Bound by lies, Trapped by Desire - Chapter 31: Chapter 31

Elena’s POV:
Dmitri went sprawling across the polished marble floor, his body thudding hard enough to echo off the walls. I gasped, a hiccup catching in my throat as tears blurred my vision, my fingers trembling as I clenched them.
But Nikolai didn’t stop.
He was on his brother again before I could blink. Fist after fist landed with sickening thuds, each blow hitting harder than the last. Dmitri tried to fight back, landing a couple punches himself. He wasn’t even close to being Nikolai's match though. Not in strength, not in speed, not in sheer rage.
The sound of fists slamming into flesh was brutal and I finally snapped out of my daze, realizing this was real. Nikolai was punching his brother.
"Stop! Nikolai!" I moved forward, voice cracking. He didn’t hear me.
His knuckles split as they slammed into Dmitri’s cheek again, his breathing ragged, his face twisted into something wild. My heart thundered in my chest, the fear rising. He wasn’t just hitting him anymore. Fucking hell.
He was bleeding. Nikolai would kill him if this went on. I grabbed his arm, pulling it back.
"NIKOLAI, STOP!" I shrieked.
He froze.
His hand was mid-air, coiled, ready to strike. But when he looked up at me, his eyes widened, as though he'd just woken up from a trance.
He looked at his bloodied hand, then at his brother beneath him, groaning, half-conscious.
Nikolai pushed himself off with a shuddering breath and stood, towering over Dmitri. For a second, he just stared down at him, expression unreadable, before his lips curled in disdain.
"You really are a dog," he spat. "You belong to the streets. If loyalty doesn’t mean anything to you….if that’s how you think, you deserve someone like your mother—greedy, manipulative, and incapable of love. Those two are a perfect match. She and Father both. You should find someone like her, stay away from Elena."
Dmitri coughed, wiping blood from his mouth, glaring up at him. His nostrils flared, body twitching like he was about to launch.
"Get out," I said.
My voice wasn’t loud. But it was sharp. Cold. Final.
Dmitri froze and looked at me with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"Get out," I repeated, my voice firmer now. "Before we call security and you have to do the walk of shame all over again. Have some fucking dignity, Dmitri. I’ve already lost all respect for you. I don’t mind the world seeing you being dragged out. Exactly like a fucking dog."
I didn’t even know I could speak like that. The words left my mouth before I could think, but I didn’t regret them. Not one syllable.
Dmitri staggered to his feet, swaying slightly, his jaw bruised and swelling. He gave me a long, pained look—equal parts anger and heartbreak—before letting out a scoff of bitter laughter.
"Well... since you're being so honest," he said, voice raspy, "I'll be upfront too. My brother ain't a saint either. You'll realize that soon enough. Don't say I didn't warn you."
I rolled my eyes as he turned, limping out of the room. His footsteps echoed, loud and unsteady, the sound trailing behind him like the last gasps of a pathetic storm. A second later, the elevator dinged, and silence blanketed the penthouse once again.
I let out a shuddering breath, wiping the tears off my cheeks with the back of my hand. I felt pathetic. Like a complete loser for letting him get to me. For crying in front of them. My mother always taught me never to cry in front of people.
You don’t hand anyone that kind of power.
And now, I felt like I’d failed her.
I looked up, blinking through my tears. That’s when I saw it.
Nikolai’s back was turned as he picked up a towel and began wiping the blood from his knuckles. He was shirtless, his back muscles flexing and a circular scar caught my eyes. My brows furrowed. It wasn’t a normal scar. It was ringed—almost like something circular had jabbed him repeatedly, leaving jagged white tissue in its wake.
I frowned, the memory of touching that spot earlier flashing through my mind.
"Nikolai?" I called out.
He didn’t answer at first. He just stood there, still.
"Hm?" he finally responded, almost like he’d forgotten where he was.
"Are you... okay?" I asked, stepping toward him, my concern rising.
He turned to face me, slowly, and something flickered in his eyes—guilt? Regret? Whatever it was, it vanished quickly. He crossed the room in two quick strides and pulled me into a hug so sudden, so tight, I barely had time to react.
My heart jumped in my chest.
What the hell?
"What are you doing?!" I exclaimed, hands awkwardly stuck between us.
It felt... intimate. Strangely more intimate than sex. Because this? This was raw emotion.
"I’m sorry, Malishka," he whispered.
I froze. I hated how that word made me feel.
"For what?" I asked quietly. He hadn’t done anything but help me.
He pulled back slightly, enough to look me in the eyes.
"For everything that happened. For my family. For Dmitri. You didn’t deserve that."
It was genuine. So painfully sincere I could barely hold his gaze.
I huffed, trying to mask how overwhelmed I felt. "It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. Honestly, I should be the one apologizing. You’ve got a shitty family. That must suck."
He laughed at that—a real one. And I found myself smiling too.
He turned around, grabbing the phone on the wall.
"Hungry?"
I nodded immediately.
"Chinese?"
"Yes, please."
Nikolai ordered quickly, then joined me on the couch facing the television. His room was massive, but his T.V faced the couch instead of the bed. Which I found slightly weird.
When the food arrived, we spread it out over the coffee table. We spent the next two hours binge-watching The 100 on Netflix. I had no idea he liked survival sci-fi too. Every now and then, we’d bicker over which characters we liked, argue about who was hotter—Bellamy obviously won. I hadn’t laughed like that in a long time.
By the time the clock struck 2 a.m., I could barely keep my eyes open and I once again drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, I woke to the scent of warm vanilla.
I rolled out of bed, still wearing one of Nikolai’s oversized black shirts, and padded down the stairs, yawning. The kitchen came into view and I stopped, blinking in disbelief.
There he was.
Wearing nothing but an apron over his bare chest, flipping waffles onto a plate.
He turned and smiled when he saw me.
"Good morning, Malishka. Syrup or ice cream with your waffles?"
I blinked.
"Are you real?"
He chuckled, setting a plate down for me. I sat, still groggy, and took the first bite. Heaven.
Then I finally remembered my phone, I went back up to look for it—but couldn’t find it anywhere. Confused, I came back downstairs.
It was sitting on the kitchen counter. “How did that get there?” I mumbled.
As I reached for it, Nikolai glanced over. "Oh, it kept ringing and it wasn’t your mother so I brought it down with me, so that you could sleep longer. Before you open that... I would suggest you brace yourself."
My brows furrowed. I unlocked my screen.
Notifications flooded in. Texts. Missed calls. Mentions. Tags. My heart dropped.
Dozens of pictures. Me. In his arms. In a bridal carry. Outside the lobby.
Oh. My. God.