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SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL

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SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰


I loiter in the corner of the elevator. It takes me up to the penthouse of Nikolai's building at an excruciatingly slow pace, and it does not please me. As soon as the doors slide open, I bolt to the entrance of the apartment in the least savage way possible. 

I rap my knuckles against the mahogany door and practically jump into my brother's arms when his face appears. "Nikolai!"

"Hey, baby sister!" he chuckles, enveloping me in a tight hug. 

"Oh my god, I missed you so much." I step back from him and examine his figure. He looks considerably more mature since the last time I saw him. A fine layer of stubble lines his chin, and his hair has grown out slightly. The suit that he has chosen highlights his muscles nicely, which shows that he luckily hasn't been just lazing about for four years. I wish that I could have visited him more often. My parents had left to see him before, but they'd made me stay home.

"Are you ready to go?" I sigh, upset that we can't stay in Chicago.

"Yeah." He grabs a duffel bag from a hidden closet off to the side along with his keys.

The driver has left already since his assignment was only to bring me to my brother's place. Once we get downstairs, we hop into Nikolai's sleek black car and race across the final stretch to my new home. No, not home. House. Maybe not even a house. Living quarters? Any place that isn't Volkov Manor or my brother's apartment could never be home.

Nikolai glances at me, sizing me up in the same way that I had to him. It was something that our parents have taught us. The act of judging people isn't rude. It is a way to help you make choices based on other people, and it is necessary. 

"You've grown up so much." He shakes his head in disbelief.

"Well, I'm not twelve anymore, so I'm bound to look different," I shrug.

"I just want you to be careful, you know? You're not a little kid anymore and there are guys out there-"

I roll my eyes. "Nikolai, I know. I might not be little, but I am smart."

"To be fair, you're pretty short," he muses.

I laugh quietly. I know that I'm pretty. It runs in the family, which is extremely useful for financial and personal gain. I'm small, as my brother has so kindly pointed out, averaging at about 5'4".  I'm not too curvy, though I have some accents in the right places. I have long, chocolate brown hair. I didn't inherit my mother's silky golden locks or either of my parents' blue eyes. My eyes are amber. Yellowish color with flakes of brown makes them seem to glow.

𝐒𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 ♚ s. hyde ✔Where stories live. Discover now