting inside.

“Mr. Sokolov, thank you for coming in such short notice.”

Ms. Braga, the principal of the elite and very British school in New York, that Brandon insisted we put the twins in, is a middle aged woman with stern looks, but gentle tone and very serious attitude regarding her job. If I recall correctly, she’s a daughter of brazilians immigrants who skyrocketed academically and professionally, becoming the first female principal at the age of 38 of this institution.

Since the first visit at the school a few years back, before enrolling the kids in, I had a very good impression of her and personally liked her as a person and not just at her job.

Hope to keep it that way after this talk.

“Of course, Ms. Braga, you don’t even have to thank me for anything.” I replied, taking the only available seat in her office to sit. “So, I figure this has to do with something my daughter has done.”

In the other seat in Ms. Braga's office, just by my right, is a middle aged man that only has eyes to his phone, over his lap. His almost bald head is the only thing I can actually see, so I decide to ignore him for the moment being.

Ms. Brag looks for a fraction of a second to the man sitting next to me before replying.

“Yes, Mr. Sokolov, this meeting is in fact about Agatha.” she says in a monotone while looking at a paper on her desk. “I’ll be direct. She assaulted another student today and the boy is now at the hospital as we speak.”

I keep my best poker face as my head spins around the fact my daughter has assaulted another kid to the point of sending him to the hospital.

Is he dead? Is he at surgery? Did she use any weapon? If so, which one?

“This kid, is he ok?” I ask, trying to understand the situation she got herself into.

“Jason Scott.” The man by my side says suddenly, his eyes still on his phone.

“Beg your pardon?”

“The kid's name is Jason Scott.” He replied, finally looking in my direction, his green eyes without any emotion whatsoever, like this meeting was getting in the middle of more important things he should be doing.

“Mr. Sokolov, I’m sorry for the lack of introduction,” Ms. Braga says, gesturing to the men. “this is Coulton Scott, Jason’s father.”

Coulton Scott, Jason Scott father. I take a mental note in my head with a feeling I might need this information later on.

“Mr. Scott, I don’t know what happened between our children, but I’m sure we can clear everything out.” I say, trying my best to be polite.

“There is nothing to clear.” Coulton puts his phone inside his blazer and crosses his legs. “Your daughter assaulted my son without reason to the point of breaking his ribs, so I want her and the other King child expelled.”

“What does Edgar have to do with any of it?” I ask, trying not to growl at the men in front of me.

The man laughs in derision and, for a second, I can picture him without some of his teeth and a crooked nose.

“Gentlemen, let's try to resolve this delicate issue as reasonably as we can, please.” Ms. Braga interven, probably seeing beyond my facade.

“I want both of those kids out of this prestigious school, because clearly they don’t belong here and should get expelled before any further problems.”

The way he says ‘those kids’ like he means something else makes my eyes turn red and I can’t hide my anger anymore when I reply.

“What do you mean with ‘those kids’?”

“Oh, for fuck sake… I mean what I mean.” he responds, throwing his hands in the air. “Just because you, a some sort of thug, maries someone from the King family, doesn’t mean you are one of them… One of us. And those kids, even though they end up being from the King’s DNA, they still end up being influenced by your lifestyle, so it’s better they be away from our kids.”

“Mr. Scott, please…”

“And let’s not talk about the issue of them being ‘married’ to one another.” Coulton keeps saying and pointing at me as if I’m not here, as if he has all the right in the world to do so. “I know some places are less conservative than others, but this is a prestigious and long-established school, with values some of us want to keep and… Let's face it, two men marrying is not in those values.”

I’m about to stand up and kill the man in front of me when principal Braga beats me up to it, standing from her chair looking absolutely terrifying as she speaks to the trash can of a man, Coulton Scott.

“Mr. Scott, I let you stay here with the premise you would want to discuss the assault on your child, Jason, but in no way I’ll allow you to say such a homophobic rhetoric in the name of this institution, are we clear?”

“But I…”

“Are. We. Clear?”

For the first time since I meet this dead weight of a man he dicides to do the right thing and shut the fuck up before I help him with that.

“Mr. Sokolov, back to your question, well, Jason had three broken ribs, a dislocated nose and splitten lip.”

I have to use all the power in me to not smile as principal Braga enlist all the things my daughter has done to the child of the piece of shit sitting beside me. Sure, I’ll have to talk to her to get the reason behind it, but by the look of the father, this Jason must not be so different.

I can hide the pride in my face, but not in my heart.

“Do we have Agatha’s version of the altercation?”

“Well, she didn’t want to share the exact words, but she alleges that Jason has been saying homophobic remarks about your son around the school.”

“If she can’t say exactly what my son allegedly said to her, then we can assume she’s lying, can’t we?”

“My daughter is not a liar.” I grunt, sitting at the edge of the chair and holding its arms so tightly to the point of almost breaking.

“With a thug of a father, I wouldn't doubt…”

I stand up of my chair but before I can reach this dead man Ms. Braga is gently, but firmly, taking me out of the way and positioning herself between us.

“Mr. Sokolov, please.”

I look down at the short woman, her chocolate eyes sustaining mine and pleading for me to back off.

Remembering my daughter sitting outside this office and my son somewhere in this school, I sit back at my chair, not in any moment taking my eyes off the next name in my list sitting across from me.
Coulton Scott smiles at me, as if he had won. If he just knew.

“We can see clear as day from where those kids get their be…”.

“Mr. Coulton, please leave my office immediately”.

The shadow of a man looks up from his chair at the principal like he didn’t hear her right.

“What do you mean by…”.

“I let you stay here so we could discuss the matter of your son’s assault, but over and again you have abused my cordiality, so I ask you to leave my office and wait for my contact.”

Ms. Braga had her back at me, so I don’t know what kind of look she was giving, but something about it told Scumbag Scott to leave and so he did, followed by the principal until she was sure he had left for good.

She returned to her chair behind her desk and sighed longly before talking to me again.

“I’m sorry about this, Mr. Sokolov. Mr. Scott really insisted on being here and since Jason finds himself at the hospital, I couldn’t refuse”.

“I totally understand your situation Ms. Braga and thank you for not supporting his statements.” I say, getting slowly back to my normal self. “And about Agatha’s actions, please, let me talk to her and get a grasp of what could have happened for her to behave like this.”

“I encourage you and your husband to talk to her, since she won’t say a word to me, but I can’t let her go unpunished for her actions.”

“Again, totally understand, but I hope we aren’t talking about her being expelled.”

“It’s what Jason’s parents are asking the school to do, Mr. Sokolov, and her assaulting another student is indeed an attitude punishable by expulsion, or at least suspension plus community work promoted by the school”.

“My husband and I are encouragers of community work and we fully support her suspension, for whatever time you have in mind.”

Ms. Braga leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms under her chest, avoiding my gaze, deciding to read something from the papers scattered on her desk.

Whatever Agatha's motive was for attacking another student so harshly, I don't believe it's sufficient grounds for expulsion, especially given the possible homophobic speech that may have triggered it all.

“Agatha is a great student and I don’t want to expelled her as well, Mr. Sokolov, but if Mr. Scott keeps pressuring us, I don't know what I can do.”

“Give me one day.” I pleaded with her. “By tomorrow, if the Scott’s decide they want my daughter out, so be it.”

“I wouldn't put Agatha’s future in the hands of Coulton Scott.”

I put on my best neutral expression so as not to give away what's really going to happen between now and then with that son of a bitch Coulton Scott.

His future is in my hands, not the other way around.

“Ok, Mr. Sokolov, you have until tomorrow.” Ms. Braga finally says, signing up some paperwork and then giving it to me. “Until then, Agatha is suspended for a fortnight and upon her return, we’ll discuss her community work.”

“Thank you Ms. Braga, you have my word, something like that won’t happen again with any of my kids.”

We soon finish the final arrangements and I’m free to go have a talk with my daughter.

When I reach her she’s still on the bench I last saw her, but this time she’s not alone and, to no one's surprise, Sebastian is sitting by her side, talking amicably about something I can’t understand, while she looks frozen like a rock, but at least smiling a bit.

Brandon and Cecily convinced Jer and me to put our kids at the same school so they could be together and have the same activities and scholar events.

Seeing Bash and Agatha together like this, supporting each other somehow, showed we made the right call after all.

“Uncle Niko, hi.” Bash said after spotting me standing in the hallway.

“Hey Bash, shouldn't you be in class?”

“I should,” he replies immediately, smiling brightly. “but I thought Gats could use some company.”

Sebastian Knight Volkov looked just like Jeremy, the same gray eyes, brown hair and tall for his age, but he was a more cheerful, warm and innocent kid than his father, always taking care of others like his mother.

“Thank you, buddy.” I reply smiling at him. “Hey, I had an idea, why don’t you fetch your brother and Edgar so we can go get some ice cream?”

“Really?”

“Go, I’ll wait for you outside, my car is right up front”.

With a last look at Agatha, Sebastian stood up and ran after his brother, leaving me alone with my daughter, who didn’t look back at me once since I left the principal’s office.

“Come on, monster, walk with me.” I say, turning around to leave the building.

Agatha followed me all the way without saying a single word and when we reached the car, I motioned for her to get into the passenger seat next to me.

“So… Do you have something to say to me?”

Agatha turned her body in my direction, her head held high, looking straight up at me. She was trying to look tough, but her freckles weren’t helping her case, turning her too adorable.

She looked alot like me, with blue eyes, dark brown hair and thick eyebrows. It was like looking at the mirror sometimes, but seeing a feminine version of myself looking back at me.

“I’m sorry I knocked Jason to the ground and sent him to the hospital, but I’m not sorry for defending my family”.

I held my smile inside the best I could, so I didn’t ruin my parent mode, but it was hard. I wanted to kiss the kid badly.

“But why did you do it, Gats? You have never beat another kid before.”

That was the first moment she looked away from me.

Even without knowing for sure what that boy had said to her, but already imagining it, given who his father is, I felt like hitting him myself for making her act so unusually towards me, her father.

“You can tell me, baby, you know that, right?”

“I don’t… I don’t want you or papa to feel bad.”

“We would never, ever, feel bad for anything someone had to say about us. We only care about what you and Eddy think, so if you guys don’t hate us or are ashamed of us, nothing can hurt our feelings.”

“I would never be ashamed of you! Never, daddy!”

“And I love you for that, my monster.” I reply, reaching for her little hand. “Now, tell me, what happened?”

Agatha sighs, like the weight of the world was in her little shoulders.

“Jason has been saying to all school that… That Eddy is gay and sick like you and papa, and we should get expelled so we don’t give the other kids some disease.”

I have to remind myself that I’m holding my daughter’s hand so I don’t break it, so angry I am with what I hear.

I want to kill the kid, but who's fault is it that at only ten he is spreading such nasty things around?

Coulton Scott, he was the one to blame and to be killed, not Jason. The kid, hopefully, still had a chance to turn up to be some sort of decent man one day.

“So… I went to talk to him, just ask for him to stop, but he said I… He said I was sick too and that…”

“What, my love?”

“He said he should ask his father to kill us all, so the world can be a better place.”

I’m about to take my phone and order the whole family to be chased down and killed by my men, when Agatha’s continue.

“That’s when I punched him in the nose and knocked him down to the floor.” She says, her eyes meeting mine, looking for any sign of disappointment, but when she doesn't find it, she proceeds. “I told him to never threaten my family ever again or I would kill him and ask him if he understood… When he didn't answer, that was when I broke his ribs, but unintentionally, I swear.”

Going against all the books on child-rearing and conscious parenting, I pulled my daughter into my arms, holding her in a tight hug, close to suffocation.

In part I couldn't have been prouder of her for having acted in the face of such a fucked-up situation, where she and her family were being threatened, but in another part I was terribly saddened that she, at such a young age, was already having to face demons that were not meant for her - and not for anyone else, because no one should have to go through situations like this - but for me and my husband, who had made the decision to follow our hearts.

“Look, I love you and I'm glad you confronted someone who's an idiot and a homophobe in the name of your family, but next time, come to me, okay? I can help you whenever you come to me, but if you decide to do things on your own, the consequences could bite you in the ass.”

“So... You're not mad?”

I look down and find her watering blue eyes looking at me.

“Oh, my little monster, I'm enraged, but not at you.”

“Sorry, daddy, the idea of you being angry with me almost made me throw up.”

“Come here, my girl.” I pull her to my arms, holding her for the longest time. “I love you, forever, okay?”

“Promise?” she says, giving me her pinky.

“Promise.” I say, taking it with mine.

Not long afterwards, the rest of the children find us and the five of us go to the ice-cream parlor, where I talk to them about how it's not nice to hit their classmates, even if they do terrible things, and that they should always look for me or Jeremy when this happens.

Having done my duty as a responsible adult, while the children finished their ice cream and chatted about cartoons, I exchanged a few messages until I found out everything I needed to about Coulton Scott and his family.

For a second I thought about asking for his head or ripping it off myself, but looking at the children in front of me and knowing that I had to go home to the love of my life, I decided that I didn't want to waste my family's time with someone like Coulton.

Of course I'd ask my men to catch him and give him a scare, as well as blackmail him - thank you Jer for your endless intel - into not asking for Agatha's expulsion from school, but all without getting my hands dirty or wasting time with those I love.

By the end of the day, everything had been resolved and I couldn't have been prouder of the family I had built with the love of my life.

If days like this are the most challenging as a father, I'm more than ready. Let them come.

Chapter Text

When I met Nikolai I knew he was a mafia prince and when I fell in love and we eventually got married I had a full understanding of what his future would be and, consequently, my future and that of the family we would build together. 

But I never thought I would have to protect our children from snipers at an old man's birthday party.

It all happened on the birthday of one of Bratva's former members, Damien Orlov, at his home where all the other members and ex-members gathered with their families for a lavish dinner.

At the same time as I felt nervous about being in the middle of a world I don't belong to and understand very little, I felt quite safe since my in-laws were there and so many other familiar faces as well, such as Cecily, Jeremy and Maya, even though the latter was less keen than me to attend and was only at this dinner to accompany her husband.

After dinner, the children gathered in Damien's wife's library while the adults socialized and shared stories from the past, as well as planning for the future of the organization.

After a while of socializing myself, especially following Nikolai and Kyle around the various groups that had formed, I decided to check if the children were behaving themselves.

Of course, fifteen- to sixteen-year-olds are no longer considered children, but I don't want to think about that now, thank you very much.

Agatha and Sebastian were at one of the library tables playing cards, while Edgard and Maksim were sitting in armchairs next to each other with identical books on their laps and they were chatting animatedly, as if they were having a little book club of their own.

Kira and Maya's children didn't attend the party, as they were at their boarding schools in London, about to do their mid-year exams.

“Who's winning?” I asked, approaching my daughter and resting my chin on her head, trying to identify which card game they were playing.

“Poker, and Bash is losing.” Agatha replies, a Straight Flush almost forming in her hand.

“If you say so.” Sebastian retorts, his gaze indecipherable and his poker face on point.

“I've never been good with cards, but I think you have nothing to worry about, Bash.” I joke, winking at Agatha before letting her go and heading towards the book club.

However, I never really make a move towards them when, out of sudden I hear the first shot echoing in the air, its sound is so loud, echoing even with the music playing outside. 

For a second I don't react, my body paralyzed towards the door, waiting to make sure I've heard things right. 

The next second, a hail of gunfire starts outside and I have to take action I am absolutely not equipped for.

“Bash, turn the table! Everyone gets behind it now!” I shout as I run to the door to lock it.

As I lock the door, I think of Nikolai and my heart sinks to the bottom of my stomach, nausea filling me up straight to my mouth and leaving a bitter taste on my tongue. I want to leave and go after him, lock the children in the library and find my husband amid the blasting of shots to make sure he's safe, that nothing will happen to him, but logically I know that this is the worst choice I could make, for him, for me and for the children.

Logically, I know that by being inside I'm not only making sure the children are safe, but I also don’t end up getting in the way of what they're doing outside, being one less thing to worry about.

But making that choice was hard. Bloody fucking hard.

As well as locking the door, I push over a small table and an armchair to further block the passage. After I make sure everything is secure I run behind the table with the children. 

“Is everyone all right?” I ask, making sure everyone is crouched down and protected.

The gunshots continue outside, the sound reminding me of a thunderstorm, stopping only for a few moments before they start all over again with the screams echoing muffled, not allowing them to be discerned and identified.

You better not hurt yourself Nikolai or I’ll fucking kill you myself.

“My mother,” Sebatian whispers, his gray eyes looking at me questioningly, “did you see where she was before the shooting?”

“I'm sure she's fine.” Agatha says before I can say anything, taking Sebastian's hand and entwining it with hers. “Isn't she, papa?”

I nod, trying to remember everyone's last location before leaving the main hall, but feeling the adrenaline consume every logical thought and scramble my memories in the process.

“The shooting has stopped.” Maksim whispers after what feels like eternity, his green eyes scanning the room towards the door.

He tries to get up, but I stop him, holding his shoulder down.

“Stay here and I'll check. There's no way I want any of you out of here, are we understood?”

Everyone nods and I stand up slowly, walking steadily towards the door, trying to listen for any sound that might be coming from the world beyond the door in front of me, but I can't hear anything.

I look back and find eight pairs of eyes watching me from behind the desk, waiting for something, just like me.

With my hands I indicate that I'm going to move the furniture in front of the door and take a look. As the eldest, I indicate that Sebastian keeps an eye on the others and he nods, silently shifting his position, putting everyone behind him, to the total displeasure of his younger brother, who is broader and almost as tall as him.

When I finished moving the furniture as silently as I could and put my hand on the key to unlock the door, I heard footsteps approaching from the outside followed by the handle turning slowly.

I don't think anyone in that bloody library could breathe as the handle turned and turned as someone outside tried to open the door to get inside. 

“Children?” Jeremy says unexpectedly from the other side of the door. His voice is hard and loud, even though he's just barely speaking at all.

“Dad?” Sebastian replies from behind the desk, his voice no louder than a whisper.

“Jeremy?” I ask, indicating with my hand for the children to wait, since we don't know if Jeremy is alone or not.

“It's okay Brandon, you can open it.”

Breathing a sigh of relief I unlock the door and Jeremy enters the library swiftly, closing it behind him too fast to be good. The relief I felt seconds before turns back into anxiety and nausea as I look at him.

“What happened?” I ask, my eyes scanning Jeremy's bloodstained clothes and dark eyes. 

“Most of it's not mine.” He replies and I can see fresh blood coming from his left arm, but it looks like it's a graze so I don’t point it out to not scare the kids further. 

The kids in question emerge from behind the table and come closer to where Jeremy and I are standing. Maksim scans his father just like I did, but his expression remains serious, too serious for a fifteen-year-old. Sebastian, for his part, pales at the sight of his bloodied father and approaches him, not seeming to know what to do with his hands.

Aware of the fear in his son's eyes, Jeremy pulls him into a hug and, even though his left arm is probably hurting, he tells Maksim to join them.

Jeremy seemed extremely calm and controlled when he entered the library, but his eyes were pure rage and darkness. Now, with his children in his arms, a peace seemed to take over his entire aura, somewhat calming his demons out. 

“Jer...” I say quietly, not wanting to break his moment with his children, but wondering why we're still inside the library and questioning where Nikolai, Cecily and the others where.

“Everyone's fine, but we've had some losses in terms of our security people.” My heart seems to start beating again and I feel Edgar and Agatha each take one of my hands. “You’ll wait here until we get the bodies out and secure the place”.

“I want to see my dad.” Agatha says, squeezing my right hand tightly. “I don't want to stay here, I want to go home with my parents.”

Jeremy looks at me and I nod, confirming that this is what I want too. All I want most right now is to see Nikolai, to make sure he's okay and that my family is safe. All of us, together.

“I'll bring Cecily and Nikolai here to talk to you and, in the meantime, I'll ask for you to be transported as soon as possible, through a back passage, but you’ll have to wait a while as I work everything out, okay?”

“We're not going back home, are we?” Maksim states.

“I think it's best not to risk it now.” Jeremy replies firmly. “Until we identify who attacked us and take care of it, the families of everyone here tonight will be relocated provisionally.”

I know better than to argue with Jeremy as he leaves and I simply agree, pulling Agatha and Edgar closer to me, trying my best to calm them down while we wait together for Nikolai to arrive.

“It's going to be okay, dad will be here in just a second and we’ll figure everything out.” I say, and not just to my children, but also to Sebastian and Maksim.

“How long will we have to stay under the radar?” Edgar asks.

“Probably a few days, no more than a week, don't worry.” I say with all my conviction. 

And ladies and gentlemen, I couldn't be more wrong about it.

_______________________

22 days later

Alton, Illinois

As it turns out, what was supposed to be less than a week has now become almost a month and in addition to my children, Cecily and her children, I'm also stuck at the Alton mansion with none other than Landon, Mia and their daughter, Art.

Mind you, it's June and I don't normally have to deal with so many families together until mid-December. 

The only reason Maya wasn't with us was due to her wanting to be secluded close to her kids, so she was located somewhere in England, God knows where exactly.

It's a good thing we're not at full capacity, or I'd lose my mind and go full mental.

In addition to all the drama of being away from my home, having the children spend their summer vacation while trapped inside and needing to finish my latest works for an exhibition less than two months away, I still have to deal with all this alone, without Nikolai to give me the emotional support I so desperately need.

Apart, of course, from the fact that my anxiety almost consumes me every night as I imagine that something terrible might happen to the love of my life while this witch hunt seems to have no end.

To help with all this anxiety, I cook. Every meal I'm there to distract my restless mind as much as possible and, most of the time, I have my sous chef by my side. 

“I'm finishing the asparagus, so if you want some help with the mustard sauce...” - Sebastian says, checking the asparagus in the pan with butter and garlic, which is already lightly browned and smells wonderful.

“I'm almost finished here too.” I reply, checking the beef Wellington in the oven. “Are you sure you'd rather stay here in this hot kitchen with me than enjoy what’s left of your summer vacation with the other kids?”.

Sebastian turns and gives me genuinely wide smile, his gray eyes sparkling.

“That's me enjoying my summer vacation. I could cook all day long, every single day”. He says taking the asparagus from the pan to a clean plate. “This is the definition of a perfect day for me honestly”.

“Then you should think about culinary school.” I say, remembering all the dishes and full meals he's helped me with since we got here and, to be honest, since forever. Sebastian has shown an interest in cooking as a child and helped me whenever he could growing up.

My own little helper, just like me a lifetime back with my father.

“Do you think so?”

“Sure, why not?” I ask, shrugging “You have the privilege that many don't have of being able to choose to be whatever you want, so you should choose something that makes you happy and honor that privilege.”

Sebastian looks as if he's about to reply to what I've just said, but he's interrupted by Edgar, Agatha, Art and Maksim, all wearing bathing suits, ready to go to the heated pool in the basement of the mansion.

“Bash, there's no escape this time, you're definitely going with us!” Edgar says, leaning on the kitchen island between the asparagus and Sebastian, determination in his dark blue eyes.

“We haven't finished yet and I have to help your dad with the beef...”

“I bet everything is almost ready and he can lend us you for an hour before dinner, right Pops?” Edgar interrupts him with his manipulative smile, so similar to that of my twin brother, Landon.

It's no secret that Agatha is the female version of Nikolai, with the same blue eyes, shoulder-length dark brown hair and shapely body. Even in terms of height, she had taken after her father, being quite tall for a girl of her age.

But Edgar? Edgar was mine and, consequently, a bit of Landon too, with our dark blue eyes, brown hair and long eyelashes. 

Sometimes it's hard not to see Landon in Edgar, both physically and personality-wise. Thank God Eddy is nowhere near as chaotic as his uncle, but he's certainly popular among his peers, easier to get along with and more ambitious than me.

In other words, a 15-year-old version of me and Landon combined.

What could possibly go wrong with that combination?

“Please Bash, just a little?”

Agatha crosses the kitchen island and hugs Sebastian's arm, leaning her body against his and resting her head on his shoulder, her lips in a pout and eyes blinking slowly.

“I think papa can finish dinner alone just this once, don't you think?” She adds intertwining her hands to his and pulling him closer to her, towards the others.

I clean my hands on a cloth and look at Sebastian, noticing that the kid is suddenly red. 

It's discreet and I only notice it because I'm suddenly paying close attention, but it's there, high up on the cheeks and in the bridge of his nose.

“You can go if you want Bash, you already helped me enough today.” I say with a reassuring smile.

“If you say so…” He replies, his eyes never reaching mine.

I try not to notice Sebastian's sudden change in behavior with Agatha’s touching, and I realize that the others don't seem to pick what's happening right in front of their eyes.

But I understand, since anyone seems to notice what's going on between Maksim and Art either, for years now, long before her transition began.

Anyway, I promised myself I wouldn't get involved in the kids relationship with eachother, unless they were about to kill one another or something. If they're just having healthy crushes on each other, I could live with that.

Although if Agatha suddenly decided to match Sebastian's interest, we'd have to reedo the talk about safe sex and perhaps look for a contraceptive method…

What the hell am I thinking? It's not like they're going to start having sex out of the blue. Isn't it?

And before I can finish my thought process, they're gone, all enjoying a late afternoon by the pool before dinner.

After dinner itself, after the children have gathered to clear the table and take care of the dishes, everyone scatters around the mansion with their own chores.

Cecily goes to her room to finish the article she's going to publish soon.

Mia goes with Landon to the annex which he and I have turned into a makeshift studio. While she gets on with her work and answers emails, Landon takes the opportunity to work on his newest sculpture, using her as his muse, of course.

The children scatter to their rooms while I retreat to my own, in order to get some rest by watching Le Coffret de Laque one more time before probably sexting with Nikolai before bed.

Have I mentioned that I absolutely hate sexting? 

At the beginning of the movie, Edgar enters my room wearing his pajamas and with wet hair after his night shower.

“Le Coffret de Laque?” he asks, lying down next to me on the huge king size bed.

“I'm a man of simple tastes.” I reply simply.

No more than five minutes later Agatha and Art appear in the room too, deciding to stay for the movie. Where Art is, soon Maksim will be too, followed by Sebastian, so before long I'm sipping tea in my armchair while five teenagers are sprawled on my bed.

I’m getting old, so before I see I’m taking a nap and when I finally wake up it’s already past one a.m. and the kids are all sleeping in my bed, while I’m all contorted, my neck already killing me.

I get up, determined to drink some water and sleep in Edgar's bed for the rest of the night, when I hear two sounds, one apparently coming from the attic and the other from the kitchen. 

Deciding to go to the less frightening place, I slowly make my way to the kitchen, prepared to attack anything that might be invading the house, but certain that it's nothing but some piece of furniture creaking for no reason in the early hours of the morning.

Then I'm surprised by the best sight I've seen in twenty-three days: my husband.

Nikolai is finally back and for a second it's as if I had my head under water and suddenly I could breathe again, as if my heart had been stopped in time, pending the presence of the one who makes it beat every day and now it can work back again.

“Baby, you’re awake.” Nikolai whispers as he sees me. 

I go up to him and kiss his lips, a kiss that is by far elegant or eloquent, but full of longing and desperation, as if I had to kiss him to go on living another day.

I don't know exactly how long we kiss for, but I do know that when I finally release his lips we're both breathless and Nikolai's hair is free of its elastic, completely tangled in my fingers.

“I missed you too, lotus flower. You have no idea how much.” Nikolai says, leaning his forehead against mine. “I know I keep promising to you and the kids that it won't happen again, that I won't go another day without you guys, but this time it's a necessity, I need to stay glued to you for a very long time.”

“Have you managed to find the person responsible for the shooting?” I ask, suddenly holding my breath, waiting for his answer.

“I took care of them myself earlier today.”

“So... are we going home?”

“We're going home, baby.”

I kiss him again, and again and again.

Little did Nikolai know that, the moment our bodies met tonight, I was already home.

Chapter Text

I once read an extremely questionable book in which, in the prologue, the main character said: ‘ I've never given much thought to how I would die, but dying in the place of someone I love seems like a good way to go ’.

As I look at my imminent death with my own eyes, I can't help but agree with the character and feel at peace that I'm going to face my destiny and die in the place of those I love.

As horrible as this whole experience is, there's no way I'd swap places with my parents, Edgar or... 

Strange how in my final moments I also think of him and, of all the places that should hurt, my heart is the one that I feel breaking and crumbling into pieces the most, especially as I realize that this would not only be my end, but also the end of the story that we didn't even have the chance to build together.

And all because of me. 

Because of my inability to simply let go. To be me and make my own choices.

As I get more and more tired of fighting for air and to keep myself alive, I realize this might be the part where I start to see my life as a movie for my… What? Seven minutes left of brain activity? 

Is that enough to fit my eighteen years of life, especially the last seven months? 

I don’t get to think further on that matter, as the darkness of my unconsciousness consumes me, and at that I remember one last time those I love and see their faces one last time in my head.

With his gray eyes being the last thing on my mind, I slip away.

_______________

Seven months before

I'm wearing an olive-colored skirt made of delicate French satin with a high side slit that highlights my shapely legs and my silhouette. The skirt itself is adorned with a golden lining and it gives my body an elegant hourglass shape. 

With the skirt, I’m also wearing a satin corset with strategic slits under my breasts that perfectly emphasize my bust and which has a fabric reminiscent of an enchanted forest, as if coming straight out of a fairytale book.

If the corset and skirt weren't already to die for, the whole look comes with removable puffed sleeves that are tied with long ribbons at the top of the arms and made of the highest quality organza.

Looking at myself in the mirror with the final look, I couldn't have felt more like a goddess, an ethereal being, for my eighteenth birthday party.

What was missing? Heels, bloody fucking high heels.

What's wrong with heels? Simple. In all the preparation for the party I absolutely forgot that the heels Papa helped me choose are open toed, and I'm not the kind of girl who does her nails, especially her toes.

For the party and the party only I managed to put glue-on nails on my hands, not too big of course or I'd end up cutting someone's throat, or probably my own, but for my feet I needed professional help.

"You're lucky that I practiced a lot with your aunts and you when you were little". My Dad says, sitting on the floor of our living room, his back to me as he carefully applies black nail polish to my toenails.

I try not to laugh at the scene in front of me, but it's almost impossible as my dad is so delicately doing my toenails while at the same time I'm braiding his long hair, which I'm going to carefully tie into a bun on top of his head to complete his final look for the night.

The funny thing is that the man who paints my nails and has his hair braided is known to be one of the most feared leaders of the Russian mafia who, apart from his explosive and lethal temper being notorious on multiple continents, is also known to be a wall of muscle, even in his forties.

Outside his home Nikolai Sokolov can be terrifying and lead one of the most notorious mafia factions in the world, but inside his home, with his family, he's just Dad who, at the first call for help, does your toenails or brushes your hair and helps you with your make-up.

"I miss doing your make-up, but every Sunday we do our skin care for the week, so I guess it still counts, right?" I reply, finishing with the bobby pins to keep his bun in place for the whole night.

"How do you think at my age I still look in my late twenties?" he laughs and leans over to blow off the nail polish he's just applied. "There you go Cinderella, your feet are ready for the ball."

"And your hair is ready too."

"Oh, good, you're both ready..." Papa appears coming down the stairs as he's putting the finishing touches to his prince hair, as Dad usually calls it. "Edgar, ready for the photo, son?"

Every year since our first birthday we have taken a family photo. In the early years Papa coordinated everyone to pose for the photo, but after Edgar grew up and his interest in photography was born, he was the official family photographer, making sure that the exact lens, the best lighting and the right angle recorded this perfect King-Sokolov moment.

"Pops, you can put your left hand on Gats' shoulder, that's it... Gats, lift your chin a little... Dad, as always, eyes on the camera and not on Papa".

The pose has changed a little over the years, but for the last four it's been Edgard and me sitting on a stool with our parents behind us. A typical picture of a family with power and money. 

Two things we possess in abundance.

"Dad, I told you to look at the camera!" complained Edgar when we got to the first try, which always ends the same way, with Dad looking at Papa in a silly, romantic way that would make anyone vomit from an overdose of love and devotion.

"How can I do that when my lotus flower is so close, intoxicating me?" It's his only justification.

"Yes yes, you've loved each other and been in love for over twenty years, okay, we get it, now eyes to the camera or we'll be late!"

"Since when did you get so bossy?"

"Nikolai, just comply with our son, because if we're late I swear tonight I’ll not give you...."

After a few words whispered in Dad's ear he was more than eager to cooperate and the photo, as always, turned out magnificent, on our fourth try.

Looking at the picture in my brother’s camera I can’t hide the pride in my chest.

Papa is a world-renowned artist, with his works spread across several galleries and many of them award-winning, admired and bought for a few hundred dollars each.

Dad is the leader of one of the best known and most feared mafia factions in the world, personally feared by his rivals and extremely respected by his colleagues and subordinates.

Edgard, despite his short age, already shows an extraordinary talent for photography, having won a number of awards for his pictures. My brother simply has the gift of capturing the essence of nature and people that I've never seen before.

And me? 

Well, I'm good at watching from the sidelines and following their successes, giving them my unconditional support, love and encouragement.

I'm practically a professional cheerleader. 

But to be honest, beyond that, I absolutely don't know who I am.

My stomach starts to ache at this line of thought and I feel like throwing up. 

Trying not to think about it, especially as it's my birthday, I concentrate on escorting my family to the car and distract myself with the conversation that follows, which is so light and simple, just like our family.

The party itself took place at 230 Fifth Rooftop Bar, on Broadway between 26th and 27th streets, with family, friends and members of the Bratva as guests, as well as all the security that was out in force, almost two to three for each guest, located throughout the building, rooftop and surrounding street.

I've never been a party person, but I was very happy to be able to see all the people I love together in one place.

We are not a small group, so I was impressed.

"Just to warn you, the round of speeches is about to start, so if you want to get away, now's the time." Edgard informed me a few hours after we arrived.

"Look for me when the torture is over."

With a nod from him I discreetly withdraw from the circle of people I was animatedly chatting to, giving the excuse of going to the toilet, but in reality I just go to a more secluded area of the rooftop, near the edge so I can admire the view of the buildings and their lights until the speeches are over.

It's not that I hate the words my family and friends are going to say, I know they'll be the most beautiful and loving speeches possible, but the idea of me being one of the people under the spotlight immediately makes the back of my neck itch with anxiety and my stomach lurch.

My twin brother, knowing this, saved me from a moment of torment and I am eternally grateful to him for that.

"Happy birthday, Gats.”

A smile escapes my lips, going from one side of my face to the other, as I hear the voice of one of my best friends coming from behind me.

"Bash! I didn't think you'd make it." I turn and see his tall figure just a few steps away from me.

"I wouldn't miss your birthday for anything." he replies, returning the smile. “Sorry I’m late.”

I can't say for sure, but at some point when we were teenagers, Sebastian Volkov stopped being a tall, slender and somewhat awkward boy and became a man, still tall, but now strong and muscular, with a set jaw and an intriguing gaze.

In short, Sebatian Volkov was once a handsome boy. Now? He was simply one of the most handsome and attractive men I had ever seen in my life.

Could I think of Bash like that? Find him attractive? 

I don't know, but for a while now I've accepted that fact and lived with it, even though I knew I could never do anything about it or let him know that I thought of him that way.

"You look beautiful." He says, his voice deep and rusky.

Even his voice had matured and now sounded perfect for one of the audiobooks that my friend Nancy, from high school, loved to listen to.

"Thanks, you too, wow, you're... really neat." I dumbly replied.

Instantly I wanted to punch and knock myself out so I wouldn't wake up for another week.

When it became hard to think around Sebastian?

"I meant you look nice... That suit looks great."

Sebastian is wearing an all black suit, pants, shirt and shoes that contrast perfectly with his white, almost pale skin and gray eyes.

"Thank you." He smiles back, one of his dimples discreetly appearing. 

"Did Avery come with you?" I ask, discreetly looking for her somewhere in the party behind him.

"No, not really," he replies, massaging the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. "Well, she and I broke up, so..."

"I'm sorry."

"Don’t worry"

"Do you want me to go and teach her a lesson? I'll do a quick and clean job." I say and he immediately smiles, his bright white smile more beautiful than all the New York lights behind me.

"I brought you a present." He says after a few moments in silence, his eyes fixed on mine. "It's nothing much, but... Anyway, I hope you like it."

Sebastian hands me the bag that was in his hand and I immediately open it, intrigued by what it might be, given that for his birthday a few months ago, I gave him a set of professional knives straight from Japan.

Inside the bag were three books, all by Agatha Christie and, upon closer inspection, I realized that they were all first editions and all in excellent condition.

"How..."

"That year we were quarantined at the mansion in Alton, you commented that one day you wanted to have all the first editions of Agatha Christie, since you were named after her... I've managed to find these three since then."

I carefully put the books back in the bag and placed them gently on the floor, so that I wouldn't accidentally damage them or anything, and as soon as they were safe I turned to Sebastian and jumped into his arms, wrapping mine around the back of his neck and burying my face in his shoulder.

"Thank you... This is the best present I've ever gotten."

Bash wrapped his arms around my waist, lifting me slightly as he also hugged me tightly, his face in my loose hair.

As soon as I released him I felt something in my chest that I had never felt before, very similar to my anxiety attacks, but at the same time very, very different.

"I hope Edgar also likes the first two editions I found of Edgar Allan Poe." Bash comments, rubbing the back of his neck and giving me a half-smile. "He never said anything, unlike you, but I thought it would be nice too."

"If he doesn't want it, I'll definitely steal it from him." I say, unable to hide my smile.

Sebastian opens his mouth to say something else when a figure appears beside him, her long blond hair, blue eyes and presence unmistakable.

"What kind of nefarious plan are we hatching here, hidden away from the party?" Art asks.

"It's nothing really." Sebastian replies quickly, taking a step back. "I was actually going to meet my dad, so I'll see you at the party..."

With a nod to both of us, Sebastian turns back to where the speeches still seem to be going on. I don't realize I'm staring at him until Art clears her throat and snaps me out of my trance.

"From a distance you two look like the embodiment of Hades and Persephone." She says with a smile as she takes a sip of her drink. "How can you be so ridiculously beautiful like that? Especially together. It should be a crime"

"Says the family supermodel." I reply, reminding her of her career as an editorial model, most recently appearing on the cover of Teen Vogue last summer at only sixteen.

"I'm pretty for photos, dear cousin... You two? It's an etheric beauty, written in the stars and envied by the gods."

I roll my eyes theatrically at all the drama my cousin manages to bring to such a mundane situation, but at the same time I agree with her, at least when it comes to Sebastian, whose beauty really does seem otherworldly.

"Running away from someone, Art?" I ask after a moment of silence. 

"I've never run away from anyone and I won't start now." She replies, raising her glass in the air. 

We both laugh together and stare at the lights of the buildings in front of us, lost in our own thoughts. My mind more precisely lost in the gift I'd just received which, to anyone else, might seem simple, but which meant so much to me.

And Sebastian remembered that, even after years.

My heart starts beating harder and my nausea returns, but again not linked to my anxiety, but to something different that I can't quite describe.

Trying to stabilize myself again, I sigh, my eyes still watching the horizon of buildings and lights.

"Us and the Volkov boys, right?" Art says, also sighing.

I think about saying something to deny her statement, but I can't for some reason, as if the words don't want to leave my lips, so with a half-smile I just meet her eyes and nod.

On my eighteenth birthday, something changed about Sebastian Volkov and I wasn't ready for what that meant.

Chapter Text

The water in the shower is soothing and helps to relax my muscles after the muay thai workout I always do in the morning as soon as I wake up. The shower would be perfect if it weren't for the hassle of having to wash my hair.

Ever since I was fourteen, my dream has been to have my hair cut short, maybe a long bob or even something shorter, but every time I've plucked up the courage to plan such a radical change for myself, my papa’s voice has been in my ear.

" You're a copy of your father, even the hair I love so much you have exactly the same ."

If it was exactly the same I'd at least leave it a little shorter, but every year that I haven't done what I wanted and cut my hair all at once I end up leaving it a few inches longer, to the point where I can barely keep it manageable.

The thought of getting rid of something that bothers me but that papa loves so much just turns my stomach inside out.

My life is basically about making everyone around me happy. Everyone around me except myself.

After an eternity of blow-drying my hair, I put on fresh clothes in order to enjoy New York's spring, which is particularly warm this year. I decide on a long, plain black skirt, a white baby tee and Birkin slippers, all very basic since I have no idea what I have in store for the day.

Now that I no longer have to go to school and only have to prepare for college in a few months, I wake up and let Edgar or my parents decide the day's itinerary. The only rules are that I don't miss my morning muay thai workout and that I go to family dinner on Fridays, where we all eat together without exception and watch a film - preferably a classic based on the Agatha Christie books. Otherwise, I just follow in the shadow of my family.

I leave my room and head downstairs towards the kitchen, my ear keenly attuned to the morning movement in the house in order to identify whether or not it's safe to enter any room unannounced.

If I counted on my fingers how many incidents I've almost witnessed in this house, I'd have to double my appointments with my therapist.

But even though I have very well-trained ears, I still end up on this fine morning coming across the magnificent sight of my papa eating my dad's face in an intense and graphic kiss, while the latter is sitting on the kitchen counter and has his legs wrapped around his husband's waist.

When one of them threatens to moan, I clear my throat as loud as I can, indicating that I am, in fact, in the same room as them.

"Darling... I thought you were still getting ready." Papa says, almost jumping up, but taking his time to free himself from Dad's arms and legs.

"Good morning lovebirds..." I say, trying not to grimace and reveal my prude nature. 

"Gats, a great morning to you too," my dad replies, laughing and at no point looking embarrassed at having been caught having his lips eaten off at eight o'clock on a Wednesday morning.

The three of us are soon at the coffee table, which is always full thanks to Papa who, after his morning runs, always makes a point of preparing only the best breakfast to start the day as a family before each of us moves on with our days.

Papa always has a different kind of tea in the morning accompanied by scrambled eggs or toast. Dad always has something sweet to calm down the sugar monster that lives inside him. This morning, apparently, the mission is in the hands of the macarons that Papa always has hidden somewhere in his private stash. Edgar usually doesn't eat anything, preferring a black coffee or tea. I'm on the tea team, but always black, and I like to mix the two worlds, eating bacon and eggs whenever I can, but with some sweet fruit to round off my favourite meal of the day.

Just as I'm about to munch on a generous piece of bacon, I realise that only the three of us have our plates and drinks on the table, while Edgar's usual place is empty.

I look around, trying to identify if anyone else apart from me can see that the usual scenario is totally wrong, but Papa is sipping his tea while reading the news on his phone and Dad has his full attention on eating the macarons as quickly as possible, clearly trying to beat his personal record as he does every morning.

"Did Edgar sleep out?" I say, keeping my voice as calm as I can.

"He left so early today that we can assume he did," papa replies without taking his eyes off his phone.

"And where did he go?"

"Funny, you're in a good mood today, darling."

"Forgive me, but should I know where Edgar is or something?"

Papa looks at me astonished and at the same time angry, almost disappointed, and as his expression evolves, so does my anxiety.

I quickly hide my hands under the table, under my lap, and start pulling at my cuticles, which have already suffered from years of abuse, but I just can't help it. Either I rip my cuticles off to the point of bleeding or I throw up in the middle of the table.

Sorry cuticles, but hang on, vomit's not on the menu today.

"I told you he was leaving without telling her," my dad says, getting up from the table and putting his plate in the dishwasher. “I’m gonna kick that kid's ass when I see him again. Maybe his flight has been delayed and I can still drag him home.”

I want to ask what's going on, but I can't, my voice is stuck in my throat as I can only plead for answers with my eyes.

"Your brother informed us a few weeks ago that he was going to take a gap year before college and 'backpack' around Asia in order to boost his portfolio." Papa finally tell me what's going on. "He told us he'd talk to you in person before he left and explain everything, but apparently not..."

Being Agatha King Sokolov I was brought up in a bubble, a sophisticated bubble, full of privileges and perks that I can't particularly complain about, but still a bubble and I always felt that it was especially small, as if my world was the size of my house, nothing more.

But at this very moment the world was even smaller, so small, so cramped and claustrophobic that I couldn't breathe, as if there was no oxygen at all, so small was the world at that moment.

Since I was ten years old I had promised myself that I would always have my parents or Edgar with me, but apparently I had forgotten to tell my twin brother that I needed him with me to function.

But how do you tell your other half that you're so fucked up mentally that you need 24/7 supervision?

I'm the broken, defective twin, not him. I'm doomed to failure or a mediocre life in the corner with the other toys with some missing part. Edgar? He deserves exactly what he was looking for at that moment: the world. Who am I to get in the way and delay his life even more?

“Agatha, darling, look at me.” Papa says, lightly touching my cheek and brushing my hair out of my eyes. "I'll have a word with your brother, okay? He shouldn't have kept this from you."

Still unable to return to normal, I nod, my eyes returning to my untouched breakfast. The smell of bacon alone could put me off eating for days.

"College..." I manage to whisper after a while of silence where the only sound was both my parents typing fiercely on their phones, probably texting my twin brother some nasty words.

"Ah, don't worry about it, you can still carry on with your plans as normal." Dad says, putting his phone back in his pocket and coming up behind me, resting his hands on my tense shoulders.

"Yes, yes." Papa says, still typing furiously. "Your father and I will make sure you have everything in order to start college in a few months, don't worry."

"And... what if... what if I want a break too?" I manage to say, my voice low and shaky, but not shaky enough for my parents to notice. "A gap year for me too."

"You don't have to lose a year of your life to accommodate Eddy's wishes, Gats." Dad says, giving me an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder. 

"But what if I want a year to myself too? Then Edgar and I can start college together, as planned."

It wasn't at all how I'd expected my next few months to go, since I was sure that in less than two months I'd be starting college alongside my brother, but if he'd changed his plans without telling me, the most I could do was adapt, and quickly.

Both my parents are silent and, for a second, I wonder if I sound as desperate as I really am, if I show a fraction of the chaos in my head with the prospect of having to go to college, in another country, completely alone.

"I think it's fine, dear, if that's what you want," Papa says with an encouraging smile after a few moments, "but only do it if you really want to, because Edgar has put a lot of time planning this gap year and he won't be back until December, when he'll meet us to go to Alton together".

He's put a lot of time into planning to abandon me , I think with pain in my chest.

"Yeah, I think it'll be good for me to have that time," I say, forcing a smile, "to find myself and everything."

"You could help your dad at the volunteer centre." Dad says, heading towards where he leaves his car keys, getting ready to go to work.

"It's a great idea, they always need an extra pair of hands and, if you don't like it, I've got a million other ideas for you, don't you worry." Papa says smiling, his smile going from one side of his face to the other, clearly happy with the prospect, given that he's a great supporter of voluntary work.

"Sounds perfect!" I lie, not having the heart to say that it sounds like the worst idea in the world to me.

"It's a date. We can stop by in the afternoon today."

Not wanting to lie yet again, I nod and force my best smile while, under the table, my cuticles start to bleed.

____________________

The community centre Papa usually attends is on the Lower East Side. In general it's a beautiful place, well looked after and full of people, both volunteers and people being welcomed in all kinds of ways. However, what I swore would be just a visit so I could get to know the place turned out to be my first day as a volunteer.  While papa was approached by old acquaintances from the centre, Norma, the kind volunteer coordinator, as soon as she saw me, put me in the Volunteer Outreach group, a group that was getting ready to go out and about New Yok talk to the homeless people.

Basically the Outreach Team encounters many homeless individuals that are reluctant to use services or have found the available resources unmanageable and overwhelming and provides them with counseling, information and advocacy in pursuing services, rights and resources.

A beautiful and admirable job, but totally wrong for me.

Just the idea of having to talk to strangers while marching with a group of people, also strangers, through New York, made my world spin and I almost fainted right then and there.

So, as soon as the meeting was over and the group started to get ready to leave, I sneaked off anywhere but with them. The plan was quite simple: hide somewhere for a while and say that I'd lost my group when they left.

Looking for the best place to hide and literally die, I entered a random corridor, but of course that's where Norma was standing with her back to me, talking to two other volunteers. Before she could see me I entered the first door I saw and closed it behind me, keeping my ear to it, hoping to hear when she passed.

"Gats, is that you?"

I didn't need to turn around to know whose voice was speaking behind me, because I would recognise it anywhere in the whole world. The peace and goose bumps I felt when I heard it could only be caused by one person and one person only.

Turning around slowly, I find myself under the warm, deep and inquisitive gaze of none other than Sebastian Volkov.

For the first time on this chaotic day, I truly smile and suddenly my world no longer seems so small.

Chapter Text

I wake up and immediately reach under my pillow for my phone. As soon as I unlock it, I'm confronted with the last thing I saw before going to sleep: the IG profile of none other than Agatha Sokolov. She's the last thing on my mind before I go to sleep and my first thought when I wake up.

Could I somehow be more cliché? Actually, not cliché, but a needy, total obsessed loser.

Since I was fourteen to fifteen, I've been completely in love with my childhood best friend, the daughter of my father's best friend and 'business partner'. 

Recipe for disaster if you ask me.

But there's nothing I can do to change that and when I say I've been in love with her since I was a teenager I'm totally ignoring the fact that my obsession goes back to when we were kids. The only thing that changed when we grew up was that I finally found the name for the feeling in the pit of my stomach every time I saw her and for the way my heart raced every time she said my name or touched me, even in the most innocent way possible.

Love. Pathetic, incoherent, useless love.

Every morning I check Agatha's status and she always, almost without exception, posts a photo or video of herself training Muay Thai by this time of day. 

Today she graced her followers and her obsessed stalker with a short video of herself after a workout, sitting in front of the mirror, hair in a loose bun, rosy cheeks and sweat glistening from the neckline of her moss green top.

I confess that I spent longer than necessary on the video, contemplating the possibility of perhaps downloading it and storing it in some well-hidden file where it would never see sunlight again.

But even I have limits I wont cross, so I just close my cell phone and get ready for my day.

After a cold shower I quickly put on old jeans, a white T-shirt, light sneakers and a denim jacket and head to the dining room where I expect to find at least my mother still eating her breakfast, but when I get to the table she is clearly not alone as I expected.

At the Volkov family's large dining table I'm bombarded with the scene of my mother sitting on my father's lap where, at first glance, it appears to be a very innocent and romantic moment between the couple, but if you do, like me, and look to where their hands are, as well as being lucky enough to hear their whispers, you'll wish you hadn't woken up, just like me.

“Good morning, everyone,” I say, pretending to enter the room with my attention on my phone.

I sit down, still looking at my phone while pretending not to hear my mother laugh lowly as she gets off my father and goes to her own chair, both of them responding to my 'good morning' with a gasp.

“You took a while to come down, I thought you'd gone to the community center earlier,” says my mother, taking a sip of her coffee, her cheeks still rosy.

“I went to bed late last night, but I'll have a quick bite to eat and be on my way”. I reply, putting my phone back in my pocket and helping myself to some toast.

“Since Kenny decided to go on tour with his band, you've been overloaded, haven't you?”

“Yeah... Ross even said he'd stay for the lunch period to help me cover for Kenny, but I can manage just fine on my own for now with lunch and dinner.”

“Anyway, Norma has to look for more people...” my mother replies excitedly to me, winking. “In six months' time you'll be in Spain and Ross can't manage three shifts on his own, not like you anyway.”

I smile back at my mother, a little embarrassed by her display of maternal pride.

Ever since I was a child, my mother has always been my biggest cheerleader. Anything and everything that came into my head that I thought I could be or do, there she was encouraging me, telling me that I really could do it, even when it was clear that I couldn't.

With my mother's support I always believed I could do the impossible and, at least in her eyes, I always could.

“She's already got her eye on a few candidates and I'm going to help her select them before I move.”

My mother looks like she's about to answer me when my father, who previously had his attention on the phone in his hands, reading and typing things that were clearly more important than the conversation taking place in front of him, gets up from the table as he finishes his black coffee in a single gulp.

“ Lisichka , when you get through to Maksim, remind him about the dinner we're having tomorrow with Pakhan and the Four Kings, please.”

He goes over to where she is sitting and kisses the top of her head for a long moment, his hand caressing her neck in a very gentle and loving way.

“I'll see you in a moment, Lisichka .” My father says to my mother, straightening up and getting ready to leave. “Son.” He says with his back to us, his voice firm and almost authoritative, as if he were talking to one of his bodyguards and not his own son.

For a moment my mother and I sat in silence at the dining table, she not knowing what to say and me not wanting her to say anything.

“Love...”

“I'd better get going so I can let Ross go.” I say, getting up and giving my best smile to the woman I admire most in the world so she wont be worried with me. “I'll see you tonight, Mom.” 

I kiss the top of her head, just like my father, and leave the house as quickly as I can, greeting all the security guards and staff who work at the house on my way out.

During the drive to the community center, alone in my car, I wonder for the millionth time where my relationship with my father became what it is today. When did my father, the great Jeremy Volkov whom I had always admired, stopped being a fatherly partner and become a distant and unknown figure to me.

As usual, I didn't come up with any satisfactory answers, so when I arrived at the community center I chose to leave this sensitive topic aside and focus on doing what I love most: cooking.

Since I was sixteen, I've been coming to this community center whenever I can and helping out in the kitchen. As well as being able to help vulnerable people and give back as much as I can, I get to do what I do best, keeping my hands and mind busy on the way.

And so the day goes by like a blur. 

For the kitchen itself, there is a group of volunteers to serve people in the main hall and we have a few people who help with the cleaning, but in the kitchen with the main preparations there is only me at lunch and dinner times.

It's a tiring job, but one I wouldn't change, especially when I'm about to go to Spain to assist and apprentice one of the chefs I admire most in the world.

After lunch has been served and while the cleaning team is rushing around to get everything organized for the next service, I start with the preparations and mise en place for dinner, or at least I try to, because one moment everything is in the purest order and the next, none other than Agatha King Sokolov walks into my kitchen.

“Gats, is that you?” I say, astonished.

Agatha turned and smiled at me, a smile so beautiful, so natural, that it literally made my heart skip a beat.

“Oh, Bash, it's so good to see you.”

Before I could register it, she had her arms around me in a tight hug, squeezing the air out of my lungs. 

Does she have any idea how much her touch makes my whole body shiver? That the vanilla scent of her perfume is the only one I would recognize anywhere in the world?

When she lets go of me and takes a step back, I feel a cold emptiness in my arms and, not knowing what to do with my hands, I put them in the pockets of my jeans.

“I thought you'd be in Spain by now,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Dabiz asked for a few more months before taking me on as an apprentice.” 

Even though I had already announced to friends and family about my apprenticeship with the great Dabiz Muñoz at his restaurant in Madrid, the DiverXO, it still seemed very surreal that in about six months I would be living one of the greatest experiences of my life.

“And you're going to spend that period here.”

“Keeping me sharp until then, yes.” 

We both laughed at my horrible joke and I lost myself in Agatha's incredibly blue eyes, which seemed to read my soul and take my breath away.

“But what about you? Passing through?” I managed to ask, focusing my attention on her reliquary, the one she always wore and which had a photo of her parents and brother on one side and the other had remained empty since she had received it as a present from Art when she was sixteen.

Agatha snorted, clearly frustrated but trying not to show it.

“Apparently I'm going to be here for a while too...”

“But the semester in Brighton doesn't start in...”

“Yes, but my brother decided for both of us to take a gap year before going to college, so here I am.” 

Even when she smiled as she explained her apparent 'gap year', Agatha's displeasure was clear, but before I could question her further, the door behind her opened and her father entered the kitchen, which was looking increasingly small and crowded by the second.

“Oh, Sebastian, great to see you here, how are you?” Uncle Brandon says as he pulls me into a quick but warm hug.

“Uncle Brandon, yeah, very good to see you too!”.

“And Agatha, did Norma put you in the kitchen? Did you tell her you can't even fry an egg?”.

“Papa! I know how to fry an egg… Whether it's good is another story.” Agatha replied, giving her father a gentle push on the shoulder. “And no, Norma didn't put me in the kitchen, but I don't think I'll do well in the group she thought of for me.”

Before Uncle Brandon can respond to her comment I find myself speaking, my voice hurried and borderline desperate.

“We need help in the kitchen actually, if you want to stick around here.”

And once again I'm rewarded with a smile from Agatha, this one a little shy and small, but just as beautiful and overwhelming.

“I think that's a great idea.” She says almost relieved.

“Fine by me, that way I'm less worried about leaving you alone and I can focus on the last piece I'm doing for my exhibition in a few months' time.” Uncle Brandon replies, also smiling and pulling Agatha into a side hug. “I'll let Norma know, OK?” 

With a kiss on Agatha's forehead and a nod to me, Uncle Brandon prepares to leave the kitchen, but stops and turns back to us with the door ajar.

“Ah, Sebastian, why don't you have dinner at our place tonight when you're done here? I'll run home and get everything ready.”

“Sounds perfect, Uncle Brandon, thank you.”

“I'll see you both later then.”

‘Alone’ once again, apart from the people moving from one side of the kitchen to the other organizing the lunch clean-up, I smile at Agatha for no particular reason other than I'm happy to have her so close to me, especially after believing I'd only see her again in Alton for our pre-Christmas holiday.

“I think I'm all yours for the next few months then.” Agatha says, raising an eyebrow and smiling at me.

The idea of having her in the kitchen with me for the next few months initially seemed like a great plan to satiate my stalker tendencies and my platonic love towards her, but now, with her so close and knowing that this is only the beginning, I wonder if I'll survive the next few months.

Or worse, how I'll survive when those months inevitably end.