IVAN NOKOVA
A ruthless, cold-hearted, short-tempered, loveless Russian mafia leader, who kills anyone without a second chance. He is a solo heir to inherit his throne. His father threw him out for not being fit for his throne. He lived on the stree...
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I can never seem to find a moment of peace to begin my day, always interrupted by her incessant nagging. Dior, do this. Dior, do that. It's never perfect; do it again. Ughhhhh! Sometimes, I wonder if God made us younger sisters just to endure the tantrums and old lectures of our elders.
"Dior...!" There it is, the Devil herself calling out. I closed my book with a heavy sigh, resigned to face her interrogation.
"What?" I snapped, raising my eyebrows as I opened the door to find her waiting for me, her expression resembling that of a police officer ready to conduct an interrogation.
She hunched her shoulders, taking a deep breath before unleashing her fury. "What do you think you're doing here, huh?!" Her words hit me like a slap, and I stared at her, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion.
"What the hell, Sofie! Can't I just study for my exams?" I protested, but she ignored my words, nodding her head as she pushed past me and stormed into my room. Frantically, she searched every corner and peered under the bed.
"Where is he? Dior, open your mouth and tell me! Where is he?" Her voice rose with each word, and I approached her cautiously, trying to decipher the chaotic whirlwind of emotions swirling around her.
"Sofie, what? Who are you talking about?" I asked, bewildered by her sudden accusation. She turned to face me, hands on her hips, her expression stern yet tinged with worry.
"Your so-called EX!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with frustration. "I heard a noise downstairs; someone entered your room. Now, don't you dare hide anything from me!"
My mind raced as I recalled the events of the night, remembering him slipping into my room through the window. A knot formed in my stomach, urging me not to divulge anything. "No one came, Sofie. I didn't call anyone here, okay? Now, just relax..."
She closed her eyes briefly, a flicker of pain crossing her features before she enveloped me in a hug. "Dior, I'm scared, okay, baby girl?" she whispered, her voice trembling with vulnerability. "What Zac did last time still haunts me..." With her words, I understood her fear and wrapped my arms around her, offering comfort and reassurance.
The mention of "baby girl," the same term used by the guy from before, tugged at my heartstrings, stirring up a mix of emotions within me. "By the way, Sofie! Don't call me baby... I'm old enough to be called by my name," I asserted, trying to push away the memories associated with that endearment.
Sofie giggled, playfully poking my hand with a mischievous smile. "But to me, you'll always be the sweet baby who cried over a fallen ice cream at the park," she teased her words a familiar refrain that I had grown accustomed to hearing from her.
"Whatever. I'm just going to study. I need to focus," I replied, taking my seat and purposefully ignoring her laughter echoing behind me.
"Yeah, baby girl, study hard. I'll give you some money. Don't forget to have breakfast," she called out as she walked away, her hips swaying with each step. I sighed, shaking my head in exasperation. "Can't you just cook something?" I shouted after her, but the only response was silence.
