He looked just like her.
The same cold gray eyes. The same black, curly hair. The perfect copy of an angelic-like face.
And today, his eyes shone like they never had before. His orbs burned so brightly that even the stars felt jealousy. His lovely dimples were carved deep into his pale cheeks as if frozen in a last expression. Something between love and something— so wrong.
The bright red liquid coming from his mouth made him look almost unreal. Not broken, not yet gone.
Just heartbreakingly beautiful.
Suddenly, his fragile smile took over most of his face.
She.
The one he was yearning for…she is here.
Even if it was late. Even if he had to wait—agonizing through endless, dragging breaths. She came.
She is going to fix it. She is going to do it, like she always does. Because his older sister was the kindest person he had ever known.
"B-blood…Ahh! Nikholai. What happened? Why are you covered in blood…ahh!" A very raw scream shattered something in the air. Rough. Utterly piercing. It echoed in that forgotten old room.
Nikholai felt her before he could fully see tears rolling down her face. Tears danced without a break on the face that featured many magazines and big movies.
Warm.
Her warm hands, trembling, lifted his head, pulling him to her embrace. Shaking. That sweet voice of hers was shaking.
Strange. Nikholai knew she did not shake.
"Do not worry, Nikholai… I am going to fix this. Your sister is going to fix it for you." Words that blurred together, a guilt wave squeezed Nikholai's heart. There was an unexplainable weight on those words. Not like a sister…but something deeper.
He tried to answer. Oh, Nikholai really tried. But again, something thick and warm was faster. It spilled past his lips. It choked him.
Pain. Everything hurt.
Everything around him flickered—light, darkness, and everything in between. Then, he found her. Nikholai met his older sister's gaze. Those cold gray eyes. Those pretty, terrified eyes.
He made his sister cry.
His fingers trembled weakly, trying to wipe those hateful tears, but even such a simple movement felt too heavy. For the first time that night, Nikholai thought that maybe his powerful sister might not be able to fix a gunshot near the heart. Right?
Regret crept in.
Perhaps, he should not have come. His sister told him to stay out of it. She was so firm about it.
But he saw how those guys...
How could they dare to call themselves gentlemen when they spoke so viciously about his sister? Calling her a seductress…blaming her for the downfall of that man. The one with a mustache.
They were so wrong.
They had to be, or else it did not make sense.
His sister was the sweetest woman alive. She was his protector. It seems there were a lot of people who misunderstood her.
For the longest time, he had believed she was his mother. Every birthday, he wished for it— a very selfish, childish dream of his. At that time, he had never really interacted with their mother or father. And to be honest, he preferred that way. Because the first time he saw their parents, they locked him inside that room. It was education. He was a bad boy. He could not flawlessly smile like his sister.
Their parents wanted perfection—
Perfection was equal to being part of that family.
He did not do well.
It was desperate, they said.
Looked in "that room," he cried without making a sound. He did not know how…or when… However, that night his sister broke into the room.
She sat on the bed—next to him. He caught her warm and lovely scent. She did not say anything. But that was enough. Her fingers brushed over his face, gentle, until trembling eased.
And then, carefully, she closed his eyes.
Yes…
Just like she was doing it right now.
Her voice became difficult to understand. It was little fragments. Coming and going. Too difficult to process them together.
The pain disappeared.
Just like that… gone.
Then…
Nothing.
Months later…
In the highest part of the city. She looked whimsical—like a once-in-a-lifetime memory that could vanish any second.
There were no cameras. No flashlights or headlines.
Just her. Nikholai's sister.
Seraphina Zhang
They were right. She was everything they called her and…worse. Even if she had to use that ethereal face of hers to destroy and build her empire over graves.
Seraphina did it all.
She fixed everything.
She owned the acting industry. Nobody dared to compare with her in skills. She ruined the empire that her parents guarded tightly.
Yet. Nikholai did not come back.
A laugh echoed at the top of a building.
So sharp. Broken. Real
So desperate.
Somewhere…there it was, really, someone who died thinking she was good.
And that was her greatest crime.
Seraphina jumped.
As she fell, she whispered, "I am coming to see you, my little boy."
Her voice did not crack.
It did not tremble at all.
Her soul was already gone when Nikholai left her.
And what if it was left...
A beautiful shell.