Chapter 84 Chapter Eighty-Four

Chapter 84 Chapter Eighty-Four
Elena's POV

"Let's go home." My voice cracked through the noise, Nikolai's eyes found mine without hesitation, and he nodded.

"We will go on now." He said, bidding his goodbye while I turned around and walked away, I heard his hurried footstep behind me, but I didn't stop, I didn't say another word, I just slipped into the car as he pulled the passenger side door for me, then turned around and slipped into the driver's seat. The ride home was painfully quiet. I rested my forehead against the cool car window, watching the city lights blur into streaks of gold and white as Nikolai's car cut through the night. Above us, fireworks burst across the sky in brilliant colors, red, silver, blue, they all paint the night with fleeting beauty. It was beautiful, at least, it should have been, because it's another year, and I was supposed to be celebrating, but beauty felt distant tonight, the fireworks bloomed and died just like the hope I had a few hours ago, when I slipped into this lovely gown Nikolai picked for me.

I had no idea the reason Nikolai had ended up beating that man at the party to the point of almost pulling the trigger; the man must have really said something that pissed him off. Everything had happened so fast that my mind still struggled to piece it together, just a few minutes of stepping out to use the bathroom, the ballroom that was filled with music and laughter had suddenly turned into a battlefield, the blood of that man had stained the floor and terror gripped the crowd and somehow my thoughts had circled back to her.

Gianna, that woman, the woman everyone seemed to associate with Nikolai. The woman people whispered about, the woman he had apparently killed for.

The glass was cold against my skin, a welcome contrast to the heat twisting painfully in my chest. Outside, the world moved on, cars passed, people laughed outside, fireworks exploded overhead, but inside the car, I felt stuck, hopeless, and stupid. I didn't want to be jealous; I shouldn't be jealous, because Nikolai wasn't mine in the first place.

The thought should have comforted me instead, but it hurt; it hurt because it was the truth: Nikolai wasn't mine, and perhaps he never would be. I swallowed hard. We were together, at least in my head, only in my head. Yet even then, I felt like there was an invisible wall between us, one built from secrets, from his world, from Gianna, and from Rafael.

My jaw tightened as the image replayed in my mind for what felt like the hundredth time, the face of Gianna, her beauty, her elegance, the way she spoke, she was everything I wasn't, she was the kind of woman who walked into a room and commanded attention without trying. I remembered the way she had laughed at the party of the Rossetti. The way she had draped her arm around Nikolai's waist so naturally, as though she had always done that, the way she had appeared at the mansion without questioning, and everyone in Nikolai's circle talks about her, as if she had always belonged there, as if Nikolai had always taken her to all the events he attended.

Gianna seemed to be Nikolai's world, a world I was still struggling to enter. I squeezed my eyes shut. No, I wasn't doing this. I refused to sit here acting like some lovesick fool. I needed to kill this feeling, it's an unhealthy feeling. slowly, my eyes wondered to him, he was just there, driving with one hand in the wheel and his expression remained unreadable as always, cold, composed, dangerous and annoyingly handsome, I frowned harder, I hated that no matter how angry I became, and no matter how much I tried to remind myself that this was wrong I was still attracted to him, to my fiancé's brother. The thought alone should have been enough to stop my feelings, but no, it wasn't, it never was. The more I think of the fact that we can never be together, the more I feel suffocated. Nikolai glanced at me briefly. "Why are you so quiet?" He asked suddenly but I didn't move my head from the window.

"Didn't you say I talk too much?" I replied slowly, although he had said that, but that wasn't the reason I was quiet. Nikolai chuckled softly. I knew that sound; he knew I was lying. Of course, he did. The man noticed everything except the things that mattered to me. I could feel his gaze on me for a second before he retrieved them back to the road.

"Come on," he said softly, "you know I don't believe that." He added, I kept staring outside.

"Just tired," I said again. The lie came out easily, but he still didn't buy it.

"Tired people usually don't glare at glass." My eyes widened slightly, was I glaring? I asked mentally my brows frown at the window.

"I wasn't glaring."

"You still are." He said softly, my fingers curled tightly on my lap, I bit harder on my lower lip, trying to suppress my emotions.

"Then stop looking at me," I muttered. Another chuckle left his lips. I wanted to throw something at him, but I stayed calm.

"Are you mad at me?" My eyes snapped to him. The moment he said that, I stared at him in disbelief. Mad? No, I was suffering inwardly, and he was laughing. My chest tightened, that awful feeling returned, and I hated how possessive it made me feel. Possessive over someone who wasn't mine. Maybe I shouldn't have followed him to the party. Maybe I would have been happier staying home. Or maybe I shouldn't have taken every kind gesture of his into heart. Maybe, I wouldn't be harboring these feelings for him. I turned back to the window and pressed my forehead against the glass again. The coolness did little to soothe the storm raging inside me. "Elena, please talk to me," his voice softened. "And remove your head from the window. You will catch a cold." I rolled my eyes.

"Pretty sure that is not how cold work." Nikolai hummed, the sound was far too amused for my liking, but still, I didn't comment further on that, and he didn't say a word. Silence stretched again, long and heavy.

"Come on,' he said quietly, "tell me, what have I done wrong?" My shoulder stiffened.

"I am not mad at you." Another lie, this one sounded even worse. Nikolai sighed quietly, not annoyed but patient, and that somehow made everything worse. He tolerated me, something Rafael will never do.

"Elena," he called softly, the way he said my name made my heart flutter, his free hand slowly moved while it settled on my lap, I froze, my eyes immediately dropped to, his warm fingers steady, comforting, and dangerous, resting on my clothed thighs but it felt like it was on my bare skin. I swallowed hard.

"Believe me," I whispered, "I'm not."

"You are lying," Nikolai said,

"I'm not." I insisted. 

"You haven't looked at me since we left the party." Had it really been that long? I didn't answer because he was right, I was avoiding him, and I looked pathetic when I stared back at myself from the glass. A pathetic, jealous woman who is jealous of a woman who doesn't even care about me. A woman whose only crime was existing beautifully in Nikolai's world. The car slowed to a stop at a red light. Nikolai's thumb brushed lightly against my knee, a tiny movement but it was enough to set my heart on fire, and my core to a steam of water. "Elena," his voice sounded almost pleading this time, my chest ached at the pain in his voice. "Tell me what is wrong."

Wrong? Everything was wrong, but how was I supposed to explain this ache in my chest? How was I supposed to admit that watching another woman touch him had felt like someone squeezing my heart with bare hands? How was I supposed to tell him that hearing people link his name to Gianna made something ugly rise inside me? How am I supposed to tell him that I hate that he could get mad because that man was probably talking shit about Gianna? That I hated he wasn't mine and I wanted him badly to be mine. I sound pathetic right? A bitter laugh escaped me.

"You don't know?" The question slipped out before I could stop it. Beside me, Nikolai went still, his gaze fixed on me for half a second before he slowly shook his head.

"No, I don't." The answer hurt more than it should have. Of course, I wouldn't blame him; he had no idea. Men like Nikolai probably had women throwing themselves at them every day. Why would he notice one foolish girl silently falling apart beside him, "fine, I'm sorry if I hurt that man, I know you don't..." My eyes snapped to him immediately, he started explaining that man, for God's sake, it wasn't about that man.

"It's not about that man," I snapped, his eyes tilted to me, dark, his brows furrowed. I continue, "I know you hurt him because he said bad things about Gianna..." Nikolai slammed on the brakes so suddenly that my body jerked forward against the seatbelt, good thing I was wearing it. My eyes widened, and confusion flashed across his face, real confusion written over him.

"Gianna?" He repeated the name my chest burned

"That is all you have to say?" I asked bitterly, he stared at me for a long moment then his hand reached for mine, warm fingers wrapped gently around mine, my breath caught.

"Elena," my name sounded different on his lips, like a prayer, like something precious, my heart stumbled, hard his thumb brushed over my knuckles, slowly and carefully. I swallowed hard.

"I know I have no right over you," I whisper before courage failed me, "but I don't want to hear them talk about Gianna when I'm there, and I hate it when you attack someone because of her." Nikolai looked confused and frustrated by that. "Don't give me that look because I know it was Gianna that make you..."

"For crying out loud Elena, I didn't hit him because of Gianna." He growled cutting me off. My eyes bulged. If he didn't hit him because of Gianna, then why was he mad? I parted my lips to say something, but my voice died down, "fuck this..."