Chapter 37
Elena’s POV:
“Are you fucking insane?!” I blurted, my voice nearly cracking with disbelief. My hands trembled just slightly as I cradled the dish of steaming biryani, and I threw him a look like he’d grown two heads. I didn’t even try to hide the horror on my face.
Nikolai just leaned back against the kitchen counter, a smug glint in his eyes, then burst out laughing–that full–bodied laugh that started deep in his chest and spilled out until it filled the entire room. I glared at him, still stuck on what he’d whispered in my ear just moments ago, and turned on my heel.
He followed me out of the kitchen with a mischievous grin. Meanwhile, I walked straight to the dining
room, trying to pretend like I hadn’t just imagined all the ways my mother would look at me if she’d heard what he said. Oh god that would be so embarrassing. I wanted to erase the mental image of it from my head. Bleach my ears.
I set the dish of rice on the wooden dining table, which was neatly covered with a pale yellow cloth decorated with tiny embroidered flowers. I pointedly ignored Nikolai as I muttered, “Bring the jug of water from the fridge.”
He gave me a knowing look, as though he knew I was trying to run away. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, still wearing that damn grin as he disappeared back into the kitchen.
sighed and went back to grab a separate bowl, ladling in soft congee for Mom–she still couldn’t handle anything spicy because of the operation. I placed it carefully on the table beside her usual seat.
We settled down at the small four–seater dining table. I took the seat opposite Mom, and Nikolai sat beside me. The third seat remained empty, George’s seat. The absence hit me like a fist to the ribs, sudden and heavy when I accidentally set an extra plate in his place. My throat tightened. Mom’s gaze flickered there too, and for a second, we both seemed to drift into our own quiet silences.
As if sensing the shift in the air, Nikolai took a bite of the biryani I had already served out for him, and let out a low groan of approval. “Oh my God. This is incredible,” he said, eyes wide. “Spicy. But incredible. Damn, Malishka, I think I’m in love.”
I rolled my eyes at him, grateful for the distraction.
“Why would you make something so spicy when you don’t even like spicy food?” he asked with a frown, turning his head toward me and then to
Mom.
Mom smiled, wiping her mouth gently with a napkin. “She didn’t like spicy food when she was little,” she said, chuckling. “But once she hit sixteen, she became obsessed with biryani. That’s when I realized her taste buds had finally matured.”
I mock–glared. “So you’re saying spicy food is a sign of maturity?”
“Absolutely,” Mom replied, her tone matter–of–fact. “Which is why I still prefer Mexican food–lots of flavor.”
I sighed and shook my head, “Actually, Biryani is one of the only spicy foods that I enjoy!”
Nikolai smiled, “Yeah, I was wondering how you like Turkish food. Since it’s bland and all.”
I mock–gasped, “Don’t disrespect Turkish food like that, spice doesn’t mean flavor you know?”
Mom shook her head, continuing to sip her congee.
“What about you? Any favorite dishes?” I asked, curious.
He shook his head, then shrugged. “I don’t think I have one.”
I frowned. “How’s that even possible? Everyone has a favorite.”
He paused, glancing between us, then gave a half–smile. “Maybe I discovered it today. The chai. The biryani. Both are amazing.”
I blinked at him. For a moment, the warmth of his voice didn’t quite match the look in his eyes. Something flickered there. Something off.
But before I could say anything, the television–which had been murmuring quietly in the background–shifted to a more urgent tone. It seemed mom had switched to the news channel earlier.
“Breaking news,” the anchor said. “Another murder has occurred in Velhaven City, making it the third in the past two weeks. Authorities now believe a serial killer may be responsible.”
I turned toward the screen, my spoon frozen halfway to my mouth.
*All victims have been women of color, all in their mid–twenties, the anchor continued gravely. “Authorities are urging caution. The killer remains at large.”
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8:42
Chapter 37
The room fell into a weighted silence.
Mom clutched her spoon a little tighter. “Elena, you need to be extra careful.
Don’t stay out too late. Always keep someone informed.”
I nodded slowly, frowning a little. A serial killer in Velhaven City??
was
one
sit right with me.
of
the
+28
most safest cities in all of alderidge. Something about it didn’t
Nikolai looked at me with a thoughtful glance before I hooked my brow and he shook his head, continuing to eat.
Once dinner ended, Mom looked at Nikolai. “You should stay the night. It’s already dark, and who knows what kind of people are out there now.”
Nikolai didn’t even hesitate. “If you’ll have me, I’d be happy to.”
He turned to me with a sly look, and I rolled my eyes even as my ears heated up remembering his words in the kitchen. Of course he’d be happy.
I stood and began clearing the table. “Don’t get too excited. You’re sleeping on the couch.” I was only putting on a show for mom, and we both knew that. I just didn’t like the idea of her knowing we’d be tangling in the bed sheets with her room right across the hall.
Nikolai smirked and made no move to argue.
As I returned to gather the remaining plates, Mom suddenly called out, “Nikolai, could you help me upstairs?”
I blinked. She had her wheelchair, but she was standing now with her hand resting on the arm of the dining chair, clearly waiting.
Nikolai raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting the request. But he nodded and offered his arm, guiding her toward the stairs with slow, careful steps
They walked together, her form not frail just weakened, leaning gently into his side. My eyes followed them until they turned the corner, disappearing from view.
A strange sensation sat in my chest.
Why had she asked for him? I knew she wouldn’t have done that if not for an ulterior motive.
I rinsed the dishes slowly, the sound of running water barely loud enough to drown out the echo of questions beginning to pile in my head.
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