"I love you," I whispered, unable to contain my emotions, as I stared at Alexander Kova. My heart raced as I caught his attention.

"What?" Alexander, the second-in-command drug lord, asked in surprise.

"Oh... Nothing, sir. I was just practicing my lines," I lied, desperately trying to cover up the truth. The look he gave me earlier made it clear that he didn't want to hear those words from me, especially since I was just a child. "So, when is Natalia coming down?" I asked, attempting to shift the conversation and alleviate the awkwardness.

Inside, I screamed, "I'm dying here. I need help." I couldn't believe I had fallen in love with my best friend's father. The butterflies in my stomach danced uncontrollably as I continued to gaze at him.

Alexander Kova, a well-known Russian gangster based in Canada, was a mix of Russian and American descent. He was not only my college friend Natalie Kova's father but also a divorced man with two children. And to make matters worse, he despised children like me.

Sighing heavily, I thought, "How does a seventeen-year-old college student fall in love with a thirty-seven-year-old father of two, a divorcee, and someone who hates brats?" Little did I know at the time that my new love would face even more obstacles, ones I couldn't anticipate. If I had known that she would be a stumbling block, I would have kept my mouth shut. But fate had other plans.

A FEW WEEKS BACK

It all started at school after a boring day spent in detention. I ended up there because I couldn't resist telling a female teacher to stop seducing the male students. In my defense, she came to school wearing a short mini-skirt and barely any top. It was obvious what she wanted.

Unlike my school's lack of attractive teachers, many handsome students seemed more mature than their age. Alone in the room, I muttered, "Today's all messed up."

"And whose fault is that?" a female voice echoed from the other end.

Startled, I jumped up in fear. It was a dark room, and if someone had entered, I would have noticed. "Show yourself," I demanded, but there was no response. "Just so you know... I'm a black belt holder," I warned, pausing for a moment. Well, it wasn't entirely false. I had learned a thing or two about self-defense.

"No doubt you are," the voice replied, this time from the opposite end of the room. Then, a young girl emerged from the shadowy corner. She had long black hair and eyes that held a world of experiences. If I guessed correctly, she was the same age as me. "Hi," she greeted me with a smile.

I walked over to where she stood. "Back at you," I replied, turning towards the door. "How did you get in here? I didn't see you come in," I complained.

"What, You don't know me?" she asked, sounding offended.

"Hmm, am I supposed to?" I questioned.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said with a slightly annoyed grunt. "We attend class together, and it's my third day at this school," she added.

"Oh... the new girl! I forgot," I realized, and then she looked familiar. "Sorry, I thought you were a teacher," I admitted with a smile.

"Right," she sarcastically spat.

"Anyway, sorry about that." I walked closer to her. "We started off on the wrong foot," I said, extending my hand. "My name is Sophie Rust, and I can be a bit of a blockhead sometimes," I introduced myself.

Laughing, she replied, "Yeah, I can see that," and shook my hand. "My name is Natalie Kova. I'm sixteen and apparently perfect."

"Huh... no one is perfect," I blurted out.

"Oh well, too bad for you because I am," she retorted.

"Whatever. Anyway... Kova? Is that your father's name?" I asked in surprise.

"Yes, why?" Natalie responded.

"Oh! Nothing... It's just that the name doesn't sound American, so I was kind of surprised," I explained.

"Yeah, that's because we're not. We're Russians," Natalie said.

"Oh wow, you don't look or sound Russian," I remarked. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound weird," I quickly added.

"It's fine. I get that a lot," Natalie reassured me, taking a seat on a wooden bench. I followed suit. "My father is not purely Russian; he's part American, and my mother was also American. So, although my father looks the part, I don't," she explained.

"Well, that's cool. Even I don't look like my parents, and I'm American," I said, trying to lighten the mood. "People sometimes ask if I'm adopted. Crazy, right?"

"Yeah," Natalie agreed.

"So... instead of Natalie, can I just call you Nat?" I asked.

"Why?" she inquired.

"Uh, because it's easier to pronounce," I replied with a serious expression.

"Hahaha, you're funny," she responded, laughing.

"Thanks. I know we're going to be great friends. I can feel it in my bones," I said confidently.

"Speak for yourself, weirdo," Natalie retorted.

"Ouch, I'm fucking hurt," I replied, and we both burst into laughter.

Just then, the door opened, and we heard a female voice say, "Okay... girls, time to go home. And Miss Kova, your father is here."

"Oh shit. They called my father?" Natalie exclaimed, standing up from the bench. "Can you believe that?" she asked, staring at me.

"Yeah! Welcome to Canada, bitch," I responded, and we both left the room.

"Oh, Dad!" Natalie called out. I turned in the direction she was looking and gasped audibly. She noticed my reaction and asked, worried, "What?"

"That... that's... your father?" I stammered.

"Yeah, why?" Natalie questioned.

"He's so fucking hot," I blurted out, unable to contain my thoughts.