Chapter 72 Chapter 72: Coffee with the Wrong Varya

Chapter 72 Chapter 72: Coffee with the Wrong Varya


The elevator doors slid shut behind us with a soft metallic sound, sealing us inside the quiet mirrored space. For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. The soft hum of the elevator filled the silence while the floor numbers lit up one after another above the door. I stood near the corner with my hands folded tightly in front of me, trying very hard to ignore the fact that Nicholus was standing far too close beside me for someone who barely understood the concept of personal space. Meanwhile, he leaned lazily against the railing with one hand in his pocket, looking completely relaxed despite the hospital, the family emergency, and the fact that his tie was still hanging crooked around his neck like he had given up on appearing respectable halfway through the morning.

“You know,” he said suddenly, glancing toward me through the reflection in the elevator mirror, “most girls usually look a little happier when I invite them for coffee.” His mouth curved with lazy amusement. “You look like you’re being escorted to your execution.”

Heat crept awkwardly into my face immediately. “I’m not unhappy,” I said quietly, though even I could hear how uncertain it sounded. Nicholus laughed softly under his breath. “That was a terrible lie.” He tilted his head slightly while studying me. “You’re nervous around me.” It wasn’t a question. Just an observation delivered with far too much confidence.

“I’m not nervous,” I answered quickly.

“Mhm.” His grin widened. “See? Another terrible lie.”

The elevator finally opened onto the lower hospital floor before I could embarrass myself further. Nicholus pushed himself away from the railing immediately and gestured dramatically for me to walk first. “After you,” he said lightly. “I promise not to cause any scandals before caffeine.” I stepped out carefully into the quieter private lobby while he followed beside me, still entirely too entertained by my discomfort.

The hospital café sat near the far side of the lobby behind large glass windows glowing with warm yellow light. Compared to the cold silence upstairs, this part of the hospital almost felt normal. Nurses stood in line near the counter, exhausted visitors sat hunched over untouched coffee cups, and somewhere behind the espresso machines soft music played quietly beneath the sound of steaming milk and clinking dishes. Nicholus walked beside me casually like he owned the place, drawing occasional glances from people who clearly recognized him but were too intimidated to approach.

When we reached the counter, he turned toward me immediately. “Alright,” he said, resting one arm against the marble counter. “What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing,” I answered automatically. “I’m fine.”

Nicholus stared at me for a second in complete disbelief. “Nothing?” he repeated slowly. “Sera, we came all the way downstairs for coffee.” His brows lifted slightly. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those terrifying people who genuinely enjoys hospital air more than caffeine.”

“I only came because Miss Elara told me not to leave you alone,” I admitted quietly before I could stop myself. “She said someone should stay with you.”

For one second, he looked almost offended. Then he placed a dramatic hand over his chest. “Wow,” he said dryly. “That is deeply humbling.” His expression turned teasing again almost instantly. “So this entire time I thought you came down here because you secretly enjoyed my company, and now you’re telling me I’m basically being babysat?” He shook his head slowly. “Heartbreaking.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said quickly, mortified.

“Oh, sweetheart, relax.” He leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Honestly? Elara’s probably right. Left unsupervised, I become a public safety risk.” His grin returned easily. “But now I’m curious. If she hadn’t ordered you to come with me…” His eyes lingered on mine for half a second too long. “Would you have come anyway?”

I opened my mouth, but no answer came out immediately. The question caught me off guard in the worst way possible. Nicholus watched me closely from across the counter, looking far too entertained by my sudden silence. Behind him, the coffee machines hissed loudly while one of the baristas called out an order number, but somehow his question still felt louder than everything else around us.

“I… probably not,” I admitted carefully at last, lowering my eyes toward the polished counter. “Miss Elara needed me upstairs.”

Nicholus let out a quiet laugh, not offended in the slightest. “Honest too,” he murmured approvingly. “That’s rare around our family.” He straightened slightly before turning toward the cashier. “Alright, since you apparently don’t trust yourself to choose happiness, I’ll order for you.”

“That’s really not necessary—”

“It absolutely is.” He pointed toward me lazily while speaking to the cashier. “One cappuccino for the nervous girl pretending she doesn’t want coffee.” Then he added, “And an espresso strong enough to restart my soul.”

My eyes widened slightly. “I’m not nervous.”

“Mhm,” he said again with obvious amusement. “You’ve only repeated that four times now.”

Nicholus took the small receipt from the cashier before leaning one elbow against the counter again, completely relaxed while I stood stiffly beside him wishing the floor would open beneath me. The café suddenly felt warmer than before, crowded in a way that made it harder to breathe properly. A nurse passed behind us carrying a tray of drinks, the sharp smell of coffee filling the air, but all I could focus on was the amused look still lingering on Nicholus’s face. He looked entirely too entertained by my discomfort.

“You really do get uncomfortable easily,” he said casually, tilting his head slightly while studying me. “That’s interesting.” His voice lowered just enough to feel personal without becoming inappropriate. “Most people around me either try too hard to impress me or pretend they’re not affected at all.” His eyes moved slowly over my expression. “You just look like you want to escape.”

“I don’t,” I answered quickly, though the words came out too fast to sound believable. I kept my attention fixed on the counter instead of him, twisting my fingers together lightly. “I’m just not used to…” I trailed off before finishing the sentence.

“To what?” he asked immediately, stepping just a little closer. “Rich handsome men buying you coffee?”

My face burned instantly.

“Mr. Nicholus—”

“Oh, come on,” he interrupted with a lazy grin. “At least let me enjoy the fact that I’m making you nervous. It’s the most entertaining thing that’s happened all morning.” He rested his hand dramatically against his chest again. “Do you know how rare honesty is around me? Most girls spend hours pretending not to stare.” His gaze flicked toward me deliberately. “Meanwhile, you can barely look at me for five seconds.”

“That’s not true,” I muttered quietly.

“Really?” His brows lifted with obvious disbelief. “Then look at me now.”

I immediately looked anywhere except him.

Nicholus laughed softly under his breath, clearly pleased with himself. “Exactly.” There wasn’t cruelty in his teasing, only amusement, but somehow that made it worse. Like he genuinely enjoyed watching me struggle to stay composed. “Relax, sweetheart,” he said more lightly. “I’m flirting with you, not interrogating you.”

That only made my discomfort worse.

“I think you should stop saying things like that,” I said carefully after a moment, finally forcing myself to glance at him. “Someone might hear you.”

“And?” he asked smoothly.

“And Miss Elara wouldn’t like it.”

At the mention of Elara, his expression shifted into something knowingly amused again. “Ah,” he murmured. “So that’s what this is.” He leaned back slightly against the counter, crossing his arms now. “You’re scared of her.”

“I’m not scared,” I said immediately.

“Mhm.” He smiled slowly. “Third terrible lie today.”

Before I could defend myself again, the barista called our order. Nicholus grabbed both cups easily before handing the cappuccino toward me. Our fingers brushed for the briefest second, and I pulled my hand back almost immediately, clutching the warm cup carefully against my chest.

“There,” he said lightly while picking up his espresso. “See? Coffee. No kidnapping. No scandals yet.” His eyes lingered on my face again, amused by how uncomfortable I still looked. “You survive one little conversation with me and act like you’ve been through emotional warfare.”

I stared down into the foam of my cappuccino, avoiding his gaze completely now.

The warmth of the coffee cup suddenly felt unbearable in my hands. Every teasing smile, every lazy flirtatious comment, every amused look Nicholus gave me had slowly pushed me further into discomfort until I could barely breathe around it anymore. I wasn’t used to men like him—men who spoke too closely, looked too long, and treated nervousness like entertainment. The crowded café suddenly felt too loud, too warm, too small all at once. Before he could say something else that would make my face burn again, I took a small step backward and tightened my grip around the cappuccino cup.

“I should go back upstairs,” I said quickly, avoiding his eyes completely. “Miss Elara might need me.” The excuse came out rushed, almost desperate. “I shouldn’t have stayed down here this long.”

Nicholus looked at me carefully for a second, his expression shifting slightly as if he finally realized I wasn’t secretly enjoying the conversation as much as he was. But even then, amusement still lingered faintly around his mouth. “Sera,” he said lightly, “you’re acting like I cornered you into a marriage proposal instead of coffee.”

“I just need to go,” I repeated softly.

Without waiting for another response, I turned quickly and hurried out of the café before he could stop me. My heartbeat felt uneven again as I stepped back into the quieter hospital lobby, the sound of dishes and voices fading behind me. The polished floors reflected the overhead lights brightly beneath my shoes while I moved toward the elevators almost too fast, desperate for distance more than anything else. I could still hear Nicholus behind me somewhere, calling my name casually at first, like he assumed I would stop on my own.

But I didn’t.

“Sera.”

His voice came again, closer this time.

I walked faster.

Then suddenly fingers closed firmly around my wrist.

The sudden grip stopped me mid-step so quickly that the coffee nearly slipped from my hands. A startled breath caught in my throat as I turned instinctively toward him. Nicholus stood close beside me now, slightly out of breath from catching up, his hand still wrapped around my wrist—not painful, but strong enough that I couldn’t keep walking away.

“Alright,” he said, his teasing tone softer now beneath the hospital lights. “Now you’re definitely running from me.” His brows pulled together slightly while searching my face. “Did I actually make you uncomfortable?”

My pulse pounded harder instantly.

People moved quietly through the lobby around us—doctors, nurses, visitors—but suddenly it felt like all the noise had faded into the background. I became painfully aware of the warmth of his hand around my wrist, of how close he was standing, of the way his attention stayed completely fixed on me now without any joking left to hide behind.

And then the main hospital entrance doors opened.

The sound pulled both our attention toward the lobby entrance at the exact same moment.

Several security guards entered first, moving quickly through the doorway while reporters shouted somewhere outside beyond the glass walls. A second later, Richmond Draven stepped inside the hospital in a dark tailored coat, calm and composed despite the chaos surrounding the entrance. And beside him—tall, unreadable, impossibly still even in motion—Auren entered the lobby.

Everything inside me froze instantly.

Auren’s gaze moved across the hospital lobby once, sharp and effortless, before stopping directly on us.

More specifically—on Nicholus’s hand still wrapped around my wrist.