Emotion || Bastian Schweinsteiger

/zwölf/

Zofía

Recap~
"Princess." The pepper haired man in front of me breathes out.

"Dad?!"
************
"You brought Nikolai?" I stress. "Jesus, dad, why?"

"Cause he has sky miles, so I can fly first class and not pay anything." He replies, smugly.

"Gosh, dad, you're such a WASP." I cannot help but roll my eyes.

"I'm not even white!" He speaks up, defensively. 
He isn't.  He was born to a Portuguese father and an American mother, but he was raised by his rich American grandparents, Joseph and Eliza Sternberg, my great-grandparents.

We were currently in my hotel room, which overlooks the beautiful city of Rome, sitting comfortably on the light sofas, catching up with one another.

"Sister dearest!" A voice rings, as Nikolai barges into my hotel room, clad in a pair of jeans and crewneck. 

"How'd you get in?" I question, not bothering to greet him, causing him to shoot a glare at me. 

"The door was open." He pauses to set his suit jacket down on one of the leather seats. "Hey to you too, sister who I haven't seen in a year, and does not bother to call."  

"You saw me three months ago." I let out, bluntly, getting up to show him some affection.

"I know you missed me, Zo." He reaches to embrace me, squeezing the life out of me.

A few moments later he pulls back, a firm grip on my shoulders, and smothers a kiss on both my cheeks.

"When in Italy, greet like the Italians!" He announces loudly, shaking me violently. 

I quickly push myself away from his grasp, as I wipe my cheeks in disgust, attempting to remove his slobber from my cheeks. 

"I don't understand how you're a respected Ivy League professor." 

"Stop being mean to your brother." Dad calls out.

"Okay, sure." I say sarcastically. "I gotta go meet someone, quickly. Stay here, don't snoop around or whatever, I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

"Oh Zo, takes every chance to not spend even a second with her dear family!" Nikolai exclaims, sarcastically. "What are you going to do?"He questions, as he makes himself comfortable on the two-seater. 

"Why are you so nosey?" I grumble.

"Why are you so nosey?" He mimicks me, pouring Dad and himself some vino.

"It's something with a fellow doctor, just a few things to discuss."

I quickly snatch my phone and room card from the coffee table and exit, before they can even say something, as I hear my brother and father's  heavily American accented voices falter.

**********
"I came, what do you want?" I cross my arms, as the large white door swings open, and I'm met by the sly Andrew Chandler, as his blue eyes pierce into my own brown ones. 

"Come in, babe." He's in a crisp white robe, holding a glass of champagne.

"It's Doctor Monteiro." I snap, feeling my blood boil, feeling disrespected by the world renowned surgeon. 

Andrew opens the door wider, letting me into his extremely vast penthouse suite. 

"You were always the dominant one." He states. "I like being controlled." 

"I have a boyfriend." I state. "Now what did you want to discuss?"

"Right, come sit." He leads me toward his sitting area, as I swiftly take a seat, crossing my legs. Andrew sits across from me, setting his champagne glass down on the glossy table.