Alex ran a hand over his face with an exhale. He’d been pouring over his father’s papers for the better part of the day and somehow, between sitting down and finally looking up, night had crept up on him. Somewhere in his father’s home, a clock chimed eleven times over and Alex sighed again, sitting back in the leather chair. The funeral was in two days and there was too much to do before then.
Death was hardly ever planned (unless they were the ones planning it) but Drago’s had been a shock to the system. The Pavlov’s had built an empire on the bones of those who opposed them, and yet there were others who sought to take it from them even now. Who wanted to shake their family with the death of their patriarch. And Alex was determined not to let it shake them. He’d be the pillar that took his father’s place.
There was no choice. Just duty. Just a role that he’d been trained for, brought up for. Just paperwork to go over. He stood up, stretching and glancing down at the paper scattered over the antique mahogany desk when he heard the door creak and glanced up sharply, hand hovering by the drawer that held his sidearm. But the house was secure. They’d made sure of it before letting family settle in over the next few days, people gathering for Dragomir Pavlov’s funeral.
It would be something akin to a state affair and Alex would be at the center of it all, in a way separate from his sisters and mother. He was Drago’s heir and, as such, he had to show that they were still as strong as they’d been. And they’d continue to be. The house was secure. He’d made sure of that. So he let his hand drift to his side as he saw Mila’s face peer around the corner of the door. “късно е, трябва да спиш” @shcwclf
the past few months had been like living in a bad dream, constantly floating in an out of moments that felt more surreal than anything else. there was a numbness that had been sitting in her stomach since October. It used to consume her, swallow her whole so that she was nothing more than a husk of whoever everyone else wanted her to be— but she’d worked hard to bring herself back from that, feeling a little more whole each day that passed.
her father wasn’t meant to die. it wasn’t his time and while mila knew that there was always a risk to her father being the powerful man that he was, it never really sunk in that one day something may happen to him. he was strong, like solid oak tree that had roots anchored deep in the earth, almost impossibly intertwined with the soil and rock beneath him. how did someone manage to unearth him? Alex had taken that role, taken on those strong roots, letting himself morph into the shadow of his father as if he’d always been there. She was worried, in a way— when would he mourn? would he even get to? their mother expected him to be bulletproof, to be unwavering in any storm. But Mila knew her brother was still human, wouldn’t he need time?
It was strange to be back in their family home in Sofia. there were definite ghosts of their past life that floated through the long hallways, the echoes of Mila and Alex laughing from the playroom and the high pitched sound of a then baby Nadya’s cries almost audible if she just closed her eyes hard enough. Seeing her brother sitting in their fathers chair, sitting under the portrait of the man, the similarities between the two in that moment were eerie. maybe this place was haunted by more than just memories. decades of Pavlov’s walked these halls, and while they may have relocated for now, Mila knew that one day their bloodline would return to haunt the stone and marble walls for a little longer in time.
“ Свикнал съм да съм буден. “ she hummed, dragging her finger along the bookshelf to the side of the room. there were so many memories within some of these books, and she was sure there were still some hidden messages that her and her brother had left in them for each other. “ I slept for a solid 20 minutes on the jet. Freya and Timo seemed able to sleep the entire time. I wish I could do that.” her fingers laced around one particular book, pulling it from the shelf and looking over it. “When does Soph arrive?”
germansingergirl
prguitarman
tangentwithtanner
snowghoul
yousharknotpass
origamiaround
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