The Next Chapter: Twisted Series Next Generation

Chapter 66: Niko Volkov

"As much as I hate to belabour a point, Niko." My mother continues in possibly the most nurturing voice she could concoct, perhaps to lessen the blow from whatever hurtful and demotivating statement that is about to hurl my way. "This all seems." She trails off, her lips pursing as she struggles to find the words.

"Not preferable to you?" I continue for her, watching as her brows pinch in confusion before her tight expression melts into a softer one.

"Of course not sweetheart, I think it's lovely you have feelings for Camilla. However, this all feels very quick."

My brows lifts as I feel the corner of my lip tilt up, "Didn't you tell Uncle Josh about Dad and you way later in your relationship." I muse, dangling my legs out a window as a lounge on a large sill that manages to comfortably accomodate my large body.

Watching as my Mothers tan skin tints a light crimson before she shakes her head and lets a soft smile overturn her lips. "As clever as you are, I think it would be best if you put your wits aside just for this conversation."

"What your Mother means to say." Dad decides to chime in as he rubs his clean shaven jaw, before stalking towards his wife who was seated on an elegant chaste that matched the designs on the heaven resembling ceiling. "Dating is one thing, but jumping to marriage is a whole other situation."

All I could manage to do was offer them a weak shrug as I lazily let my body lean back against the wall. "I don't see the issue."

Both my parents displayed their concern in ways that concentrated one another so heavily.

My mother wore her emotions on her soft features, watching as her eyes widened to the size of a dime.

While my Father carries some stoicism, to the naked eye it may appear to be a lack of emotions. However, the pleasure of being in his presence for my entire life has attuned me to that stoic personality, allowing me a deep insight on the slightest of ticks that portray his emotions.

Just like Jeremy.

"Look." I continue, "Don't you think this is a bit heavy hearted? You guys are acting like I'm conscripted."

"You would have a better chance of surviving a war than this." My Dad slowly murmurs which causes my mother to release a quiet gasp.

"Alex." She hisses with a narrowed glare as I watch her emotions scrunch her features.

My gaze narrows. "What exactly does that mean Dad?"

His expression reveals no difference at my bitter question, watching as he steps forward in a suave manner and lowers himself next to my Mother. His large hand taking her smaller one as he rubs her knuckles with his thumb.

My gaze falters to that, and for a moment, envy wraps its bitter noose around my neck and squeezes until jealousy reveals a poison on my tongue.

Would Camilla ever allow me to comfort her? Asides from when she is not heavily intoxicated to the point of passing out. Instead of returning a glare of disdain, would she allow me to stroke her knuckles aswell?

The sentimental thoughts that plagued my head had me scoffing. To spend so much of my life burying these feelings in fear of getting hurt because of them, apparently all of that was for naught.

Despite every cold encounter Camilla had delivered to me, I could not resist acting like a fool merely to evoke emotions from her whenever I was in her presence. 

She could threaten to give me a mile to leave her alone, yet I would beg for an inch of her attention.

Feeling more and more like a heartbroken dog, I decided to engage back into the heartfelt conversation my parents attempted to use in order to have me see more of a logical approach.