Bound by lies Trapped by Desire novel Chapter 90

Chapter 90

That night passed fasten than linpected

But not because it was light may forgettable. No if anything, it passed fat because my brain i

thought led to another, every anayei elacked open mare questions. Trouldn’t catch a breath, couldn’t find the slanina befaren thoughts.

How had no one ever figured it out?

How had everyone missed the fact that I’d been switched at bith?” –

How did my biological mother not even realize that the baby she held if she held her at

won’t her om hlbo

Was it drugs? The traumal or was there something even darker going on?

And aber Sergei left, I couldn’t help but keep circling back to the same pi

plaza.

Could even believe him?

He was Mafia. Not just affiliated but Sergei Morozov, one of the top names in the underworld of Velhaven. A man that didn’t deal in truth. He dirat

in convenience. In manipulation. In threats and leverage and things that looked like generosity but were really just fonts.

So when he said my mother overdosed… did she?

Or did he liet

1 had no idea anymore.

And worse every time my thoughts started to drift in that direction, they inevitably took a sharp turn straight into him.

Nikolai

Was he thinking about me right now?

Oh God. No. Stop.

I literally shook my head as if trying to dislodge the thought physically. I couldn’t afford to go there. Not again. Because I’d realized–over the last law hours that the moment I started thinking about Nikola I couldn’t stop.

It was like falling into a current. One second I’d be standing on the shore, the next I’d be drowning in the memory of his voice, his hands, his eyes. The soft way he said Malishka, the way his fingertips traced circles over my spine in bed, how his laughter sounded just before he lost control.

Malishka

The nickname echoed in my skull like a ghost. I’d known what it meant the moment I heard it. It wasn’t just a pet name–it was a Russian endearment. almost childlike in tenderness, Like baby, Sweetheart Soft.

And now it felt like mockery.

Like every beautiful thing he gave me had been carved from a lie.

I sucked in a breath and pushed myself to my festi

My head throbbied. I hadn’t slept properly last right, and the consequences were catching up with me–my temples pulsed like a v felt heavy, sluggish.

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Chapter 900

looked toward the closed door of my mother’s bedroom.

she’d left early.

I could tell from the half–follte mug sitting cold in the sink, the quietness of the apartment, the lack of movement beyond the was

the hadn’t even woked me up,

laughed, but it came out dry, hollow

That was a first. She was really mad at ine.

The ache that bloomed in my chest then was different. Not like heartbreak. Not like betrayal, Just…emptiness, A quiet grief that I couldn’t shake off Because my circle had never been large–just a handful of people who mattered. And right now, the most important one was angry with me.

And the other?

The one I thought might matter?

He was probably on the other side of the city right now, in a high–rise office, going over documents, planning acquisitions. Unbothered. Uninterested. Overit

Over me.

I couldn’t stop myself from questioning every second we spent together. Was it all real? Was he ever genuine? Or had he always been playing a game?

Every time he said Malishka, was it with affection or amusement?

I wanted to believe the former. I did. Especially after I saw him cry.

But I didn’t trust myself to know the diference anymore.

I sat in that have for a few more minutes before finally dragging myself into the bathroom. I had classes. My routine was the only thing left that still made

I showered quickly, letting the hot water loosen the tension from my shoulders and rinse away the weight of the last twelvish hours. When I stepped out, I looked in the mirror and barely recognized myself

Clear eye bags, Skin sallow Eyes slightly red.

I didn’t bother with concealer. No one gave a shit. Not during exam season.

I pulled on a hoodie and jeans, slipping on my compression gloves automatically. Hair went into a ponytail, then shoved beneath the same black baseball cap I’d worn the day before. It smelled like outside air and rain, Fitting

I grabbed my bag. Slid my phone into my hoodie pocket. Gave the apartment one last long look.

Then I pulled the door open, stepped out, and locked it behind me.

The city met me with a grey sky, the kind that threatened rain but never followed through. I flagged down a bus and climbed aboard, letting the rumble of the engine and the jostling of the ride full me into a kind of blank state,

By the time I reached the university, my headache had dulled–but the emotional fatigue hadn’t

I slipped into this subject’s last class of the semester–Advanced Materials in Automotive Design. The professor was already mid–rant, gesturing wildly at a slide filled with graphs and tensile load equations.

Normally, I would’ve been scribbling notes like my scholarship depended on it.

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Chapter 90

Because & did.

But today?

Today I just… twirled my pen it slow circles.

I was the top student in my department. A scholarship recipient. A future star in engineering, if you asked any of the faculty

And here was, zoning out completely.

Ashamed wasn’t even the word. I was lost

Hooked around the lecture hall Lazar wasn’t there. Thank god. Not surprising though. He rarely showed up unless there was a guest speaker or a first. In fact his attendance had recently been way too unusually good.

Nonetheless, he always got by Money bought access. Morozov money bought everything.

He wasn’t like me.

When the lecture finally ended, the class erupted into motion. Students gathering bags, sliding out of rows, breaking into chatter about food, plans, stress. Some drifted toward the cafeteria. Others headed straight for the library across the road.

I stood slowly. Stared at the door. Then sighed.

I didn’t want to go home. Not yet..

Didn’t want to eat either. My stomach still twisted anytime thought about food.

Maybe I should find somewhere quiet to study. Do something productive. Reclaim some control.

The university had a secondary library on the third floor of the engineering wing–a smaller one, tucked away and rarely used. I headed there, letting the familiar click of my sneakers on the tile guide me.

As I walked, the halls grew quieter. The din of conversation faded, replaced by the echo of my own movement. There was something eerie about it this stillness. This stretch of hallway where nothing moved except for me.

Then I heard it.

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