CHAPTER FIVE: CONSTANT REMINDERS
IVAN'S POV
Ignoring her comment, Ivan took long strides down the narrow, polished corridor to the elevator. The elevator chimed as it slowly creaked to a halt as the long silver doors pried themselves open slowly with a hiss. A tall woman stepped out. Her golden hazel gaze fell on him as a chilling smile spread across her red lips, "Ivan, my sweet boy."
"Morning, Aunt Mae," he says as he steps inside the elevator with his foot at the bottom of the doors, "can't talk long. Don't want to be late-"
Aunt Mae reaches out to hold his chin with her long thin hands placing a kiss on his cheek. A look of distaste spreads across her face as she pulls away to examine his attire. "On your way to school to overthrow an entire government. We all know," she coos, "and we're so proud of you and your sister. But sweet child, could you not have dressed better for the occasion?"
"Aiming for indifferent and forgettable, Aunt Mae."
"Black dress pants, leather shoes, a button-up, and black tie? Please, honey, I'll do my best to forget I let you walk out in that monstrosity. You look like your father. The old bloke would be proud," she huffed. "This is New York, dear. It wouldn't hurt to have a little character."
Ivan removes his foot from the elevator's frame," okay, see you tonight, Aunt Mae."
She turns away as the doors slowly begin to close, "Oh, and Ivan, dinner is at 7. So don't be late."
"Yes, ma'am." The silver doors wheezed as they closed behind her.
Shit.
Dinner at 7 didn't mean a nice home-cooked meal with the family saying grace in the dining hall. Ivan chewed the inside of his lip as he conjured the fragments of his schedule in his mind. Father scheduled a meeting without informing him or Sasha.
Which could only mean one of two things; his image as the mayor was at stake, or someone embarrassed the department. The elevator hummed as it slowly lowered itself from the floors.
His family consisted of New York's most wanted terrorists and mutants. At least, that's what New York Times refers to them. And the head of their organization was none other than the Mayor of New York himself, Derek Leray.
So while their work isn't ethical or the first approach many would take, they're the first to get results. However, Ivan was disgruntled at his thoughts; Once this is over, mutants will be the last thing the government will repress.
The elevator doors screech as they pry themselves open once they reach the bottom floor. At the front entrance, a tall, slender man was waiting impatiently in a tailored suit and white collared button-up. His large frame slumped against the pillar as he stuck among the collected residents. The man spoke with gritted teeth trying to smile, "you're late, kid."