bChapter /b87

bElena’s /bPOV:

I sat on the edge of the couch, breath shallow, spine ramrod straight as I tried truly tried to pull myself together

My hands curled into fists on myp, nails biting into my skin.

Then Sergel’s voice cut in like a de slicing through fog

“You shouldn’t be feeling this way over ba /bman like that.” His tone was light, almost mocking, like he couldn’t believe I was even upset, “I bcould /bfind at least adornmen–each one ten times more manly and capable that him–for you.”

My head snapped up, a scoff punching out of me before I could hold it back,

Was he serious?

He said it like he was offering me a new coat, Something to wear and throw away when it no longer suited me. He didn’t understand. Couldn’t understand. Niki wasn’t just a man I’d happened to fuck, or love, or hate. He was mine. He had cracked open something inside me that would never be stitched back together the same way again. Not even Dmitri’s betrayal had hit this hard for me.

My voice was cold. “No, thanks, I’d rather appreciate it if you got out of my home.”

Before Serge could respondb, /bmy mother spoke softly. “Elena. bWait/b. Let’s at least listen to what this man has to say.

I turned my head to her sharply, eyes wide. Was she serious? Her? The same woman who nearly tore Niki apart an hour ago for putting me through hell? Now she wanted to listen to Sergel fucking Morozov?

She didn’t know. Of course she didn’t.

She probably hadn’t even connected the name Morozov to the reason our house had gone into debt. To the sharp–suited loan sharks who showed up like chosts on our bdoorstep/b. Maybe she forgot, or maybe she just never realized the man standing here was at the root of that darkness. He looked too polished, too bwealthy/b, too untouchable to be the one who ruined us.

bI /bclenched my jaw and turned my re back on Sergei

Why did youe here now?” I asked, voice t. “Why now, after all this time? Why did you send me to an orphanage in the first ce?”

He didn’t blink. He didn’t even look remotely surprised by my question. Just tilted his head toward the bodyguard standing stone–faced in theer and then smoothed his coatpels with an exhale.

“Truthfully,” he began, voice calm, businesslike, “I was told you died in a miscarriage. Right before birth. I hadn’t even held you. Which was why I didn’t believe bNiki /bwhen he first showed me that picture. I thought it was a scam. A setup. I’ve dealt with dozens blike /bit bbefore/b,”

My fingers tightened around the fabric of the cushion beside meb, /bheart stuttering.

“Then what made you realize it wasn’t a fake?” my mother asked beside me, voice brittle.

Sergel let out a slow grunt, as if the memory irritated him. “It’smon for people to try and ckmail me with children they im are mine. But Niki…” He bpaused/b, bjaw /btightening slightly. “Hey not the type to waste time with nonsense. bSo /bI got curious. Suspicious, really. I went back through the hospital records from that time. Had my people dig bdeep/b. And we found somethingb./bb” /b

Inarrowed my eyes. “Like what?”

“Someone bswitched /bthe records of two children.”

My brow furrowed, I leaned forward slightly, blood roaring in my ears. “You’re saying I was switched at birth?”

Sergei nodded slowly. “That’s the essence of it, yes.

I stared at hini, stunned.

My voice was rough. “What alsh is thier

18s exhaled. “Nothing. That’s it. That was the reason my wife descended into depression, And soon after…

He trailed off.

could barely feel my legs. My skin fell cold, pulled tight over my bones. My chest ached like something was raving in from i

“Committed suicide?” asked quietly

Sergei went still.

His entire posture changed. His shoulders stiffened, his lipsi

in pressing into a thin, hard line. When he turned to me, his gare es sharp, almost furious

“Who told you that?” he asked, voice low and dangerous.

Achill swept down my spine, slow and creeping. But I didn’t back down.

“sn’t that what happened?” I challenged. “Who even was my mother? How did she actually die?”

He rubbed his forehead like the conversation physically pained him. “Your mother was Anaya bMalik/b. An immigrant from the Middle East.”

My eyes widened. “My mother was Arab?”

“Her origins areplicated,” he said, bfinally /bdropping his hand from his brow. “She was half Pakistani, half Saudi Arabian, Born and raised in Duba Her parents arranged a marriage for her with a local businessman there. A man twice her age.”

My stomach turned.

I didn’t want to ask. But I had to

“Was it forced?”

Sergei met my gaze. “To them? No. To them it was ‘arranged. The daughter didn’t bhave /bba /bchoiceb, /band refusing would bring dishonor to the family. Anaya was educated. Independent Smart. She had a modest dowry of her own. So she ran,”

“Ran? Techoed.

He nodded. “She fled the UAE. bTook /bba /bflight here. Back then, thews for asylum seekers were more lenient. She filed for temporary residence under a protection use.”

A part of me wanted to cry for her already.

Lasked the question didn’t want answeredb. /b“How old was she?

“Sergei didn’t blink. “When she arrived hereb? /bShe was sixteen.”

I stared at him, a horror I couldn’t contain rising in my throat.

“You married a child?” I spat, my voice breaking

He looked at me like I’d just insulted his lineage. That was nearly three decades ago, Elena. Besides, I didn’t many her when she was three yearster–she was neen by the. That’s when I married her

I didn’t believe him, bOr /bmaybe I didn’t want to believe him. Everything about this story made my skin crawl.

Found har

You found her “Luckhappy. “She was

ether immigrants, but the system bited her the role for

The words felt like sch Thinly mouth. “And then?”

opted, braking dow

prescription utes Sleeping pills, painkillers,

pregnant. She tried to stay clean. For the

He looked at me then, and something schihad in his eyes.

“She tried for you

“And after the miscarriage” Lasked, my voice barely above a whisper

He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the wall behind me, his gaze distant and red.

“She rpsed.” he said quietly. “Hard. Hefused therapy. Locked herself in her room for days. I tried I tried everything. And then on and found her on the bathroom floor. She was gone.

My stomach twisted, bile rising in my throat

“She overdosed?” I whispered.

His eyes met mine again. And this time, they didn’t hide.

He nodded.

The room was silent.

Silent except for the sound of my heart breaking

Because it was the same story, wasn’t it?

Niki’s mother. Now mine. Different names, different faces, but the same ending.

?