Bound by lies Trapped by Desire novel Chapter 66

Chapter 66

Elena’s POV:

My heart sank at Nikolai’s words.

He was afraid of my IUD failing?

He hadn’t said it outright, not in a cruel way. But it was in his tone, the way his voice had gone tight. It didn’t feel right. Not coming from him.

I mean, yeah–I didn’t want kids either. Not now. Not yet. I had no plans of having them, not unless I had a proper job, a plan, a future that didn’t feel like it was being held together by duct tape and a dream. Kids were a huge responsibility. A forever kind of thing. Not something you did when your life was

this… messy.

But still. The way he’d looked when he asked. That flicker of something like dread in his eyes. It gnawed at me.

I sighed, pushing the thought aside and pulling my dress over my head. My fingers ran along the smooth collar, adjusting it until it sat perfectly against my throat. The soft fabric clung to my frame, covering every bruise Nikolai had lovingly, sinfully, carved into me the night before. My fingers hesitated over the gloves–sleek black satin, the ones Nikolai had ordered for me just last night. They’d already arrived. Folded neatly in a box.

I slid them on slowly, flexing my fingers as the cool fabric hugged my hands. What kind of express hell–magic delivery service did he even use?

Probably cost more than my last semester’s tuition. But then again, this was Nikolai Vetrov. Where the rich didn’t wait–they just snapped and the world rearranged itself for them.

Ariana’s voice drifted through my head. “I want it, I got it.”

I snorted, amused at myself. Oh god, I’m quoting pop lyrics now. My brain is mush.

My hair was twisted into a claw clip, still slightly damp from my shower. No makeup, just lip balm and a dab of moisturizer. The black polo dress hugged me in the right places without feeling too tight, the soft collar dipping modestly, and the sleeves resting snug against my arms. It hid the bruises on my collarbone perfectly. Stockings covered the worst of the marks on my thighs. Nobody needed to know how wild last night had been.

I stepped into the elevator, smoothing my dress as the doors closed. I exhaled slowly, staring at my reflection in the metal wall.

Even now, J still wasn’t used to this.

Not just the elevator–though yeah, that too–but everything. Being driven places. Not needing to walk three kilometers just to catch a bus. Not fighting for a seat, or juggling three jobs just to eat and pay for textbooks. It felt… foreign. Like I was wearing someone else’s life and it hadn’t quite fit yet.

As I stepped into the SUV waiting downstairs, the driver–an older man with salt–and–pepper hair and kind eyes–nodded respectfully and opened the door for me. “Ma’am.”

God, that still weirds me out.

The vehicle was warm, comfortable. Smelled faintly of leather and cologne. We pulled out of the lot and the city passed by in blurs of steel and glass.

My mind drifted.

Once, back when I was still juggling late pottery classes and sprinting to catch the bus for my lectures, I’d crashed into a man outside a café. I’d been rushing like an idiot, caffeine–deprived, with dried clay on my sleeve and my earbuds blasting lo–fi beats. I didn’t see him until I was basically chest- slamming his frappuccino to the ground.

He looked like a corporate ad model–tailored coat, phone in hand, surprise written all over his face.

And me? I’d been so rude to him. I’d told the man to look where he was going I think. Even though I’d been the one to run into him. I was in a hurry though, so I probably said something worse and ran off like my ass was on fire to catch my bus.

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13:16 Fri, 25 Jul G G

Chapter 66

I never saw him again.

Sometimes I wondered what he thought of me. Probably cursed me out for ruining his outfit. Or maybe he laughed about it. I wouldn’t know. Never even got a good look at him. Not really. I did feel guilty about it even now though. Maybe if I remembered his face I’d go apologize, maybe buy him coffee too.

That thought lingered as the SUV pulled up outside Mom’s house. The driver nodded again. “I’ll be nearby if you need me, ma’am.”

“Thanks,” I said softly, stepping out onto the pavement.

The moment I turned to climb the steps, a chill crawled up the back of my neck. Like ice melting under my skin.

paused, rubbing the back of my neck automatically. My fingers twitched, almost reaching for the collar of my dress. It felt like something had just touched me. No–bitten me. Sharp and fleeting.

I turned.

Nothing.

The street was calm. Still. Just the occasional passing car, the distant rustle of a newspaper flapping in someone’s yard. Mrs. Bellamy, the retired florist next door, was watering her porch plants in her lavender housecoat.

I scanned the tree line, the bushes, the empty sidewalk. No one was watching. But my gut told a different story.

This didn’t feel like paparazzi. Or Nikolai’s guards. Or even curious neighbors. This felt… wrong. Like something unseen or ominous was staring from the shadows. Even though it was day time. And I hated that I couldn’t pinpoint it.

I rolled my shoulders and forced myself to keep walking.

Don’t let paranoia ruin à good day, I told myself.

But the unease didn’t leave.

Inside, the scent of lentils and kebabs smacked me like a heavenly punch to the face.

“Oh god,” I moaned under my breath, stepping out of my shoes. “That smells divine.”

I followed the scent trail like a possessed bloodhound straight to the kitchen. And there she was.

Mom, standing with her back to me in her apron. Their apron.

The one I’d given her and Dad on their anniversary. A cheesy red–and–white number with “Soulmates in the Kitchen” stitched across the chest. There had been two, his and hers.

Only hers remained now.

A sudden ache squeezed my chest. I stopped in the doorway.

She turned just as I lunged forward, wrapping my arms around her from behind. I buried my face in her shoulder.

She stiffened in surprise, then relaxed into the hug. “Elena?” she murmured, confused but smiling. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I just missed you,” I said, voice muffled in her shirt.

I didn’t tell her the real reason. That my heart felt too full. That I’d imagined her apron one day hanging lonely on a hook, like Dad’s did now. That I wasn’t ready for the day when memories were all I had.

We stayed like that for a long second before she chuckled and swatted my arm gently. “Alright, drama queen. Let me get the kebabs off the grill before they turn to charcoal.”

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Chapter 66

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