Chapter 38
Nikolai’s POV:
下北
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The wooden stairs creaked softly beneath our steps, each one echoing into a quiet that felt deeper the higher we climbed. As we reached the second floor, something about the air shifted. The scent of warm spices faded into the background, replaced by the faint smell of sandalwood and aged
timber.
There were only two rooms upstairs and a small landing area between them, dimly lit by a single wall sconce. One room sat directly ahead, the door slightly ajar. I guessed that one was Elena’s. But it was the room to the right that Beatrix gestured toward, and I followed her lead.
She walked slower now, careful with her steps. Still, there was a quiet strength in the way she held herself upright.
When we entered her room, I paused.
It was modest but cozy–a space that clearly hadn’t changed in years. The carpet was a soft beige, stretching wall to wall, muffling every sound. The walls were painted a gentle cream that glowed in the low light of the bedside lamp. A white wrought–iron bed stood in the center, neatly made, with an embroidered throw folded at the foot.
On the far wall, I spotted two framed photographs that caught my eye.
One was clearly of Beatrix and George’s wedding. With a younger looking version of her smiling as she leaned into George’s embrace and he smiled down at her lovingly. Not even looking at the camera.
The other picture was of Beatrix and the same man–a little older but still tall, broad–shouldered, with Elena between them, grinning as they kissed her cheeks at what looked like her sixteenth or seventeenth birthday. Her arms were thrown around their necks, and her smile was so wide I could almost hear her laugh.
I looked away.
I didn’t want to be that kind of man. The kind who let envy slither into his chest when it had no place being there.
But the ache…
It settled low and slow in my gut.
“Jealous?”
My gaze snapped back to Beatrix. She was already seated on the bed, her head tilted slightly, studying me. Her expression had lost the earlier
warmth.
“Excuse me?” I asked, caught off guard.
“You heard me,” she said. “I can see it in your eyes, you know. Every time Elena talks about her father. Or smiles at me the way she does. You go quiet. Your eyes grow distant.”
I swallowed hard, the guilt prickling at the back of my throat.
“It’s not my intention to be disrespectful,” I said, my voice low. “I just…”
“Feel it anyway,” she finished. Then, with a soft chuckle, she added, “I didn’t bring it up to make you feel guilty. What you’re feeling is normal. In fact, it’s one of the reasons I can tell you’re nothing like Dmitri. He never thought twice before trampling over someone else’s feelings, just to make himself feel better.”
I stayed quiet, unsure how to respond. Because that’s not how imagined her to feel about him.
Beatrix leaned back against the pillows. “To be honest… I never thought Dmitri was right for Elena. I tried to tell her, in the beginning. But she was so happy. So convinced. I couldn’t bring myself to take that away from her. She really loved him.”
A tight knot twisted in my stomach. Why was she enunciating that?
“If I’m being honest, had I told her to leave him,” she continued, “she would have. That’s just the kind of daughter she is. But I didn’t want her to think I was oppressing her. So I said nothing, thinking she would eventually learn.”
I don’t know why that stung.
“Why didn’t you tell her not to marry me then?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.
The words hung between us, too sharp and too raw. What the hell was I doing?
Beatrix didn’t flinch. Her eyes met mine, calm and steady.
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8:42 PM
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Chapter 38
“I actually asked her a similar question. I asked her if she’d leave you, if I told her to.” she said. “Do you know what she told me?” She paused her gaze narrowing and I clenched my fists, waiting for her to continue but when she didn’t, I finally gritted out, “What?”
Smiled wryly then, “She said that I wouldn’t be so cruel as to ask her for that.”
A chill moved through me.
“In a way, she stood her ground for the first time in her life, without disrespecting me or hurting me.” Beatrix continued. “And that… that hurt more than her saying no. Because I knew she meant it. I had no choice but to accept it–to watch my daughter give her life away to someone eight years older, from a family full of unfaithful bastards.”
The last words hit hard, but I didn’t deny them. I couldn’t. Because she wasn’t wrong.
“Nikolai,” she said, her voice lower now, almost stern. “Don’t take me for a fool. If you really loved her, you would’ve done more to prevent what happened at that wedding. You had the power to keep your family away. So tell me, why didn’t you? Why let them disrespect my daughter like
that?”
The accusation was subtle. But not undeserved.
“Did you
ask Elena about it?” I asked finally.
Beatrix frowned. “Of course not. Why would I burden her with that? I didn’t even talk to her about the news articles being published.”
I let out a slow breath then. Not of relief…but of regret, maybe even a hint of shame. That I was about to do this.
“It was her idea,” I lied.
Her brows lifted then.
“She wanted them to be there. She wanted Dmitri to see her and regret everything. If it were up to me, they never would have known too late. I didn’t even tell my family who I was marrying
Beatrix studied me, her expression unreadable.
“I love her,” I said, softer now. “Yes, maybe I pursued her when she was vulnerable. But she’s twenty–five. She made her own decision.”
until
it was
Beatrix didn’t reply, just looked at me. Her eyes were sharp and I swallowed. My fingers twitch. I honestly didn’t understand why I was trying hard to keep Elena’s mother from becoming suspicious.
SO
Would I have gone this far for someone else? Why does it matter to me if Elena’s mother learned of the truth, that Elena gave herself to me for a year? The only downside was that it would hurt Elena, even then, the contract was already signed….she couldn’t back out now.
Then my eyes widen and I suddenly feel like slapping myself.
What the hell was wrong with me? How could I even think in such a way? I wasn’t that much of an asshole, was I? Of course I wouldn’t want to hurt Elena this way….or anyone for that matter.
And… Beatrix was a good mother after all. Lying to her like this didn’t exactly feel good. If this was my mother would I have the strength to lie to
her?
No. Probably not.
Which made Elena so much stronger than me.
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