CHAPTER 5: UNEXPECTED GUEST

A few days passed, and Mikaela had already brushed off the whole incident in class as if it never happened. She went back to her usual routine — coming to school, chatting loudly with friends, barely passing her quizzes, and looking forward to going home and eating. She thought that was the end of it; the men from the Volkov Group would leave soon, and life would go back to normal.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

One Saturday afternoon, their household was filled with excitement. Mikaela’s aunt had been waiting eagerly for weeks, because her long‑time partner, Ivan — the Russian man who first taught her bits of the language — was finally coming back to visit after being away for work.

“He said he has a surprise and is bringing a friend with him,” her aunt told everyone while preparing food. “Ivan said his friend is someone very important, but also very busy, so we should make him feel welcome.”

Mikaela didn’t think much of it. To her, Ivan was just the fun, easy‑going guy who used to give her sweets and play word games when she was younger. As for the friend? She assumed it was just another serious business person who would probably stay in the living room talking about boring things.

When the doorbell finally rang, everyone rushed to open it. There stood Ivan, looking just as she remembered — tall, smiling, and carrying bags of gifts. Beside him, however, stood someone who made Mikaela’s eyes widen and her steps freeze in place.

It was Artyom Volkov.

The same man who had asked her questions in class, the same man she had told she wasn’t interested in anything he offered — now standing right in her own home, dressed casually but still looking every bit as imposing and sharp as before.

Mikaela blinked, then immediately looked away, pretending she didn’t see him. No way. This has to be a coincidence. Or maybe I’m just seeing things.

“Everyone, your uncle has arrived!” her aunt said happily, pulling him inside. “And this is his friend, Artyom. They have known each other for years, working together on different projects.”

Ivan smiled and looked around until his eyes landed on Mikaela. His face lit up instantly.

“Ah, there she is! Little Mikaela — all grown up now!” he said, switching easily to Russian, his voice warm and familiar.

Ivan:

«Сколько лет, сколько зим! Ты стала ещё выше, и ещё громче, как я слышал!»

Translation: “Long time no see! You’ve grown taller, and even louder, from what I’ve heard!”

Mikaela’s expression softened immediately. All the earlier awkwardness vanished, and she walked over to him with a grin, answering back in the same language without hesitation — completely ignoring Artyom standing right beside them.

Mikaela:

«Иван! Наконец‑то ты вернулся! Я уже думала, что ты забыл про нас и про то, как учил меня словам, когда я была маленькой!»

Translation: “Ivan! You’re finally back! I thought you had forgotten about us and all the words you taught me when I was little!”

Ivan laughed and ruffled her hair, amused by how natural she sounded.

Ivan:

«Забыть? Никогда! Я всегда говорил, что у тебя отличный слух и память. Но скажи мне — ты всё ещё только говоришь на русском, а не учишься нормально в школе?»

Translation: “Forget? Never! I always said you have a great ear and memory. But tell me — are you still only speaking Russian instead of actually studying properly in school?”

Mikaela made a face and waved his hand off, still not glancing at Artyom even once.

Mikaela:

«Эй, учёба — это скучно! А языки — это интересно. Зачем тратить время на то, что не получается, если можно заниматься тем, что нравится?»

Translation: “Hey, studying is boring! Languages are fun. Why waste time on things I’m bad at when I can do what I enjoy?”

All this time, Artyom stood there quietly, watching the exchange. He understood every word, of course — and he also noticed very clearly that while Mikaela was talking, laughing, and being completely open with Ivan, she acted as if he was just part of the furniture. She didn’t greet him, didn’t look in his direction, and didn’t acknowledge his presence at all.

Ivan finally turned to Artyom with a smile, switching back to English to introduce them properly.

“Artyom, you already know Mikaela, I believe? She’s the one I told you about — the kid who picked up Russian just by listening to us talk.”

Artyom nodded, his eyes fixed on Mikaela. “Yes, we have met. Quite recently, actually.”

Mikaela just hummed vaguely, still looking only at Ivan. “Yeah, we saw each other at school. Nothing special.”

She then turned back to Ivan and continued speaking only in Russian again, completely shutting Artyom out of the conversation.

Mikaela:

«Ты привёз мне что‑нибудь вкусное? Или только эти официальные подарки для взрослых? Если нет — я тебя не прощу!»

Translation: “Did you bring me anything tasty? Or just those formal gifts for the adults? If not, I won’t forgive you!”

Ivan laughed and handed her a small box. “Of course I did. Always the same Mikaela — food first, everything else later.”

Artyom stood there, arms crossed, a faint, amused smirk playing on his lips. He had expected her to be surprised, maybe even a little nervous to see him again outside of school. But instead, she was treating him like he didn’t exist — focusing all her attention on Ivan, using the language she knew so well, and pretending he was invisible.

It was rude, it was childish, and it was exactly the kind of behavior that only made him more interested.

While everyone else moved to the dining area, Mikaela walked beside Ivan, still chatting away in Russian, occasionally glancing back to make sure Artyom wasn’t getting too close — but never once saying a single word or even a glance toward him.

“Unbelievable,” Artyom thought to himself, shaking his head slightly. “She can speak perfectly, but chooses to ignore me completely. Well… this is going to be more fun than I expected.”

To be continue...

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