Chapter 70
Elena’s POV:
I blinked, then paused mid–breath, realization dawning like a spotlight. My eyes widened as I turned slowly to Nikolai, disbelief painted across my face. “Wait–do you seriously think I was saying I’m into women?”
He didn’t answer, just stared, lips twitching like he was trying not to say something stupid.
I gawked. “I didn’t mean it like that, oh my god! Not that there’s anything wrong with it,” I added quickly, because I wasn’t that sort of a person. “But I’m straight, thank you very much.”
That was when Malakai exploded into chuckles. It came out loud and sudden, catching the attention of people around us. He grinned. “Oh god, you’re so cute.”
Cute?
My cheeks flamed hotter than they had all evening. I turned back to Nikolai, who was now shooting daggers at Malakai with his eyes. If looks could kill, Malakai would’ve been a chalk outline on the floor. He lifted both hands in mock surrender, still chuckling.
Before any tension could build further, a smooth, authoritative voice cut through the air like velvet over steel.
“You said you wouldn’t be able to attend,” Seraphina’s voice said, and I turned to see her looking squarely at her brother. “Weren’t you in Miami?”
Malakai smiled, boyishly charming. “You called. How could I not come?”
Seraphina’s lips twitched into a rare, indulgent smile, and she reached up to pat his shoulder. Despite being smaller in stature, she commanded the space around her like a queen. She turned, her sharp gaze flickering to Nikolai.
“Oh, Nikolai,” she said, smiling in recognition. “No wonder I didn’t recognize you immediately–you look different. You usually wear nothing but black and white. This look…” Her eyes swept over him approvingly. “It suits you.”
“I take that as a compliment,” Nikolai replied, shaking her hand with a polite nod. He smiled, and then turned to me, motioning for my introduction.
And what did I do?
I waved.
Waved. Like a goddamn preschooler on her first school trip. I raised my hand and waved. My voice cracked like a dry twig as I managed to squeak out, “Hi
I could feel every neuron in my body shrivel in embarrassment. Just kill me. Someone just put me out of my misery. Why was I like this?
Nikolai’s chuckle behind me didn’t help. Not one bit.
“This is Elena, my wife.” he said, rubbing my back like he was soothing a startled animal. “I told you about her?”
Seraphina turned her attention on me fully, and I felt the full weight of being noticed by someone who had occupied a pedestal space in my brain since high school.
She looked me up and down slowly, and for a moment, I forgot how to stand.
4
“Oh, the photos don’t do your wife justice,” she said softly, her voice warm and velvety, “You look like something out of a fairytale novel.” Then, before I could respond, she leaned in and hugged me. Me.
Me.
Twent stiff like an electrified statue, I tried to smile through it. “Thank you… I’m a huge fan of
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yours.”
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Chapter 70
“Nikolai has told me,” she replied with a small nod
*Really? I didn’t know he talked to you about me…” Itrailed off, smiling stupidly, unsure, because that seemed like a big deal,
Her expression turned amused as she shook her head. “Oh, dear. You’re gorgeous. And you have dimples” She smiled and added, “As for Nikolai, he’s mentioned quite a lot. Your dream to design cars, for instance. I even remember noticing your project submission from the Archive contest last year. Very intriguing. While others focused on speed and flash, yours prioritized safety, accessibility, and inclusion–especially for drivers with disabilities. That kind of perspective is rare in young engineers.”
My jaw dropped. She’d seen that?
My project from the Archive a smaller, quieter competition, often buried beneath flashier headlines. I hadn’t even made it into the top three. I placed fourth. But the thought that Seraphina Legacy the Seraphina Legacy–had not only seen it, but remembered it?
We started talking about the evolution of electric drivetrains and concept car flaws in media designs. I lost myself in it, and so did she. We bounced back and forth effortlessly–talking motors, torque, pressure ratios, and adaptive drive systems.
Time passed. I didn’t even notice how long.
Eventually, the buffet was opened and Nikolai gently guided me by the waist toward it. My head was spinning from the whirlwind conversation.
“You look like you’re on cloud nine,” he murmured, amused.
“I feel like it,” 1 admitted, smiling wide, “Oh god, I feel like Cinderella.”
“Only better,” he added softly, handing me a plate.
I loaded it with just a bit of lasagna–because I was too full from compliments to eat anything more. A couple of macarons for dessert, and I was set. We found a table and sat down as more people settled around us. Soft background music began to swell,
Seraphina stepped onto the stage, her presence commanding once again. All conversation stilled.
She tapped the microphone and began her speech. Poised, direct, eloquent.
“Tonight, we gather not just for art or celebration, but for a cause that connects all of us,” she said, voice echoing over the hall. She continued her speech about helping orphans and homeless children. So that’s what this charity was being held for?
Her words were powerful. Then, she began listing names.
Top donors. Recognitions.
“And now, the largest contribution tonight…” She smiled. “Mr. Nikolai Vetrov, with a generous donation of one million dollars.”
blinked. One million?
Nikolai sipped his water, unfazed.
“You never told me,” I whispered.
He shrugged “Didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
She continued. Her brother came next. Then her own name.
Then
“And lastly, a contributor whose presence here has not yet been confirmed. Mr. Sergel Morozov.”
Something twisted
Tin my gut. A sharp, reflexive unease
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Chapter 70
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Sergei Morozov? Why did that name sound so familiar? Was he related to Lazar? Was that why Lazar was here today?
He’s got to be a rich and influential person, if he’s made such a big donation.
I glanced sideways—and froze.
Nikolai had gone stiff. He was no longer chewing. His jaw clenched, his hands flat on the table.
“What’s wrong?” I asked quietly, my brows knitting.
He didn’t look at me. “Nothing,” he said quickly, too quickly..
Bullshit.
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I watched him, but didn’t press. The lights dimmed, and Seraphina smiled once again.
As a special treat,” she announced, “we have a small stage play, followed by a traditional dance to close the formal portion of our gala.”
The stage lit up. Children and adult actors emerged, performing a short, beautifully executed fairytale rendition about loss and family and hope. I tried to focus, but I kept feeling Nikolai’s grip tighten around my hand, subtly, like he wasn’t aware of it.
Halfway through, he pulled out his phone, reading something, his expression growing worse.
My stomach churned. Something was wrong.
When the play ended and the lights returned, a soft waltz began to drift over the speakers. Guests were invited to the floor. A spotlight swirled slowly as couples drifted into the open circle like falling petals.
The afterparty was beginning.
1 bit my lip. Looking to see if Nikolai was going to get up. But he was lost in his phone.
Despite everything–despite being more of a grease–and–piston girl than glitter and gowns–I’d always imagined dancing at something like this. I never got the chance to dance in clubs, never enjoyed dancing freely like this. Not even at prom since my health hadn’t been good back then.
Just once. Just one fairy tale night.
“May I have this dance, my lady?” a smooth voice asked.
I turned–and there he was. Malakai, grinning at me like a character straight out of some swoon–worthy drama.
He turned to Nikolai and added, “Just one friendly dance, I hope you don’t mind?”
Nikolai’s jaw twitched. His grip on my hand suddenly tightened–not enough to hurt, but enough to make me wince.
C
