The devil to his angel

Chapter 2 (Levia pov)

A/n
Hey! So I'd like to say that rn the story seems a little boring but I'm just tryna help set up the characters and establish relationships anywhere enjoy chapter 2

NOT PROOF READ

It’d been around four weeks since Antoine had became my bodyguard I was already quickly adjusting to his mannerisms like how went hes angry he speaks french and how when he’s talking to my father his voice goes lower by at least one octave,

He also always wore full black suits, that were turned up just above his wrist, he wore a tight white shirt than always had the top button undone, his hair sat messily on weekends and monday mornings but sat perfectly the rest of the days.

He also wore a set of three silver rings, one sat on his index finger another his middle and the last his ring, i’d asked him on his second week if he was married and he said no and that was the end of that 

**Saturday **

It couldn’t have been later than half 8 when I slouched up, rubbing my eyes, I wished I could wake up like those girls in the movies but nope I wake up looking like i’d been in three street fights and lost every single one

I picked up my phone, weird my dad had called me, he usually didn’t text or call me unless it was really important, which caused my heart to jump, i literally jumped out of my bed and onto the cold wooden floor, I immediately regretted it, I brushed it off though, clutching my phone in my hand as I sprinted out my room, I couldn’t hear any noise from my fathers study so I turned towards the stairs, my pajama bottoms trailed on the ground a little and the grey bralette styled crop top I had on slipped down slightly, I held it up as I ran down the stairs, heading straight forward to the kitchen

“Father?” I called out sounding a lot like a posh purebred American, no response

“Dad?” No response

“Отец!? (father)” My hair looked even more wild now as I flung the kitchen door open, I pushed a fallen strand of black hair back behind my ear as I rounded into the dinning room

My heart hadn’t beaten this fast since the incident

“Отец!?” Still no response thats when I heard some chuckling behind me, I knew that low husky chuckle anywhere, I turned on my heel
“Antoine, where’s my Father? He called me at” I raised my phone to my face, clicking on the notification that read ‘Miss call from ‘помог мне родиться (helped me be born)’ at 8:00’

Antoine looked me up and down, his eyes resting on my exposed stomach “Uh” he was at a weird loss of words or so it seemed

“ANTOINE!” I practically yelled

“Calm Ms Petrov, Mr Petrov Sr, phone was taken by one of your brothers, they wanted to play a cruel prank on you, clearly knowing what your reaction would be” I could tell he was holding back a smirk, I groaned sinking down into the nearby seat, my head flopping onto the table

Then I remembered, I was going to be late

“Дерьмо (shit)” growing up my mother and father would only swear in russian so now i’ve developed the insanely annoying habit of swearing in russian when I think my father is near or can hear me

Antoine just shot me quick confused glance
“So Ms Petrov, where to first? The hair salon to fix that?” He made a quick joke, weird he’s only ever made one joke around me and that was on his third week

I rolled my eyes “No, I uh, I’ve got somewhere to go, meet me downstairs in thirty minutes” I smiled sweetly before dashing back upstairs, you see I had two close friends that happen to be the sons of my fathers worse enemy at the moment, all my bodyguards have been warned not to let me go near them, I’d learned about this when I was eighteen when I overheard a conversation between my father and my bodyguard at the time