Bound by lies Trapped by Desire novel Chapter 107

Reaching the door, my hand trembled slightly as I reached for the cold metal of the peephole cover. Taking a slow, deliberate breath, I slid it open and peered out into the dimly lit hallway. My eyes widened in stunned surprise at the sight that greeted me

Avast expanse of black filled the tiny circular frame. My initial thought was that someone was standing incredibly close to the door, perhaps even leaning against it. But then, as my eyes adjusted, a more peculiar image began to take shape. It was a hat. A humongous top hat, the kind one might see in an old movie or a theatrical performance. And adorning its glossy black surface was a wide gold ribbon, tied in an elaborate bow that seemed to defy pravity.

Oh hell Aunt Rose. There was no mistaking that flamboyant headwear

A wave of conflicting emotions–surprise, amusement, and a sudden burst of warmth–washed over me. Without a moment’s hesitation, I fumbled with the lock and swung the door open. The sight that greeted me confirmed my suspicions, though the reality was even more eccentric than I had imagined

Standing in the hallway was my Aunt Rose, her fiery red hair contrasting against her sparkly black pencil dress. Her brow was furrowed in a frown, her Tips pursed in an expression of annoyance. And despite the relatively cool temperature of the late afternoon, she was frantically fanning herself with a

mall, whirring electric fan, held delicately in her gloved hand, like a maniac

But despite the bizarre scene before me, a wide, genuine smile spread across my face, “Aunt Roseclaimed, my voice filled with a genuine delight that had been missing for far too long

“Oh, honey I thought no one was home” she said. She leaned in to give me two quick pecks on the chooks, her touch light but affectionate, then pushed me back slightly, a knowing look in her emerald eyes. “What took you so long to answer the door? I’ve been standing out here ringing like a department store Santa!” She then thrust a surprisingly heavy suitcase into my hands, before stepping into the hallway herself, har gaze immediately sweeping over the familiar surroundings.

It had been far too long since Fiona’s mom had litt

Ever since her messy and rather public divorce several years ago, her family had been a little… fractured. Not that any of it was her fault, of course. Her good for nothing husband had cheated, leaving her feeling hurt and betrayed. But Aunt Rose was always a resilient spirit, a bright, sassy, and utterly unique individual. She had a penchant for the dramatic, a diva–like flair, and an undeniable love for cats, a combination that led people who knew her well to jokingly land sometimes not so jokingly call her a witch. She had embraced the moniker wholeheartedly, turning it into a beloved part of her

Unfortunately, her i tanding of stereotypical witch attire seemed to be somewhat skewed, She still hadn’t quite grasped that witches traditionaly favored pointed cone hats over flamboyant top hats adorned with ribbon. To her, it was simply a fashion statement, another opportunity to express her unique style.

Despite her eccentricities, she wasn’t an actress but a business owner. A Baker at that. Me and Fiona used to eagerly anticipate going back home after playing when we were young, knowing that a delicious array of cookies, cakes, or sometimes even pies would be there,

loved Aunt Rose’s baked p

d goods

Especially the surprise ones, particularly comforting after my treatments years ago. Even though I couldn’t always eat everything she brought, just the rich, comforting smelt of her baking was enough to make the hospital feel like home.

But then she’d moved abroad five years ago, shortly after the divorce finalized, to open a new branch of her bakery in Portugal. We all knew it would be a good distraction for her, a fresh start in a new environment, even though I felt terribly sad that Fiona was losir who was already an adult and about to start university, hadn’t wanted her mom to leave either, but in the end, so room in the university dorms, while Aunt Rose left alone.

nother’s constant presence. Fiona, decided to stay in Velhaven, taking a

↑ set her surprisingly heavy suitcase down gently in the living room, and quickly made my way to the kitchen. My eyes caught the coffee machine sitting on the counter for the second time today, and a sharp pang of something pierced through me.

1 pursed my lips, a familiar wave of conflicted emotions washing over. Unfortunately, Aunt Rose didn’t drink anything but strong, black coffee, so

had no choice but to use the machine,aher all this time.

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Chapter 107

felt… strange Using this without him around. Like what had been between wan just a dream. A dream that was

sighed softly turning the machine on and listening to its familiar whir and gurgle. Then, I made my way back to the living room, only to de observing the framed picture Mom had placed on the window sill weeks agn–a photograph from my wedding day with lokotal. I from just inside the doorway, my breath catching in my throat as the frowned, her paze shiking between the picture and me

“Why is this pictures up?” the questioned, her voice sharp, the warmth from a moment ago completely gone. I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, though my heart hammered against my ribs. “Must have forgotten to take it down,” I mumbled, the excuse sounding weak even to my own dars

1 could practically feel the palpable waves of dislike radiating off her as she scrutinized the image of me standing beside Nikolai

She had developed a rather staunch man hater persona after her own painful divorce. I wasn’t at all shocked that Mom had confided in her about the details of my… situation with Nikolai, Aher all, they were best friends, their bond enduring despite the miles that had separated them. Hell, if Fionam lived with me, I probably would have told her everything too. Unfortunately…she didn’t.

I never fully understood how Mom’s deep connection with Aunt Rose had remained so strong even after being separated by an entire continent for so many years. But I supposed some friendships were simply meant to last, their foundations but on something deeper and more resilient than mere proximity.

I was genuinely happy for Mom, knowing how much she cherished Rose’s friendship.

I made my way back to the kitchen, the coffee machine now hissing as it finished brewing. I carefully poured the dark liquid into a mug and set it on the small coffee table in the living room, along with a plate of packed cupcakes and some biscuits

Aunt Rose had been roaming around the house. She finally settled onto the Eving room sofa after her exploration.

“He stayed here?” she asked abruptly, her gaze sweeping around the living room, paused in the act of reaching for a biscuit, my hand hovering in mid-

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