Adrian

Adrian

I have no idea how I fell asleep, but I did it. I wake up the next morning, with someone pounding on my door loudly. And who the fuck is that bastard? I think to myself, a groan escaping my lips as I slowly get out of bed.

I'm still wearing my clothes from yesterday and seriously, I need a change of clothes.

“Who's it?” I ask groggily, opening the door to reveal the face of a man.

Huge, tall. Jet black hair with black eyes. He has that terrifying look that scares people. Too bad, he doesn't scare me.

“Who?”

“Follow me.” He utters instead and immediately turns to leave.

What the hell? Just that?

My brows furrow and I reluctantly begin to follow behind him.

“If you want to work here. You have to be punctual. No one sleeps till eight.” He points out, walking towards the direction of Nikolai's study.

“Where did the boss pick you from?” He pauses, turning to face me.

“Why don't you ask him that yourself?” I challenge, I hate his humor. Who does he even think he is?

“Look Adrian,” he begins, stepping close to stand in front of me. He's way taller than me and may be slightly taller than Nikolai.

“If we're going to be working together, I'll make this clear. I don't like you.” He says straight to my face and I remain unblinking. I don't like him either.

“I wonder why Nikolai brought you here.” He tsks, turning to walk away.

Who in the world wakes someone up in the morning, only to tell him that he does not like him?

I don't even know who the man is.

We arrive at Nikolai's door, he knocks briefly, before opening the door to walk in.

“He's here, boss.” He announces and my eye lands on Nikolai whose eyes are buried in his ipad.

“You can go, Ilya.” Ilya, he's the Ilya.

“Boss, are you sure about this?” Ilya asks, his eyes landing on me. I do not need to be told that he's referring to me.

“Yes.” Nikolai replies, dropping his ipad on the table.

“You can go.” He dismisses Ilya who gives me one hard look before walking out of the study.

“Morning pretty boy. Weren't you taught to greet your elders?” He asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he stands up to his feet.

“Good morning, Boss.” I greet, clearing my throat.

Patience. It's only for a short while. I mentally tell myself.

What's the magic number that makes him greeting-worthy? I can't help but think to myself.

“Good.” He smiles as he begins to walk up to me.

He stops in front of me, his eyes towering above me and he stares at me for the longest of time.

“You know-” He begins, but he's interrupted when the door suddenly opens as Ilya walks in. He's not alone. A woman is with him. She's aged, probably in her sixties.

“I’m sorry boss, she insisted on coming in.” Ilya apologizes the moment they walk in and the woman shoots a glare at him.

“Hush Ilya.” She then turns to face Nikolai and her face breaks into a wide smile.

“Koyla!” she calls, stretching her hands to hug him. Surprisingly Nikolai hugs her back before she pulls away.

“You’ve grown so much Koyla!” she exclaims, her eyes filled with astonishment.

“Don’t flatter me, Olga. I've only been away for six months.” He says in his defense.

“And you never bothered to call us. Not Nice Koyla.” she mumbles, playfully hitting his arm.

My brows squeeze as I stare between them. She does not look like his mother. She's probably too old to be his mother and they bear no form of resemblance to each other.

“Who’s he koyla?” She asks, finally acknowledging my presence.

“My new guard Adrian.” Nikolai replied as the old lady Olga fixes her eyes on me before saying.

“You don't just employ new guards and where did you pick this one from? He doesn't seem to be Russian. He looks suspicious.” she doesn't hide her distaste towards me. Great. Just Great.

“Hello, I'm here.” I smile, waving at her.

“And I'm Russian.” I add, I know I look more American and sound like one. I was raised there for over 10 years before I returned to Russia.

While my mother was Russian, my father was American. I moved to America when I was ten after my mother's death. Then lived there for another ten years. I came back to Russia when I was twenty. I've been living in Russia for six years now.

“How have you been? Olga? You look thinner. Have you been eating well?” Nikolai asks instead.

“I'm supposed to be asking you that. You and Ilya look so thin. And I can't believe you did not come to see me after coming back.” She frowns and I wonder where Nikolai had been.

“I arrived late at night. I wanted to come see you first thing this morning. Seems like you already beat me to it.” Nikolai chuckles, wrapping his arm around Olga’s shoulder.

“Come on Kolya. I made you breakfast.” She beams, looking so happy to see Nikolai of course.

“I have a meeting, Olga. I'm afraid I won't be able to stay for breakfast.” Nikolai politely refuses but the look on Olga's face says it all. She's not going to allow him to leave without breakfast.

“Don't turn me down. You too Ilya. You both are having breakfast.” She says to Ilya who holds a stoic look on his face. I swear to God, that man is always serious.

“Come on.” She practically drags Nikolai out of his study as Ilya and I follow behind them. I follow them downstairs and we stop at the dining table.

Irina is already there and she scowls the moment she sees Nikolai. Seated with her are two other people. My blood boils as my eyes land on the woman. Nikolai's mom. There's no way I'll ever forget those piercing gray eyes of the woman who took everything away from me.