Bound by lies, Trapped by Desire - Chapter 98: Chapter 98

Elena’s POV:
He didn’t come over.
Even though I could feel his gaze like a brand against my skin—burning, crawling under the fabric of my hoodie, prying into my soul—he didn’t approach the car. Instead, after a moment that felt like it stretched too long, he turned away.
Nikolai gave the car one final look, and then slipped into the back of his black SUV, the door shutting with a muted thud.
I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I saw his convoy drive off, tires crunching against the asphalt. The tension that had built up in my chest didn’t release though.
Malakai exhaled beside me, his hand still on the steering wheel, fingers drumming lightly. “Alright. Alright. Don’t worry. I get it.”
His tone was calm, easy even—but there was something behind the words that made my skin itch.
I glanced sideways at him, uncertain. Did he really get it? Or was he just saying that to pacify me? He didn’t push, and for that I was grateful, but something about the way his eyes lingered on me made it clear, he didn’t buy my explanation. Not completely.
And somehow, that made me even more irritated.
Ughh.
The rest of the ride passed in a quiet blur of traffic lights and shifting shadows. I leaned my head against the cool glass window, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my sleeve. The ache in my abdomen pulsed steadily, a low, throbbing reminder of everything I was trying not to think about.
Eventually, we pulled up in front of my house.
“I really appreciate this,” I said softly, pulling the strap of my rucksack over my shoulder. “Thanks for driving me. Really.”
Malakai glanced at me and smiled. “It’s no problem. You don’t look like you should be commuting alone right now.”
I gave him a weak smile and unlocked my phone. “Here. I’ll add you on WhatsApp. Just... if you ever need anything, feel free to reach out, alright?”
His brow lifted in mild amusement. “You sure? I might take you up on that offer.”
“Totally.” I mean, he really did help me a lot today.
A few taps later, his contact was saved. I moved to get out, but paused. “Oh—and tell Seraphina I’m sorry I missed her. I’d be happy to meet up later. She can call me whenever she’s free.”
Malakai nodded. “Don’t worry. I’m sure she won’t mind. I’ll give her your number. You two can connect.”
We exchanged a few more polite words—nothing too deep, just surface-level niceties—and then he rolled up the window, offering a casual wave as his car pulled away.
I stood there a moment longer than necessary, staring at the retreating taillights until they disappeared around the corner.
Then I turned toward the building and made my way up the steps. My legs felt heavier with each one I climbed. The ache in my pelvis flared again, sharp and biting this time, and I winced, pressing a palm against my lower abdomen.
Inside, the moment the door creaked open, I heard her voice.
“Elena?”
The sound of my mother’s voice sliced through the house like a blade.
She was in the living room, her tone sharp and filled with something I couldn’t quite place. Irritation? Concern? Maybe both.
I frowned and quickened my steps despite the pain.
“I’m here,” I called back, tossing my bag onto the bench by the entrance.
When I stepped into the living room, I froze.
She was standing, arms crossed over her chest, eyes scanning me with laser precision. She looked me up and down like I’d grown another head.
“What happened?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“Where were you?” she shot back immediately. “And who was that dropping you off?”
Her tone wasn’t just stern—it was cold. Suspicious.
I hesitated. My fingers curled around the hem of my hoodie. Was she looking out through the window?
“Mom… he was just a friend.”
The words came out rushed, and even to my own ears, they sounded weak. Half-baked. But what else could I say? Telling her the full truth felt... impossible.
She raised one elegant brow. “Another older rich guy?”
The accusation was sharp, laced with unspoken implications. I blinked at her. The words hit me with a dull thud, and for a moment, I just stood there—dumbfounded.
Then realization crept in like a cold tide, and my chest tightened.
“No—God, no. Mom.” I sighed, running a hand down my face. “His name is Malakai. I was meeting with him because his sister—Seraphina—wanted to meet me.”
Her expression didn’t soften.
“Seraphina,” I emphasized again, my tone firmer now. “As in Seraphina Legacy. Malakai Legacy is her brother.”
That made her pause. Her brow furrowed slightly, lips pressing together. I could see her running the name through her mental files. But then—
“You met with Nikolai?” she asked.
Her voice was calm, but the accusation underneath it nearly made me flinch.
She hadn’t even registered the Seraphina part.
My heart stuttered.
Yeah, Mom. I met with him. Right after finding out I’m pregnant. Right after my life fell apart again.
But I couldn’t say that.
Should I lie? Should I keep this from her too?
Was I about to repeat the same cycle of silence and secrets all over again?
“I didn’t meet him, okay?” I said quickly, cutting her off before the disappointment in her face became too much to bear. “I was going to meet Seraphina only. Even her brother was supposed to leave, but she got held up. So we had coffee, and he dropped me off because I was…”
I hesitated.
“...feeling sick.”
She straightened instantly. “You were sick?” Her gaze snapped down my body again, this time not with suspicion, but concern. “What happened? Now that I see it… you do look pale.”
I exhaled hard and threw my arms out. “Exactly. Do you think I’d wear this—” I gestured to my hoodie and flared jeans, “—if I were going on a date with some older rich guy?”
My tone was laced with sarcasm, but Mom didn’t laugh.
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
“Alright,” she said slowly. “I was wrong. How are you feeling now?”
I shrugged. “Just peachy, Mom. I feel wonderful.”
I turned to leave, but her voice rang out behind me, sharp.
“Elena.”
I paused at the base of the stairs.
“I’m alright, okay?” I said without turning around. “Don’t worry. I didn’t eat breakfast, that’s all. I got dizzy. Now I need to go study. Exams start tomorrow.”
There was a long silence behind me, but she didn’t follow.
I took the stairs two at a time, heart pounding louder with every step.
Because I wasn’t alright. Not even close.
I was three weeks along. And the clock was ticking.
Eight weeks. That’s what I had. Maybe less.
In my room, I stripped off the hoodie and stepped into the bathroom, running the water until it turned hot and steamy. I stood under the spray for what felt like hours, letting it scald away the ache in my muscles.
When I emerged, wrapped in a towel, the room felt cold. Empty. Too quiet. I forced myself to not look at Nikolai’s clothes that hung inside my closet. His night button down that was kept folded against mine. I forced myself to forget all the memories we had made in this room in the past month.
I sat at my desk and cracked open my notes. The words swam on the page. I highlighted sentences I hadn’t memorized. I re-read the same paragraph five times.
Eventually, the night passed.
The next morning, I pulled on my F1 red and black varsity jacket. The one I used to wear when I wanted to feel a little tougher than I was. Black jeans.
I braided my hair, tugging it into a bun and jamming another baseball cap over my head.
No makeup. No cute skirts. No perfume.
I looked into the mirror, adjusting the cap again to hide the dark crescents under my eyes.
Fuck dressing up.
Seriously.
A week ago, I wore dresses to school. Luxurious pieces, designer stuff from the closet Nikolai had stocked for me.
It’s not like I didn’t have those. I still did. Kept in the wardrobe separately. But I didn’t want to wear anything or even look at anything that reminded me of him at this point.
So now I practically looked like I was homeless.
And maybe I was…because to me a home had always been with the people I loved.