Footsteps echoed down the hall. Mikhael
lifted his
head and looked to the door. Who was coming now?
The door opened with a low crick. Mikhael
watched
closely. A woman his age stood in the doorway. She was dressed to go
out with a
navy dress suit with a sea blue top under her nice jacket. Her long
reddish
blonde hung around her in a mess at her shoulders. She looked bored.
Mikhael
thought she was decent-looking.
The girl lowered her shades. “Who are you?”
she
snorted. Mikhael sat quiet. What could he say to this potential angel?
“Uh…” Mikhael spoke up. “I… uh… uh…” The girl
rolled
her eyes. “Are you my fiancée?” she asked snobbishly. The boy
kept silent and
nodded. The girl shook her head. “Oh my god,” she said in
disappointment.
“Daddy must be desperate!” Then she walked off.
Mikhael hung his head again. “Gee thanks!”
he
thought. Things couldn’t get any worse.
Breakfast seemed awkward. Mikhael came in
late. His
future bride just glared. Nikita and Boris were eating all ready. All
three
watched their “guest”. “Uh… hi…” Mik said. *Sweat drop on his head as
he
nervously laughs*
“Come and eat.” Nikita spoke up. Mik nodded
uneasily
and complied. He sat across from his future bride. “Borstch?” Nikita offered. Mik said
nothing and took the bowl to serve himself. The mob boss grinned. He
winked at
the boy. Mik felt sick.
Nikita stood from the table. “I will proudly
announce the engagement of my daughter, Valentina Popova, to Mikhael
Kvasha!”
he exclaimed. Boris clapped. Valentina glared at Mikhael coldly. Mik
just hung
his head. Hell was just starting now.