Bound by lies, Trapped by Desire

Chapter 1

My heart plummets.

My fists clench at my sides, nails biting into my palms as I stare, frozen, at the scene before me.

The room reeks of sweat and sex, I can’t help but tremble.

And there he is.

Dmitri.

My fiancé.

The man I was supposed to marry.

Groveling at my feet, tangled in his own damn pants as he fumbles to cover himself. His face is pale, his hair disheveled, his lips—those same lips that whispered loving words into my ears—swollen from kissing someone else.

A woman—a stranger—lays half-naked on the bed behind him, the silk sheets tangled around her body as she scrambles away like a cornered animal. Her eyes dart to mine in wide-eyed panic before she clutches the blanket to her chest and bolts toward the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

Coward.

Dmitri stares up at me, panic laced in his voice. "Elena—it's not what it looks like."

A hollow laugh escapes me. Cold. Emotionless. Clearly the laugh of a woman who has lost everything.

I take a step closer, my heels clicking against the polished hardwood floor. I feel detached from my own body, as if I'm watching this play out from somewhere far, far away.

"Not what it looks like?" I repeat softly, tilting my head.

Dmitri, the man who once promised me forever, dares to feed me that cliché excuse.

A lump lodges in my throat, burning like acid.

"Dmitri," my voice is eerily calm, my hands trembling with suppressed rage, "I just buried my father."

His eyes flicker with guilt, but his lips part uselessly, searching for words.

"I came here because I—I needed you." My voice cracks, raw with heartbreak. "And I find you like this?"

I gesture to the bed—our bed—where another woman had just lain underneath him. The sheets I had picked out. The mattress we had chosen together. The room that was supposed to be ours.

Dmitri pushes to his feet, his pants still unbuttoned, his entire existence suddenly repulsive. He reaches for me. "Please, I—"

"Don't touch me."

My voice is sharper than I intend, but the thought of his hands on me now makes my skin crawl.

His face twists, desperation seeping into his features. "It was a mistake! I wasn’t thinking—"

I scoff, my arms folding tightly over my chest. "Oh? Your dick just happened to slip into her?"

Dmitri flinches. "Elena—"

"Shut up."

My breath is ragged. My vision blurs, but I refuse to cry. I refuse to break down in front of him.

I should be screaming. I should be throwing things, clawing at him, making him bleed the way he's just made me bleed. But I can't. I'm too numb.

Too shattered.

A part of me—a stupid, naive, pathetic part—wants him to fight for me.

To drop to his knees. To beg. To convince me that this isn’t real, that this is just some nightmare I’ll wake up from.

But I don't wake up.

I just stand there, breathing in the reality of it all.

"You said you loved me."

Dmitri swallows hard. "I do."

My laugh is bitter. "You have a funny way of showing it."

Silence.

Maybe if this was the past me. Even the ‘me’ from yesterday, I would have screamed. I would have cursed him out. But now? I was already exhausted. Half my world had already shattered this morning.

So, instead, I inhale sharply and turn on my heel, my heart pounding against my ribs.

I need to leave.

Now.

"Elena, wait!" Dmitri grabs my wrist, his grip desperate, but I rip myself free with such force that he stumbles back.

The love I had for him dies in that moment.

I don’t even look back as I walk away. Leaving our apartment. I walk in a daze, my mind completely lost to mourning my step-father, mourning the marriage life that I knew wouldn’t happen anymore.

My parent’s house is dark when I step inside.

The funeral was in the morning. It felt like a lifetime ago. And now, it’s night.

Everything feels different. Colder. Like the walls know what I’ve seen tonight, know that I am no longer the same woman who left this house earlier.

I swallow the lump in my throat and walk deeper inside, my heels clicking against the wooden floor.

"Mom?" I call softly.

She must be sleeping. I had left her resting in her bedroom when I went to see Dmitri. God, I wish I hadn’t gone.

I wipe at my eyes, barely aware of the way my body shakes. The exhaustion crashes into me like a freight train.

One step. Then another.

I reach the kitchen, my fingers gripping the doorframe, ready to head upstairs—

Then I see her.

A choked gasp rips from my throat.

My mother.

She’s on the floor.

"Mom?" My voice trembles.

She doesn’t move.

The room spins. My breath catches. No. No, no, no.

I stumble forward, collapsing onto my knees beside her. My hands shake violently as I reach for her, pressing my fingers to her neck, checking for breath, for warmth, for anything—

She’s burning.

Her skin is clammy, her forehead damp. And there—little red splotches marring her arm.

Burns.

What happened?

"Mom!" I shake her. Hard. "Mom, wake up! Please!"

She doesn’t stir.

The air leaves my lungs.

No. No. NO.

Please, God. Not her. Not her too.

My pulse roars in my ears, drowning everything else out as I grab my phone, my fingers fumbling, my vision blurring.

My heart slams against my ribs.

My throat tightens.

Tears blind me.

But there’s no time to panic.

I dial.

The ringing feels endless.

Then—

“911, what’s your emergency?”

I swallow a sob.

"My mother—she’s unconscious. Please. Please hurry."

The operator starts talking, but I can barely hear.

I press my forehead to my mother’s, my body trembling.

“Stay with me,” I whisper. “Please, Mom. Stay with me.”

Chapter 2

Elena’s POV:

The sterile white halls of the emergency ward felt like they were closing in on me, the scent of antiseptic and fear thick in the air.

My mother was wheeled in on a gurney, nurses shouting to each other in rushed, clipped voices as the emergency room doors swung open, then slammed shut, sealing her away from me.

I stood frozen in the hallway, my pulse a frantic drum against my ribs.

What do I do? What do I do?

My hands trembled as I pressed them to my face, trying to steady my breath, but it was impossible. She was fine this morning. Weak, but alive. And now she was in there, fighting for her life.

A nurse approached, her expression gentle. "Miss Kovalyova?"

I turned, my throat too tight to respond.

"The doctor will speak with you shortly."

I nodded numbly, my nails digging into my palms.

Minutes stretched into eternity. I had no idea how long I stood there, my body tense and aching.

Then the doors swung open again, and a doctor stepped out, his face strained.

I rushed forward. “Is she okay?”

The doctor exhaled. "Your mother suffered a severe cardiac episode due to prolonged stress and underlying conditions. We need to perform an emergency bypass surgery to prevent further damage."

My breath caught. "Okay," I said, too quickly. "Then do it."

His face hardened. "The procedure costs fifty eight thousand dollars here."

The number hit me like a punch to the gut.

A sharp ringing filled my ears as my mind tried to process it. Fifty thousand dollars?!

I didn't have that kind of money.

Hell, I barely had enough to cover next month’s rent. We were already in deep shit with our previous debt.

"You'll need to secure the payment within the next twenty-four hours so we can proceed," the doctor continued, oblivious to the way my world was crumbling beneath my feet.

"Twenty-four hours?" My voice came out hollow.

"Yes. If we delay any longer, her condition may worsen beyond what surgery can fix."

I stared at him. Twenty-four hours. Fifty eight thousand dollars.

"Do you have insurance?" the doctor asked, his voice impassive, like this was just another conversation for him.

"No." My voice broke on the word.

"Family who can assist?"

I wanted to laugh. What family?

He sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I suggest you find a solution quickly. We will keep her stable for now, but time is of the essence." With that, he nodded and disappeared down the hallway, leaving me standing in the wreckage of my life.

I stumbled backward onto one of the plastic chairs in the waiting area, my vision swimming.

I was alone.

There was no one I could call, no one I could ask.

And for one horrifying second, my mind drifted to Dmitri.

Dmitri Vetrov. My ex-fiancé.

Rich. Powerful. The youngest son of a multimillionaire. He could write a check for fifty thousand dollars without blinking.

Would he help me?

My stomach curled in disgust at the thought.

I could see it now. His smug, self-satisfied smirk. The condescending tilt of his head as he crossed his arms and leaned back, acting as if I owed him something for his generosity after how I had left him begging on his knees just a while ago.

No.

If my mother found out I had lowered myself to begging my cheating ex for money, she wouldn’t accept it. She would rather die than have me throw away my dignity for her.

And I wasn’t sure I could survive begging Dmitri either.

Then who?

My nails dug into my knees, my breath coming in short gasps. What do I do? What do I do?

And then—

A familiar name echoed from a nearby television.

I lifted my head.

The hospital’s mounted TV was tuned into a business channel, the news anchor’s voice crisp and professional.

“—Vetrov Enterprises, owned by billionaire Nikolai Vetrov, announced a record-breaking deal today—”

Nikolai Vetrov.

The camera shifted to a man in his mid-thirties, dressed in a sharp black suit, his jawline like it was carved from stone. His dark brown hair gelled back to perfection.

His cold, calculating dark eyes scanned the reporters, his smile hiding something dangerous.

The most eligible bachelor in the whole of Alderidge.

Nikolai Vetrov.

Dmitri’s older stepbrother.

And the man who hated Dmitri with every fiber of his being.

The memory surfaced before I could stop it.

Dmitri’s twenty-fifth birthday. Six months ago.

A lavish party was held in a massive ballroom, filled with people who definitely didn’t belong in my world. I was from a lower class family, attending college with a scholarship.

However, I had become Dmitri’s girlfriend and after four years, for the first time he had invited me to such an occasion. Introducing me to others like I was a trophy. I had actually been extremely happy that day.

Because that was also the day Dmitri had proposed to me.

I had just left the restroom, smoothing out my dress, when I nearly collided with Nikolai Vetrov.

He had been leaning against the hallway wall, one hand in his pocket, a cigarette between his fingers. His onyx brown eyes swept over me, slow and deliberate.

Then he exhaled, releasing a cloud of smoke. "My condolences."

I frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Your mind is sharp," he murmured, voice low, slightly slurred from alcohol. "But your taste in men is absolutely tragic."

I had been dumbfounded.

Like, who says that about their own brother?

It was the first time I truly realized Nikolai didn’t just dislike Dmitri like a lot of siblings do. He despised him.

"You have such a smart little mind," he mused, "but it’s wasted on a man like him."

I scoffed. "And what makes you say that?"

Nikolai took another drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly as he looked out into the city through the massive floor to ceiling windows in front of us.

"He isn’t exactly husband material."

I let out a sharp laugh. "Oh? And what do you think makes a man husband material?" It had truly been funny to me, that a ‘man’ was telling me what ‘husband material’ was supposed to be.

But I didn’t defend Dmitri, I noticed the venom in Nikolai’s tone and knew it would be useless. I didn’t want to pick a fight with someone like him either.

His gaze darkened, piercing straight into my soul.

"He sucks at cooking."

My brows lifted. "Seriously?"

"You laugh, but a man who can’t even take care of himself can’t take care of you either."

I rolled my eyes. "It’s fine. I can cook and I’m used to taking care of myself."

Nikolai’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk.

"He’s shit with money. Spends it like water."

"He’s rich. Why does it matter?"

His gaze sharpened. "Are you marrying him for money, then?"

I met his stare and tilted my head. "What if I am?" Of course I wasn’t. I hadn’t taken a dime from Dmitri. Not that I was against being treated like a princess. I was just not used to being indebted to anyone like this, it made my skin itch.

However, instead of getting offended, Nikolai looked… satisfied. He straightened, flicking ash from his cigarette.

"Good," he said.

I frowned. That’s it?

He studied me for a long moment, then murmured, "I’m richer than him, you know."

I blinked.

"What does that have to do with me?"

Nikolai shrugged. Then he walked away.

Only later on had I realized what he meant when he had said the last line, but I had tossed it to the back of my mind and assumed he was testing me for his little brother.

That memory burned in my mind as I stared at his face on the TV screen.

Nikolai Vetrov was richer than Dmitri.

More powerful. More ruthless. And he hated his stepbrother.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

An idea began to take shape—insane, desperate, but my only option.

I needed money.

I wanted power.

And there was a man who had both.

I needed Nikolai Vetrov.

Chapter 3

Elena’s POV:

If I was wrong about Nikolai Vetrov’s intentions, the worst that could happen was that I would embarrass myself. That was nothing compared to what was at stake. But if I didn’t do anything—if I didn’t at least try to ask for his help—and my mother’s condition worsened, or worse…

I knew I would regret it for the rest of my life.

I exhaled sharply, forcing my shaky legs to push me upright.

That’s it then.

I had made my choice.

Pulling out my phone, I searched for the address of Vetrov Enterprises. I had been there once or twice before, back when Dmitri would take me out for lunch at one of the high-end restaurants near his brother’s office. But I didn’t remember the exact address.

At least I knew Nikolai wasn’t out of the country.

I glanced down at my outfit—a simple black dress, the same one I had worn earlier at my dad’s funeral. My hair was still tied into a low bun, strands falling loose from hours of exhaustion.

I looked like a grieving woman.

Which, in many ways, I was.

I was mourning the death of my father, the life I thought I would have, the man I thought loved me and the security I had believed in.

Now, I had nothing.

Except for this one insane, desperate plan.

— 30 minutes later —

The towering glass building of Vetrov Enterprises loomed before me, its sharp edges piercing the dawn sky.

The city was still asleep, the streets nearly deserted, but this place—this empire Nikolai built with his own hands—was already awake at four o'clock in the morning.

A few luxury cars lined the private parking area, their sleek exteriors gleaming under the streetlights.

I inhaled deeply, steeling myself.

I knew I probably wouldn’t be able to see him right away. CEOs don’t stroll into work at four in the morning. But I had no choice. I would leave my number with the receptionist and pray that Nikolai would agree to meet me.

There was no way I could ask Dmitri for his brother’s number.

Not when I was about to do this.

I pushed through the heavy glass doors and stepped into the lobby.

The receptionist at the front desk—a well-dressed woman in her late twenties— looked up from her computer screen, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw me.

“Are you Miss Elena?”

I frowned. “You know me?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Ah, yes. Sir told me to send you up.”

My heart stopped.

What?

I stared at her, my pulse hammering in my ears. Had he… anticipated my arrival?

No. That wasn’t possible.

How would he know?

My hands curled into fists, my heartbeat racing.

The receptionist smiled and handed me a key card. “Take the elevator to the twenty-seventh floor. He’s expecting you.”

I nodded slowly, forcing myself to act normal as I took the card and walked toward the elevator.

My mind was spiraling.

Was this just a coincidence? Had he expected me to come?

Or… had he known all along that this day would come? No…that didn’t make sense. How would he know that I needed money for my mother’s bypass in advance?

There was another more plausible reason that swirled in my mind…was he somehow stalking me?

I swallowed hard, shaking off the thought as I stepped into the empty elevator.

That was ridiculous though. Why would someone like him have a need to do that?

The moment the doors slid shut, I let out a shaky breath and pressed my back against the cold metal wall.

Calm down. Keep it together.

I tapped the key card against the panel. The elevator hummed to life, carrying me higher and higher.

Maybe it was just my imagination or nervousness but the air felt thinner the closer I got.

Twenty-fifth floor.

Twenty-sixth.

Twenty-seventh.

A soft chime echoed, and the doors glided open.

There was only one office here.

A massive, double-door entrance at the end of the dimly lit hallway.

And sitting just outside it, a man—his posture straight as he typed away at his laptop. Nikolai’s secretary?

As soon as he saw me, he stood up and gestured toward the doors.

“Sir is waiting for you, Miss Kovalyova.” He smiled and moved to open the door for me.

I nodded, thanking him as I stepped inside, my gaze immediately landing on the man behind the desk.

Nikolai Vetrov sat in his massive leather chair, flipping through a file as if he hadn’t just called me here before I even made the decision to come.

His dark eyes flicked up from his papers, locking onto me.

The man was unfairly attractive.

He looked unbothered, composed. His expensive suit was perfectly fitted, the top button of his shirt undone, revealing a glimpse of tattoos peeking from his collar.

The picture-perfect CEO.

And I was standing frozen in front of him.

“Good morning,” he said smoothly, his voice deep.

The last time we had talked, I had drank alcohol so it hadn’t felt like this, and before that, the couple of times we ran into each other we hadn’t conversed at all.

I took a breath, forcing down my nerves. “Morning.”

“Have a seat.”

I did, trying to keep my posture straight and confident despite the storm raging inside me.

“Tea or coffee?” he asked.

“Neither. I’m fine.”

Nikolai frowned slightly before picking up the telecom. “Send in a pumpkin spice latte.”

My body went rigid.

How… did he know my favorite drink?

He leaned back, watching me with something close to amusement. "Don't think too much. Dmitri talks a lot about you."

My stomach tightened.

Hearing my ex-fiancé’s name out loud felt like a punch to the ribs. But I refused to show it.

Instead, I kept my gaze trained on Nikolai. “You know what he did, don’t you?”

He smirked.

"I warned you, didn't I? He isn't husband material."

I clenched my fists ignoring his remark for now. “Why do you hate Dmitri?”

His smirk didn’t fade. "Hate? No, I don't hate him. But I dislike him."

I narrowed my eyes.

"He's spoiled. Daddy’s little treasure. He’s never suffered a day in his life. Never had to fight for anything. He thinks with his head, but not the one on his shoulders."

Nikolai motioned toward his crotch.

I bit down on my tongue, feeling the urge to refute him.

But could I?

I had seen it with my own two eyes.

Dmitri was exactly what Nikolai described.

"After all," Nikolai continued, "if he had any brains, he wouldn’t have fumbled someone like you."

A sharp, hot sensation crawled up my spine.

This was it. This was my opening.

I lifted my chin. "I have an offer for you."

His eyes flickered with interest.

"Marry me. Give me enough money to save my mother. In return, I’ll give you a wife on paper. And a way to make your little brother a laughing stock."

For the first time, Nikolai froze.

I watched as he leaned back, studying me. Then, his lips curled.

"You're pretty straightforward. I expected you to take more time to come around."

My fingers dug into my lap. “I don’t have time for that. My mother needs emergency Bypass surgery. Are you willing to help me or not?”

I was probably glaring at him now.

A moment of silence stretched between us.

Then—

"If I say no… will you go back and ask Dmitri for money?"

A wry smile spread across my face.

“He isn’t the only member of the Vetrov family I can go to, you know,” I said, my voice laced with something dangerous. “After all, I know Daddy Vetrov has certain tendencies toward girls half his age.”

I was pushing my limits.

But I had a hunch.

A dangerous, reckless hunch.

That Nikolai Vetrov was interested in me.

Chapter 4

Elena’s POV:

As expected, Nikolai Vetrov went rigid.

His sharp, composed expression didn’t falter, but something in his posture shifted. His dark eyes locked onto mine, piercing, calculating—assessing me.

Then, he stood up. Slowly.

“You really are something, you know that?” His voice was smooth, almost amused, but there was an underlying challenge in his tone.

“Fine then.” He leaned against his desk, arms crossed. “But tell me, Elena—what else are you willing to give? Because making Dmitri a laughingstock? That’s not difficult for me.”

He smirked. “I could do that without marrying you.”

He was right. He truly didn’t need me for that.

But I needed him.

My wedding with Dmitri was set for three months from now. If I didn’t get married, I would be the one people laughed at. My friends, my classmates, the very people who had seen me flaunt my relationship on social media for years.

The image of Dmitri’s betrayal and his pathetic excuses burned in my mind.

My stomach twisted. I wanted him to suffer.

That’s when I realized—this wasn’t just about saving my mother. If I only needed money for that I could just borrow it from him. Not just him, I could go back to the loan sharks and take more money from them.

They wouldn’t decline me, in fact they would only be happy to see me paying back my debts for the rest of my life.

So yes, I wanted to destroy Dmitri.

I wanted to rip him apart from the inside.

Make him feel even a fraction of what I had felt when I walked in on him with someone else.

I inhaled deeply, staring at Nikolai.

If he wasn’t going to marry me, he was useless to me.

“I’ll give you a wife on paper and nothing more,” I said firmly. “I have nothing else to give.”

That was the truth…or so I thought.

Silence stretched between us.

Then Nikolai got up, his movements slow, deliberate.

His eyes narrowed as he approached, his steps measured, predatory. The air between us grew heavy, thick with an intensity I wasn’t prepared for.

I forced my body to stay still, my heart pounding loudly in my chest.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke.

"You want to marry me and have my name, Elena?"

His breath grazed my ear, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.

"Then you’ll take everything that comes with it."

My eyes widened slightly. “What… do you mean?”

He smiled, his fingers gripping the arms of my chair as he turned it to face him completely.

Our noses almost touched. Our breaths almost intertwined.

"Everything," he murmured. "My money. My fame. And even my body."

My breath hitched.

But I shook my head. No. No, I couldn’t do that.

“I want a strictly contractual marriage. With a time limit,” I said, my voice steady, but my hands clenched into fists.

His lips curled into a smirk. "And a contract marriage is what you’ll get. No feelings. No strings attached. One year.”

I narrowed my eyes, “I won’t sleep with you.” I truly didn’t trust myself around a man like him. If I actually slept with him, what if I developed feelings? No…not again. Especially not a Vetrov.

His next words however knocked the air right out of my lungs.

"Oh, no, I need you to understand this, Malishka. There will be no sleeping. Only fucking."

My entire body stiffened.

He leaned closer, his voice smooth, teasing. "I will fuck you. If you can accept that… then I will make sure Dmitri grovels at your feet. I’ll ensure your mother’s surgery is done by the world’s best surgeon.

He straightened, studying my reaction before he delivered the final blow.

"And I’ll make sure you never have to work a part-time job again. You’ll have all the time in the world to study—to build your dream of making cars."

My pulse thundered.

He listed everything I needed. Everything I ever wanted.

If my mother fully recovered, she wouldn’t be upset with this decision. I could focus on my studies. Graduate without worrying about money.

And all I had to do… was give myself to a man built like a Greek god?

What other choice did I have? The loan sharks? Dmitri? Any other rich old guy, someone way worse than Nikolai?

It would be stupid to decline.

But my body was frozen.

My mind was racing.

Could I really do this? Could I really sell my body to this man for a year?

I bit my lip, his unwavering stare making my heart pound.

After what felt like forever, I inhaled deeply, forcing my thoughts to clear.

Finally, I met his gaze head-on.

"Fine. I accept your conditions."

I squared my shoulders. "But if you go back on your word, Nikolai—I will ruin you."

I didn’t know how I would do it.

But I would find a way.

I believed in myself.

…At least, in my follicular phase.

Nikolai chuckled, his smirk widening.

"You have my permission to do so."

Finally, he pulled away, straightening his suit as he glanced at his watch. Then, his gaze flickered back to me.

"Shall we go then?"

I frowned. “Go where?”

“Well, there’s much to be done if we’re getting married today.”

My eyes widened. "You mean… right now? Today?!"

He smirked. "You know what they say, malishka. The early bird—”

“I need to go to the hospital,” I cut his nonsense off.

His smirk faded.

I took a deep breath. "I need to be with my mom. I can’t just leave her like this."

He sighed, studying me for a long moment.

"Are you going to perform the surgery?"

I blinked. "What?"

"No?" He raised an eyebrow. "Then why do you need to be there?"

I clenched my jaw. "Because she’s my mother. I’m her only immediate family. I need to be there for her."

Nikolai rubbed his temple, exhaling sharply. “Fine. We’ll take care of her first. Give me a moment.”

Then, right in front of me, he pulled out his phone, dialed a number, and put it on speaker.

"Prepare the operating room," he ordered.

My breath caught.

There was a pause, then a voice responded. "Sir?"

"I'm sending you a patient. Her name is Beatrix Kovalyova. Make sure you’re prepared to perform a bypass procedure. You are to treat her as a V.I.P patient. Nothing but the best."

I stared at him, stunned.

The person on the line hesitated, then cleared their throat.

"Understood, sir. May I ask who the patient is to you?"

Nikolai's gaze flickered to me.

Then, smoothly, he said, "My mother-in-law."

My breath hitched.

The doctor on the line hesitated—then let out a soft chuckle.

"Congratulations on the marriage, Mr. Vetrov."

Nikolai smiled. "Thank you."

I looked at him, completely dumbfounded.

What.

The.

Hell?

Chapter 5

Elena’s POV:

Nikolai buttoned his lapel with a smooth, practiced motion and strode toward the door. His movements were always so smooth, always composed, as if the world bent to his command without question.

I hurried to follow him, my heels clicking softly against the marble floor. "Where are you going?"

He barely glanced at me as he pressed the elevator button. "You wanted to see your mother, didn’t you?"

I blinked, nodding. "Yes, but—" My brows furrowed. "You’re coming with me? Don’t you have work?"

I cast a glance back at his secretary, who immediately looked away as if pretending not to eavesdrop.

Nikolai smirked as the elevator doors slid open. "You know," he mused, stepping inside and waiting for me to follow, "there’s something my late mother used to say. Family always comes first."

I hesitated before stepping in, standing a careful distance from him.

Family.

That word sat uncomfortably in my chest.

Because everyone knew the story of the Vetrov family scandal—how Andrey Vetrov, one of the richest men in Alderidge, had cheated on his wife and brought home a pregnant mistress—Dmitri’s mother. Though that was decades ago.

I gave him a sideways glance, unsure how to respond.

As if sensing my thoughts, he continued, "Not that it helped her much. After all, her choice in men was just as bad as yours."

My lips twitched. "Well, I’m marrying you now, aren’t I?"

He turned his head and gave me a look. The kind that made me feel positively stupid.

"Who said I was a good choice?" he murmured.

I grinned. "Do you know how to cook?" I asked, remembering his remarks back at the birthday party.

He raised a brow, clearly surprised by the question. "Of course I do. I’m not incompetent."

"Do you manage your money well?"

He scoffed. "Would I be a billionaire if I didn’t?"

"That doesn’t make you a good man?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "No, it doesn’t."

I huffed, crossing my arms. "Well, on the bright side, you're only going to be my husband for one year, right? So it doesn’t really matter to me whether you’re a good man or not."

From the corner of my eye, I saw him tilt his head slightly, his gaze lingering on me for a second longer than necessary.

Then he exhaled a quiet, almost amused, "Right."

The Next Few Hours Felt Like a Storm.

Nikolai didn’t talk much. He only did.

His presence alone moved things faster than I could have ever imagined.

The medical fees? Paid immediately.

The transfer to the most elite hospital in the city? Handled without a single complication.

The moment the new surgeon arrived, he greeted me with a professional nod and a calm reassurance, "Rest assured, Mrs. Vetrov. I will do my very best for your mother."

I exhaled slowly, my chest loosening for the first time in what felt like ages.

The relief was overwhelming.

Then, as the surgeon disappeared behind the doors of the operating room, something inside me cracked.

The view was so familiar. One that I had witnessed only a couple days ago. When Dad got into an accident. But he never made it out alive.

George Anderson had been a foreigner, a tourist visiting Velhaven City when he met my mother thirteen years ago. And in just a year, they had married.

He was the best father I could have ever asked for.

I had been lucky—so incredibly lucky.

When I was six, I was adopted by Beatrix Kovalyova after years in an orphanage that I barely remembered. My memories of that place had become hazy over time, like a bad dream I had long since tried to forget.

But Mom and Dad?

They were my reality. My safe haven.

And now—

Now I was alone.

For the first time in my life after six, neither of them were beside me.

The reality of it hit me hard.

I was twenty-five. Not a child. Not young anymore. More than an adult.

But I didn’t feel like one.

I still felt small, still felt like a little girl reaching out for her mother’s hand.

Please be okay, Mom.

I didn't think I’d survive if she didn’t.

I tried to push the thought away, but it settled in my chest like a weight I couldn't shake.

Then—

A deep voice cut through my spiraling thoughts.

"She’ll be okay. Don’t worry."

I blinked, glancing to my side.

Nikolai was sitting next to me, his expression solemn for the first time ever.

I exhaled slowly, straightening my back. "Let’s sign the contract tonight." My voice was quieter than I intended. "We can hold an official wedding later if you want." After all, I owed it to him after he just paid all the bills.

Not to mention that this surgeon would probably charge more than just fifty eight thousand.

He nodded, his gaze still fixed ahead. "Alright. That works for me."

"You should leave," I murmured. "I’ll come to your office by the evening."

He raised a brow. "Trying to get rid of me?"

I sighed. "I just need time to ask for a few days of extra leave from college. I also need to call my manager and let her know I won’t be covering my shifts tomorrow."

His gaze darkened slightly at that.

I hesitated before adding, "I should probably quit, but… I’m used to being independent. Besides, I still have other debts to pay off."

Nikolai leaned back slightly. "I assumed those debts would be cleared once we’re married."

"They will be," I admitted. "But still…"

I trailed off, biting my lip.

I didn’t mention the real reason I had been so obsessed with clearing those debts myself.

Because I knew.

I knew that the original loan—the principal amount—had been paid years ago.

But the interest kept increasing.

And the stress that came with it?

That’s what killed George.

A sixty-three-year-old man under that kind of pressure?

I clenched my fists.

Had I not been born with a heart condition…

Had I not needed that transplant…

Would he have to work so hard?

Wouldn’t he still be alive?

I swallowed the guilt lodged in my throat.

"Earth to Elena."

I snapped out of my daze as Nikolai snapped his fingers in front of me.

I blinked. "What?"

He frowned. "I’ll send the driver to pick you up by seven in the evening."

I nodded absentmindedly, watching as he got up.

But then—

He paused.

Turned around.

And before I could react—

He reached for my hand.

I frowned, staring at him in confusion—until I felt it.

A light tug.

My breath caught in my throat.

He had taken my engagement ring.

Dmitri’s ring.

Holding it between his fingers, Nikolai smirked.

"I’ll be taking this now."

I stared at him, stunned.

"You don’t have any use for it, I’m sure," he murmured, eyes glinting with something dangerous.

And then—

He did something that made my heart nearly leap out of my chest.

He bent down and kissed the inside of my wrist.

Right over my pulse.

Right over the spot where my heart beat the loudest.

I could faintly hear the whispers in the waiting room.

I was still frozen in place, my mind struggling to process what had just happened, when he lifted his head and smirked down at me.

"See you tonight, Malishka."

I swallowed hard, my face warm.

"A—alright," I stammered, completely flustered.

And just like that—

He turned and walked away.

Leaving me with a racing pulse and an empty ring finger.