Chapter 32
Elena’s POV:
My thumb hovered over the screen of my phone, my eyes wide, scrolling through what looked like a digital wildfire.
“What the hell,” I muttered, and my voice didn’t sound like mine.
Nikolai turned from the counter again, spatula in hand, raising a brow at me.
Told you to be prepared,” he said nonchalantly, flipping the last golden waffle onto the pristine white plate.
I blinked at the screen again.
“STOLEN BRIDE?” The title flashed at me in bold, tabloid–style font above a photograph that was unmistakably us. Him, in his tailored suit, carrying me bridal–style through the lobby, my face half–hidden in his chest like a proper damsel. It was cinematic. Too cinematic. There were zoomed in pictures, videos with blurred thumbnails, people commenting things like “omg goals” and “seems toxic but hot.” I was literally trending.
I held the phone up to him.
“You knew this would happen and
you still carried me?!”
Nikolai barely blinked, setting the plate down with ease, “Is it wrong though?”
My mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.
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“I don’t care if it’s wrong or right, Nikolai. I’m going to university today! I thought I would have to deal with just a couple rumors…not a full–blown article headlined STOLEN BRIDE?!”
He snorted like I was being unreasonable, like I hadn’t just had my life thrown onto a silver platter for social media vultures to feast on.
“You were hoping for too much then, Malishka. You married a billionaire. Did you think people would just… ignore that?”
He crossed the distance between us before I could even get out another word and caged me against the counter. His hands braced on either side of my hips. I tried to stay mad, but it was difficult when his scent was a mix of coffee, vanilla, and his deodorant. Which gave me flashbacks of last night. Before everything with Dmitri happened.
He picked up a piece of waffle from my plate which I had forgotten about, dragging it through syrup before holding it up
him.
to my lips. I stared at
“Seriously?”
“Eat. You’re going to need the sugar.”
I hesitated, then took the bite, mostly because I was hungry but also because his eyes were doing that thing where they made it hard to argue.
Damn him.
“Is this going to keep happening?” I asked, my voice muffled through the bite. “Like, should I be worried about stalkers now?”
He smirked, brushing his thumb along the corner of my mouth to wipe a dot of syrup. His touch was too gentle. “You don’t need to worry about that. I’ll take care of any other stalkers.”
I raised a brow, chewing slowly. “Other stalkers? So you’re going to keep stalking me?”
He didn’t even flinch.
“I’m your husband. I have the right to stalk you.”
My heart did that annoying fluttery thing again and I tried to swat it down. “Temporary husband,” I muttered, crossing my arms.
“But still your husband, he teased, leaning in just enough that I had to tilt my head back.
Ipointed at his chest. “Why the hell are your shirtless in the kitchen?”
He looked down at himself as if he’d forgotten. “I’m not naked. I’m wearing sweats. And an apron.”
“Naked on top.
He grinned. “Don’t I look hot? I thought you’d jump me the moment you saw me like this,”
I rolled my eyes. “The only thing I’m jumping are these waffles. You really are an amazing cook though. Damn.”
1/3
Chapter 32
ཚ ༠ ༤ ཚ ངོ དེ
He preened like a cat being complimented for shredding furniture. “Don’t I deserve a reward then?”
He gave me that look. That look. The one that said he wasn’t thinking about hugs or thank–yous.
I felt my face heat up and shook my head. “I’m late for class. I already took a whole week off.”
A look of disappointment crossed his face. I almost burst into laughter.
“Hey,” I said, bumping my shoulder into his arm. “I’ll reward you later. Promise.”
His face brightened like I’d just handed him a million–dollar deal.
We cleared the plates together. I washed while he dried, our movements slipping into a quiet rhythm. Domesticity with Nikolai felt bizarrely natural.
Afterward, we headed upstairs. I grabbed a towel and turned on the shower, thinking he’d go back downstairs. Instead, he walked right in behind
“Excuse you,” I said,
I decided to be quick about the shower because if I stayed too long then his wandering hands would definitely make me give in to him. But then I’d be late to class and it was already eight.
I stepped out of the bathroom with a towel around myself realizing a problem. Before I even voiced concerns he moved past me opened the walk in closet, ushering me inside.
in a
My brows rose as I took in the whole closet. It was as big as his bedroom, with rows of clothes, shoes, bags and in the middle was a vast glass table with drawers. I didn’t have time to take in everything. The closet was obviously divided in half with women’s clothing on one side and men’s on the
other. I frown.
“Why do you have so much women’s clothing?” I asked and he looked at me like I was stupid.
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