"No, you don't understand Abu! There has to be some sort of politics involved."
Laila snapped at her godfather, not wasting more than a second to breathe. Ali Raza was seated in his armchair placed beside a bookshelf. The study was a reverberant room, which worked fine when the godfather was working in silence. With the current situation, however, the room was echoing with Laila's ranting and heavy breathing. She was pissed off over not making it to the coding club but mostly, how brutally she was rejected by Brutus. The scenario turned catastrophically unpleasant because Ali Raza was forty-five minutes late in greeting her due to a meeting.
Only the heavens could save his poor soul from the sufferings he was going to face.
He silently gazed at the girl walking in circles. Laila was fidgeting. Ali Raza hated when she did that. Her habit was unstoppable when she first came to Russia after her father...
He had made a promise to his late friend that he would protect his little angel till the end of time. He promised he would do his best to end all her sufferings and grant all her wishes. Laila wasn't a demanding child because she did not grow up this privileged. She knew her limits. It was Ali Raza who pushed her into the experiences of luxury. The man felt sad every time she denied a purse she took a good look at or the time when he offered to buy her a stylist. Initially, the girl accepted his presents to make him happy, but it did not take her time to adapt to this lifestyle of royalty.
"Dorogoy, I understand your strong emotions over this topic but I feel like you are being...a bit bratty." Laila's eyes shot up on the seated man, looking offended.
"WHAT! ME? BRATTY? Nifiga sebe!" (It was at this moment that Ali Raza realized, he fucked up.)
It took (What seemed like an eternity) Ali Raza twenty minutes to calm his goddaughter. She was still hurt over being tagged as a brat for expressing her feelings after being mistreated. Fortunately, she let it slide.
"Laila, eliksir of my life and keeper of my sanity, you're going to be just fine. Trust me. Go to your club teacher and explain to him your stance. He might reconsider his decision." Ali Raza spoke as he handed one piece of dark chocolate to Laila with a huge smile.
The chocolate had seemed to work. The bitterness of the cocoa overpowered Laila's as she put another one in her mouth. The chocolate melted instantly as it touched the tip of her tongue. The rich flavor trickled down her throat as she swallowed her anger with it. If talking to the teacher gets her into the club then that's exactly what she planned to do on Thursday.
Thursday is the most dreadful day of the week. You've been drained of all your energy. It feels like a mocking. All that work and it still isn't the weekend. The day is either extremely hot, making you sweat like a pig, or dead gloomy.
God takes depressive naps on Thursdays.
Laila put on her most serious outfit. She wore a faded white turtleneck with a black skirt underneath. Her shoulders were draped with a beige Monse button-down. Her eyes were perfectly healthy, the glasses were a style statement. She had already informed her best friend that she'd be busy with her heist to steal a club seat. Now that Mila wasn't waiting for her in class, she walked the stairs to reach the club room.
Walking with her head held high, she was ready to knock the door down. She grabbed the handle of the fiberglass, before it flung open, making Laila bump into a wide set of shoulders. Settling her glasses back on her face, she looked up. With his gaze steady and indignant, a man brushed off his sweater. "Miss Akhmetova, what gives?" Laila's eyes widened. Her birth surname wasn't known to many. Many knew her as Laila Raza. Just a few university board members used her official name including Mr. Vas and his secretory Haidar.
Haidar Zakirov was a man in his late thirties, but he aged like fine wine. His built was quite muscular. The students at Kazan theorized that he had appointed personal trainers and dietitians to maintain his physique. Zakirov joined Kazan a few years before Laila for the position of Mr. Vas's PA. The man went from having no duty as such to have a say in the trust's board meetings.
"Ignorant as always I see."
"I am so sorry, I was just going to the club room-"
"Least interested. Besides, the club members are already waiting for you to join them. Your new teacher has requested your presence." An extremely puzzled Laila questioned the man wearing cashmere. "ME? The club members and teacher...they're waiting...for me?" Were they already informed about the girl's arrival in thirst for a dramatic confrontation? She thought to herself.
Haidar ignored her blank face and walked away. The girl curiously peeped through the half-opened door. A few students were gathered around the notice board of the room. Beside them was a man a few inches taller who looked like the coding professor. Her eyes fell upon a student lounging on a chair who was not in a good mood. Feisty curse words escaped his mouth in a muffled manner.
Laila could recognize that annoying sound from miles away.
Brutus spotted the girl staring at him as he stood up. He sprinted out of the room and grabbed the girl by her arm, his grip extremely tight. He threw her against the walls as he growled in his hoarse voice:
"You. You did this."
Yet again, the girl's oblivious reaction to the situation was answered with her being stranded alone. She walked in to ask the teacher about Brutus's temper before she noticed a freshly printed paper on the blue board.
Updated List of students enrolled in the coding club: Laila Akhmetova,
Withdrawn student: Brutus Ivanov.
"What the fuck."
Glossary:
Dorogoy: My love
Nifiga sebe: wow
Eliksir: elixir
*HONESTLY I PROCRASTINATED SO MUCH. LIKE EVERY NIGHT I DECIDE, OKAY SAFA THIS IS IT. YOU'RE GONNA SPEND THE ENTIRE NIGHT TYPING THE REST OF THE CHAPTER. BUT IT NEVER HAPPENS. I GOT SERIOUS COMMITMENT ISSUES. I EVEN NEED TO START STUDYING. ANYWAYS ENJOY THE CHAPTER. I LOVE YOU.*
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The truth About cypher ✓
Mystery / Thriller"You were supposed to enjoy your last year as a college student not a thug with bounty over your head." . . . Laila had a life which was picture perfect. A student at Kazan University, she worked her way up. With good friends and a God Father who lo...
