Chapter 87 Chapter Eighty-seven

Chapter 87 Chapter Eighty-seven
Elena's POV

"I want you." His eyes bulged, but I wasn't done. "I want you to fuck me." His hands drop almost immediately from my wrist. Within a blink, he is two steps away from me. He creates a space between us as if I were some contagious disease. He looks genuinely surprised. I know that reaction. He will never want to touch me because I am his brother's woman, not his, and he didn't expect those words from me. "You won't do it?" I folded my hands across my chest. "You can't fuck me?"

"Elena..." I shook my head

"Don't call me because I know what you are about to say," my voice trembled despite my efforts to keep it steady. "So don't." His brows knitted together. "I know you wouldn't agree to touch me, so stop trying to make excuses for your actions." I swallowed painfully, "You know you shouldn’t promise something you can't give."

"But..."

"Don't tell me you will buy me another expensive gift for the new year." I laugh bitterly looking at the box in his hands. "I don't need anything from you to remind me how pathetic I am." And with that, I move away from him, desperate to get inside my room before I completely fall apart, before I completely make a fool of myself, but his fingers wrap gently around my wrist. 

"Elena," his voice was soft, "stop acting this way," I stop, "you and I know that we can't..."

"Save it." I yanked my hand away, "I don't need another lecture." His lips parted, "I don't need you reminding me that I'm nothing more than a whore who is desperately trying to lure her fiancé's brother into sin," his eyes bulged when I said that, and he stared at me as if I had slapped him, his gray eyes widened with disbelief

"Elena..."

"So what if I fell in love with the wrong brother?" I snapped, tears already burning my eyes, yet Nikolai's expression didn't change; he didn't react even when I foolishly confessed that I was in love with him. "Isn't that what you think?" 

"No."

"Come on, don't give that pathetic reply because I know when you look at me, you look at me as someone who is going to get you into trouble, that I am a walking disaster." He shook his head, his brows knitted. I laughed, a harsh, broken sound left my lips. "Fine," I folded my arms across my chest. "I agree, I am the demon." My chest rose and fell with every angry breath. "And you are..." I look directly into his eyes, " the saint." His jaw tightened.

"You know that is not true."

"Do I?" I asked leaning in, to reach for his shirt

"Yes," he said.

"Then kiss me again and take my virginity." I tried to reach for his pants but Nikolai grabbed my hand.

"No, we can't." I swatted my hand from his, he rubbed a hand through his dark hair, clearly struggling to stay calm. "Maybe we should talk tomorrow." I frowned, "when you have a clear head." My eyes snapped to his.

"So now you think I'm drunk?" His expression changed instantly.

"That is not what I meant."

"Then what? Explain?" He sighed.

"Elena, we have a lot to drink tonight, maybe..." I let out another humorous laugh.

"Great," I nodded slowly, "so now I'm throwing myself at you like some cheap whore because I'm drunk." He shook his head. "You think I am a drunk horny bitch."

"Elena," he called, his voice filled with frustration, "I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to." I turned towards the bedroom door, "Just go away, Nikolai." My arms wrapped around the doorknob. "I don't want to see you till I leave this place."

"Elena," he said before I could finish, and I shoved the door open, stepped inside, and slammed it shut. The loud sound echoed through the hallway, and a second later, another thud came. The edge of the door had hit his shoulder before he could move away.

"Elena," he knocked once, "please listen." I leaned against the door, squeezing my eyes shut.

"Go away," I said, not wanting to talk to him anymore because the more I stood in front of him, the more I wanted to beg him to touch me, even if it was just a kiss. The more I want to throw myself at him, maybe he is right, the alcohol in my system is making me act crazy. 

"Can we talk please?"

"No," I yelled, "just leave."

"C'mon," his voice softened, "I hate to see you hurt but..."

"Don't lecture me," I whispered behind the closed door, tears finally escaping my eyes, "don't say things you can't do." I heard his frustrated sigh, then another gentle knock.

"Elena," 

"Please leave me alone." That was it; he went silent. After several long seconds passed, his voice came up.

"Good night." He said but I didn't reply, then I heard his footstep slowly retreated down the hallway, each step sounded farther away than the last, I waited until I couldn't hear them anymore, only then did my legs give out beneath me, I slid down the door until I was sitting in the cold wooden floor, the tears I had been holding back finally broke free, a silent sob escapes my throat.

"What is wrong with you?” I buried my face in my hands, "What is wrong with you, Elena?" I scolded myself inwardly. For years, I had loved Rafael, or so I thought. I had practically forced my father to betroth me to him, and now, just meeting his brother in less than a month, I couldn't stop thinking of him; I couldn't bear to see him with another woman, I even wanted to give him the most important thing I had promised to keep till my wedding night. I can't stop thinking about him, and I can't keep pretending that my heart didn't race every time Nikolai looks at me. I can't keep pretending I didn't crave every conversation with him and his touches as well, I like the way he makes me feel, not just the way he touches me but the way my heart leaped when he is around, no doubt, I love him, I love my fiancé's brother but it hurts that we can't be together. A great wave of tears blurred my vision. "I hate this," I muttered hugging my knees tighter to my chest, "I hate myself." If only I had met Nikolai first, if only fate hadn't tied me to Rafael, if only father had even liked him a little. My body jolted suddenly when the shrill sound of my phone shattered the silence of my room. I wiped my eyes quickly before reaching for it. Rafael's name displayed on my screen, and I inhaled deeply, forcing my voice to sound normal, not like he could tell when I was happy or sad. "Hello!"

"Where are you?" Those were his first words: no greeting, no happy New Year, just irritation, typical Rafael. "Your father has been trying to reach you," I blinked, "he called me asking whether you were with me." Each word landed like another crack across my heart. Not once had he asked if I was alright. He didn’t care about his fiancée he left for three days. Not once had he called since he left, not even to wish me a happy new year. He only called because my father had contacted him. Sometimes I wondered what I was doing with Rafael; would it not be better if I just called off the engagement? Slowly, I lowered the phone and glanced at the screen. Ten missed calls from my dad. My stomach dropped. I hadn't even heard them. "Elena!" Rafael's voice became louder, "Are you there?"

"Yes."

"Then why weren't you answering?" Before I could explain, another voice floated through the phone,

"Baby," that simple word, that voice I know it belongs to Arabella, "it's time for the exchange of gifts." Laughter erupted in the background, music playing, and people cheered as another round of fireworks exploded outside. Only then did I realize he was at a party, celebrating without me. My chest tightened painfully. He hadn't even remembered to wish me a happy New Year. He didn't call since he left, and the first time he did, it was only because of my father. How foolish could I be?

"Elena?" I smiled bitterly.

"Thank you very much."

"What?"

"Happy New Year." Before he could answer, I ended the call. The room became quiet again. This time, I didn't even try to stop crying. I let every tear fall for Rafael, for my foolishness, and for the impossible love that was destroying me inwardly. After several minutes later, my breathing finally steadied, I picked up my phone again, I pressed the call button, returning father’s call, the ringing barely lasted two seconds before it stopped, he had rejected the call, a tiny smile tugged at my lips, despite everything, dad was definitely worried and if I knew him at all, he wasn't going to settle for a voice call, he would want a video call to make sure that I was okay, I jumped to my feet immediately, I can't possibly let dad see me like this. I looked down at myself, while I stared at my reflection in the mirror, my make-up was ruined, mascara stained my cheeks, my lipstick had completely disappeared, and my eyes were swollen from crying. "There is no way my dad is seeing me like this," I rushed into the bathroom, warm water splashed across my face, I carefully washed away every trace of makeup, until my skin looked natural again after drying my face, I slipped out of the gown into a simple satin nightgown, much better, I had barely climbed back onto the bed when my phone screen lit up. Exactly as I expected, Dad's video call appeared on my screen. I laughed softly, taking one last deep breath. I answered, the screen filled with my father's familiar face before he said a word. I forced the brightest smile I could manage. "Happy New Year!" I practically shouted, he chuckled warmly.

"My silly little girl, do you want to damage Dad's eardrum?" I laughed hard, while he smiled, somehow his smile warmed my heart, he wasn't faking it, he was a genuine one full of affection.

"No, Dad, you know I can't do that." His smile widened.

"So tell me what are you up to?" His voice turned suspicious.

"Nothing, I was just here, being a good girl."

"Oh dear, are you lying to your dad?"

"No!" I said fast, and he smirked.

"Stop lying I know you were at a party with..."