Bound by lies, Trapped by Desire - Chapter 43: Chapter 43

Elena’s POV:
Nikolai’s body stiffened like a board, and I instantly regretted what I’d said. His shoulders squared, jaw clenched, and I could see the shadow of something cold flicker in his eyes. I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea—that his attitude towards me was making me doubt my own feelings.
I forced a cheerful smile and nodded toward the plate on the table. "Nevermind that. Are those for me?"
He blinked once, the tension easing slightly from his face as he followed my gaze. Then he nodded, a small grunt of confirmation escaping his lips.
I reached out, picking up one of the sandwiches. It was still warm, the bread lightly toasted and crisp beneath my fingers. I took a bite, the savory flavors melting on my tongue, grounding me. I was starving.
But the moment was short-lived.
"What did Morozov do?" Nikolai asked suddenly, his voice low and hard.
I stilled, mid-chew, and blinked. "Lazar?"
"What do you mean?" I tried to sound casual, but my voice came out higher than intended.
His eyes didn't leave mine. "You slapped him yesterday. Did he do something?"
My heartbeat stuttered. Right. He was stalking me.
I swallowed the mouthful of food, pushing it down my throat like it was made of sandpaper.
I looked up at him, trying to mask my alarm with dry humor. I tilted my head and smirked. "Do you... stalk me everywhere?"
He didn’t even blink, didn’t offer a sheepish shrug or a laugh. He just nodded, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "You’re my wife."
That made something in my stomach twist, not from fear, but from something far more unsettling. Comfort. Like this wasn’t new. Like... like he had always been watching. Because I knew he had been….otherwise how would he have known beforehand that I would come to his office that day?
I looked away before I could drown in that thought, letting out a long breath. "He was just being rude. You don’t have to worry about it."
I hated the way my voice came out soft, defensive. I didn’t want him interfering, not when things were already complicated enough. Professor Vasily had made it very clear—I was on thin ice.
I pushed the rest of the sandwich onto the plate, suddenly not hungry. I stood and walked toward the stove, intent on making the porridge for Mom before she woke up. My movements were methodical, familiar. I scooped the oats into the pot, added water, a pinch of salt, some milk, and stirred.
The porridge bubbled gently as I added the honey, just the way she liked it. Cinnamon next. Behind me, Nikolai stood from his seat, pushing it back with a scrape. "I’m leaving," he said.
I turned around, and before I could respond, he walked up to me and pressed a sudden, quick kiss to my lips.
I blinked, stunned.
His voice dropped into that maddeningly deep, smug tone. "See you at night, malishka."
"You’re coming back?" I asked, my voice rising.
His smile faltered, just slightly, but enough for me to feel a pang in my chest. "Should I not?"
I saw the hint of disappointment in his eyes, and guilt gripped me.
"That’s not what I meant. You’re very welcome. In fact, that would be easier on me too. I’m just... wondering. Isn’t coming and going hard for you?"
His face lit up like I’d handed him the moon. His lips curved into something soft, tender. "I don’t think coming and going just once is that hard, malishka. My wife is working so hard after all."
My face heated, and I looked away, pretending to check the porridge.
He chuckled under his breath, and then he was gone.
I served the porridge into a bowl and carried it carefully to Mom’s room. She was sitting up already, propped against the pillows.
"Good morning," I whispered, placing the bowl on her bedside table.
She smiled. "Smells like cinnamon."
I sat with her for a while, while she ate, sipping at the coffee I had made for myself. She asked about Nikolai and I told her he’d be back at night.
“He’s going to be staying here?” Mom looked at me with raised brows and I smiled, “Yeah.”
She frowned then, “You don’t need to do this for me Elena, I can just—”
I cut her off before she says anything further, “It’s not for you. It’s for me. I can’t live separately from you mom. Especially not when you’re still recovering.”
“I’m way better now. I can go up and down the stairs myself.” She says, and I see the worry in her eyes as she continues, “Wouldn’t this be a hassle for Nikolai?”
“Of course not. He’s the one who volunteered.” I smile, even as my heart aches, because there's a part of me who does believe that this might be going too far. I need to get my emotions under control starting today.
Especially after that change in demeanor in the kitchen. It’s very clear that he’s uncomfortable mentioning feelings. He just wants friendship and sex. So that’s what he’ll get.
No emotions.
I swallow.
Mom finally gives up trying to convince me and after she’s done with her breakfast, I kiss her forehead and gather my bag and leave.
At university, I walked straight into Professor Vasily near the admin office.
His expression was tight as he greeted me. "Elena. Did you apologize yet?"
I stiffened. He still remembered that? "Sir, I—"
I tried to explain, "I slapped Lazar because he touched me without permission. It wasn’t a misunderstanding."
The professor’s mouth flattened, and then his eyes shifted downward in disappointment. "I hadn’t expected this from you."
My spine straightened. "Excuse me?"
He sighed, as if I were a child throwing a tantrum over a toy. "I didn’t think you’d have such backwards thinking, Elena. I spoke to Lazar yesterday. He said he touched you accidentally, and you reacted... disproportionately."
I stared at him, my chest burning. "He did not do it by accident. Sir, I’ve been friends with many guys, and I’ve never just slapped them for touching me or hugging me. Why would you think I did it—"
I stopped.
The look in his eyes—
It was the same look the loan sharks had given my parents. That blank, annoyed stare like your existence was a nuisance. A problem to be ignored or managed.
I bit the inside of my cheek until it hurt. I needed this professor on my side. My next project would be under him. I couldn’t afford to be cast out. I couldn’t afford to argue or be rude.
He exhaled loudly. "Nevermind. I better not see such a thing happening again. I apologized in your stead earlier... just know that I’m disappointed."
My stomach churned. My teeth ached from how tightly I was clenching my jaw.
"Alright, I ....apologize sir" I grit out.
I turned on my heel and walked to my bench. My hair was braided today—a small, mundane thing, but I hadn’t done it in a while. It stayed out of my face, letting me focus. Well, as much as I could before my braid reminded me of Nikolai’s words last night. Braids suit me huh?
Classes went by in a blur. I buried myself in work, careful not to attract attention.
After the final lecture, I stepped out into the warm air, only to freeze.
Dmitri.
He was standing across the courtyard, talking to Lazar. They were far enough that I couldn’t hear them, but close enough to make my skin crawl. Dmitri’s eyes locked on mine.
I ignored him.
I walked straight past them, not giving either of them the satisfaction of a second glance.
The streets outside the university were bustling. I took the tram into downtown and walked the last few blocks to the cafe. The bell above the door jingled as I entered.
My manager glanced up from behind the counter. "Hey, Elena. How’s your mom?"
I smiled, shrugging off my bag. "Doing better. She’ll be back to work in a week or so."
"Good to hear. Clock in whenever you’re ready."
I nodded and moved behind the counter, tying on my apron. The familiar grind of the espresso machine, the smell of coffee beans and fresh pastries, wrapped around me like a safety net.
Hours passed.
By the time I hung up my apron and stepped outside, the sky was painted with the warm hues of early evening. The streets were quieter now, a few cars rolling lazily by, headlights blinking in the dimming light.
I wrapped my cardigan tighter around me, heading toward the tram station.
And then—I felt it.
A sudden chill crept down my spine. Not from the breeze, but from something else.
Someone was watching me.
I didn’t stop walking, but my pace quickened. My eyes scanned the dim street corners, the empty cafe windows reflecting distorted glimpses of movement.
Was it one of Nikolai’s people?
He was the only one I knew who had eyes on me. If that were the case then wouldn’t I have felt eyes on me all day?
But this... this didn’t feel good. This wasn’t protective. This felt—
Lecherous. Hungry.
Like someone was leering at me from the shadows.
I bit my lip, hands curling into fists inside my sleeves.
Why did it feel so terrible?