Dimitri felt a knot in his stomach.
"Quick, Mikhail. Our flight! We are returning to Russia tomorrow as soon as possible," he ordered.
Mikhail frowned. "But sir, there-"
"You fucking idiot. Do it, dammit!" Dimitri shouted at him, pulling his phone out to call his father.
Mr. Petrov answered. "Dimitri?"
"Dad, I'm coming home tomorrow. Please, have people wait for me at the airport so that they can pick me up as soon as I land," Dimitri said. He was sounding paranoid, and he could feel that his father had noticed.
There was a few seconds of silence before Mr. Petrov asked, "Did something happen over there?"
"H-huh?" Dimitri smiled awkwardly, panicking. "Nothing, nothing happened. Haha."
"Dimitri, do you realize that this is exactly how you sound when you fuck up?!" Mr. Petrov questioned me from the other side of the phone.
Dimitri swallowed hard. "N-nothing happened, Dad. I'm being serious, trust me."
