The epitome of success, Ambrosius Sidorov had it all.
Money, though didn't need it.
Power, though it bored him.
A lavish penthouse in downtown Chicago.
And the most powerful Throne.
That is, up until the fateful night when his siblings were murdered...
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Sidorov City, Russia
2 weeks later
Winter might be in recession elsewhere in the Northern hemisphere but Siberia seemed to be the exception these days. The weather was not deplorable per se, but it wasn’t the greatest; though that was a matter of perspective and perspective changed from person to person.
The view from the mansion was worth the endurance anyway. Ambrosius admired the great city the Administration had built in the middle of Siberia. There were at least twenty skyscrapers of which five passed the 2,000 foot marker and the crown jewel made it to the mile marker. Soon the city would be fit for habitation and all construction will be completed. But until then, neither Ambrosius nor his bodyguards minded the lakeside mansion.
Nathan was in a corner having a drink with Tim while Mark and Charlotte gossiped by the fireplace. Ambrosius did not miss James’ ominous presence. He didn’t need such toxicity in his life ever again. It felt nice to be surrounded by people Ambrsius could trust but at the same time he felt a void deep in the confines of his mind.
After realizing the people he thought were his parents turned out to be imposters, he activated all resources available to him to locate his parents. The search was still ongoing, at this point he didn’t know whether they were dead or alive. He was really after closure and didn’t hold on to any hopes or wishful thinking.
Having lost his siblings had truly left a scar so deep not even a millenium would heal it. Ambrosius needed to know without a shadow of a doubt that he was alone in this world. Devoid of any and all family. Ambrosius took a sip of his drink from the goblet he held in his hand.
A loud crash of the front door reverberated throughout the expanse of the house followed by a poised click of heels, almost akin to the signature Sidorov pace. The steps became louder gradually until two figures could be made out distinctly in the hall. Ambrosius was perplexed upon realizing who it was.
-Cedric? I can’t say I was expecting you. What in the name of Romanov are you doing here?-
The young lawyer stopped his trek and took off his Burberry trench coat which had provided great protection and warmth against the Siberian cold. He handed it to his assistant in a fluid motion.
-I’m surprised you still don’t remember me, brother.- Cedric looked up and met Ambrosius’ gaze. It took a split second for the master to realize the implications of Cedric’s words but once they clicked, the world around them shattered like the glass that fell from Ambrosius’ hand.
