Emperor of Mayhem

t w e n t y - s i x

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Even though the voice in my head told me to stay back just as I was told to. And even though there was an unsettling feeling in my gut telling me the moment I opened that door, my life was going to start spinning out of control, I still placed my hand on the knob and pulled the door open.

And as soon as I stepped onto the other side, I saw him, six feet tall, long hair cascading down only to rest on his Titan shoulders, angular jaws hard as the edges swore to cut through a diamond.

Viktor Pavel Kuzmin.

My father.

There were three men in the room, Mr Varkov, Alexei and him-dad. Immediately I pulled open the door, all the three heads turned to me in a flash, as if I placed them under a remote control.

One had dancing in his silver eyes, rage which he used to masquerade the fear he was feeling some while ago. The loyal soldier who still had blood trickling down his nose zeroed on me, icy eyes empty of any emotion. Then the third man, my father, had shock, fear, joy, sympathy, remorse-all these emotions merged into one, dancing in the pool of his ocean eyes.

"Dad!" I echoed, and without hesitation for he was my father after all, ran into his awaiting arms.

"Babochka!" Dad cooed, wrapping his arms tightly around me, my face pressing into his chest, as he enveloped me in his warmth. I felt home. I felt safe. I felt protected. My father was back.

"Dad, where have you been?" I found my shoulders shaking as my emotions took the best of me and I began to cry, "Where did you go and leave me all alone?"

"I'm so sorry, my precious," he had my face in his palms, pulling me closer to kiss my forehead, his eyes still had that regret and remorse dancing in them.

"I was so scared." I choked on another ray of sob, clutching onto his jacket, "I was so angry at you, you know."

"Forgive me, Babotchka," he kissed the crown of my head, rubbing his hand on my back to sooth my angry soul. "I got lost searching for what was never lost." His tone hardened at the last part.

The thought of the lost gold crossed my mind, and I believed that if he was here, then he had found it.

"Did you find the gold?" I asked, looking up at him. His blue eyes stared over my head to glare at the man standing behind us, jaws slightly ticking. It seemed he had a bone to pick. But why? He was the one that lost Mr Varkov's gold, right?

"Dad?" I prompted, following his line of vision.

Mr Varkov, though had his jaws in a tight line, just stared back at dad with an unreadable expression. But there was rage. He masked it so well with nonchalance and confidence.

"Dad?" I tugged at the sleeve of his jacket to get his attention, "Did you find what you were looking for? Is that why you have come back to get me? Have you given them to him? What about the person that stole it? Did you have him arrested?"

He wasn't answering me. Just glaring at Mr Varkov for reasons I did not know.

"Why aren't you saying anything, dad?" I prodded for answers, and I was starting to get frustrated from being turned deaf ears too.

"Babotchka," Dad finally looked away from Mr Varkov to spare me his attention, his hands resting on my shoulders. "Let's go back home."

"So you found the gold." I confirmed since he had refused to be direct with me.