CHAPTER 59: VISITING HIS FATHER!

Elias was yet to get rid of what he had just heard from his mind. If anyone told him that Viktor was after him because he was in love, he wouldn’t have believed it. Viktor never seemed to be someone who could fall in love.

Viktor Drago.

The name alone stirred a mix of fear and curiosity, and now, after overhearing Jace, a flicker of something new.. excitement, maybe, or disbelief.

’In love with me?’

The idea felt impossible, yet it sent a warmth through his chest that he couldn’t ignore.

.

After a brief visit with his sister, Elias went to the table to retrieve his phone before stepping out of the Voss estate. He hastened his steps as he walked the three minutes to the main road. The morning sun was bright, but he pulled his hoodie up, shielding his face.

His phone buzzed incessantly in his pocket, notifications from the school group chat piling up. Ever since his identity as an omega had been exposed, the messages hadn’t stopped... classmates tagging him, asking questions, speculating.

Is he really an omega? Why has he been hiding it? How did he survive in Drago’s estate?

Elias had always preferred being invisible, and the sudden attention made his skin crawl. He flagged down a cab, sliding into the back seat with his hood still up.

"University campus, please," he said, keeping his voice low.

The cab ride was short, but Elias’s mind was elsewhere, replaying Jace’s words in love. He shook his head, trying to focus on the day ahead. When the cab pulled up to the campus, he paid the driver and stepped out, pulling his hood tighter. The campus was alive with students as usual, their chatter a constant hum as he made his way to the lecture hall.

He slipped into the back row, sinking low in his seat, grateful for the anonymity his hoodie provided. For a moment, he thought he’d made it through unnoticed.

Then the professor walked in, a middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed beard and wire-rimmed glasses. He set his briefcase down and began calling attendance.

"Angela Lee!"

"Present!"

...

"David Liam!"

"Present!"

...

"Elias Kane," he said, his voice cutting through the room.

Elias raised his hand, his voice steady but quiet. "Present."

Heads turned, whispers rippling through the room.

"Oh! That’s him." "The omega?" "Didn’t he collapse yesterday?"

Elias kept his eyes on his notebook, his jaw tight, but he could feel the stares. The professor lowered his glasses, peering at Elias with a mix of concern and curiosity.

"Mr Kane, are you feeling alright? Strong enough for today’s class?"

Elias forced a smile, nodding. "I’m fine, sir. Thank you."

The professor nodded, satisfied, and moved on with the roll call. Elias exhaled, his fingers gripping his pen as the class began.

He tried to focus on the lecture... something about economic theory... but his mind kept drifting. It was an elective course. Even as he tried to concentrate, the whispers didn’t stop, and every stolen glance made his skin prickle.

’I need to get out of here before someone tries to talk to me,’ he thought, already planning his escape. The back door was his best bet; he could slip out as soon as the lecture ended, before anyone could corner him with questions.

.

.

Meanwhile, across the city, Viktor Drago stepped out of a sleek black car, his polished shoes crunching against the gravel driveway of his father’s estate. The house was a sprawling mansion, all stone and glass, a testament to the Drago family’s power, even if they only controlled a few cities rather than the entire country.

Viktor’s jaw tightened as he approached the front door, memories of his childhood flooding back. This was the place where he’d been moulded into the man he was... against his will, forced into the mafia life by a father who saw him as the only son capable of carrying the family’s legacy.

"That’s why I hate coming here," he groaned as he tried to forget all of those thoughts.

The butler, an older man with a stiff posture and a neatly pressed suit, greeted him with a bow.

"Mr Viktor, your father is in the living room. Please follow me."

Viktor nodded, his expression unreadable as he followed the butler through the grand foyer. The house hadn’t changed much... it still has the same marble floors, chandeliers, portraits of stern-faced ancestors lining the walls. But it felt colder than he remembered, or maybe that was just his own resentment colouring everything.

He found his father, Nikolai Drago, in the living room, dancing to an exercise video on the massive flat-screen TV. The old man was in his sixties, his grey hair thinning, but he moved with surprising energy, following the instructor’s steps with a focused intensity. Viktor stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, his frown deepening as Nikolai ignored him, continuing to dance, sweat beading on his forehead.

When the music finally stopped, Nikolai grabbed a towel from a nearby chair, wiping his face before turning to Viktor with a grin.

"My son," he said, his voice warm but with a teasing edge. "You finally made it here after fifty-six rejections."

Viktor’s jaw twitched, his hands itching to clench into fists, but he kept his tone civil.

"You didn’t have to count them, father," he said, nodding. "Can we make this quick?"

Nikolai chuckled, gesturing to a plush leather couch. "Sit, Viktor. No need to rush. It’s been years since you’ve come home."

Viktor sat, his posture stiff, as Nikolai called for the butler.

"Tell the chef to prepare lunch. Something special... my son’s here."

The butler nodded and left, and Viktor leaned forward, his voice low.

"Father, let’s get to the point. What do you want to talk about?"

Nikolai’s smirk widened, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, we’ve got plenty to discuss, Viktor. Don’t be so impatient." He sat across from his son, crossing his legs. "First, how’s Clara? I couldn’t make it to the engagement party... business, you know... but I heard it was quite the event."

Viktor’s expression didn’t change.

"Clara’s fine. The engagement was also... fine. You don’t need to worry about it."

Nikolai raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Fine, you say? The Moreau family didn’t seem too thrilled about it. Only your siblings and cousins showed up, no one else from our side. That’s not a good sign."

"It’s nothing to worry about," Viktor shrugged, keeping his voice neutral. "It’s handled. Let’s move on."

Nikolai’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward, his tone shifting.

"Alright, then. Who is this Elias Kane I’ve been hearing so much about? Who is he to you?"

Viktor had just taken a sip of water from a glass a maid had brought, and the question caught him off guard. He coughed, the water catching in his throat, and set the glass down, glaring at his father. Nikolai didn’t move, his expression calm, clearly seeing through Viktor’s attempt to deflect. "He’s the twins’ nanny," Viktor said, his voice steady but guarded. "That’s all."

Nikolai’s lips twitched into a knowing smile.

"The nanny? Important enough to leave your own engagement party for?"

Viktor’s fingers tightened around the armrest, but he forced a smile. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Nikolai sighed, leaning back. "Don’t play dumb with me, son. I’ve heard things and it’s also over the internet."

"Aren’t you old to be on the internet?"

"Haha! This body can still do a lot of things. So tell me, this Elias Kane... he’s not just a nanny. I also heard you’ve been chasing him, neglecting your duties. Your territory’s stable, but you’re stretched thin. You have to learn how to trust people, son. Not everyone’s your enemy. You need to delegate, hire more people for the estate so you can focus on the city, your sons and, apparently, on this Elias."

Viktor groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. "I told you, Father, I never wanted this life. Out of all your sons, I was the one who had no interest in becoming your heir, but you picked me anyway. Don’t lecture me about how to run things now."

Nikolai laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. "Stubborn as ever. But if you keep dragging your feet, this Elias Kane you’re so obsessed with will end up in someone else’s arms. Is that what you want?"

Viktor’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening, but he didn’t respond. The idea of Elias with someone else sent a sharp pang through him, but he pushed it down, focusing on the present. He just wanted to get through this visit and leave.

The door opened, and Nikolai’s two wives entered, both dressed in elegant silk dresses, their smiles polite but reserved.

"Oh my... Viktor," the younger one, Marina, said, her voice soft. "It’s been too long."

Viktor stood, nodding curtly.

"Marina, Sofia. Good to see you." He was grateful they didn’t mention his mother... the woman who’d tormented him, used him, and ultimately met her end at his hands. That memory was a wound he didn’t want reopened.

Marina gestured toward the hallway.

"The children are here. Would you like to see them? They’ve been waiting for you,"

Viktor sighed internally but nodded. He followed them to a sitting room where Ivan’s children were playing... a ten-year-old girl named Anya, who was reading a book, and a three-year-old boy, Leo, who was stacking blocks with intense focus. Anya looked up, her dark eyes curious.

"Uncle Viktor? You’re here?"

"Yeah, kid," Viktor said, forcing a small smile. "Just visiting."

Viktor had seen Anya just twice and that’s because they visited him often. He never had time to visit them, but they never failed to visit every holiday to spend time with the twins.

Leo toddled over, holding up a block. "Play!" he demanded, his voice high and insistent.

Viktor crouched, ruffling the boy’s hair.

"Maybe later, Leo. I’ve got to talk to your grandpa first."

Anya tilted her head, her voice soft but sharp.

"You don’t visit a lot. Are you fighting with Grandpa again?"

Viktor chuckled, surprised by her directness. It reminded him of Ivan.

"Something like that. But don’t worry about it."

The butler appeared in the doorway, his voice formal.

"Lunch is ready, sir."

Viktor stood, relief washing over him.

"Finally," he muttered, leading the way to the dining room. He wanted to eat, get through whatever more his father had to say, and get out of there.