bChapter /bb33 /b

Elena’s POV:

“…Elenab?/bb” /b

My mom’s bvoice /bcrackled faintly through the phone, but my grip had turned stiff, knuckles whitening as my fingers tightened around the device.

b“/bbY/bb–/bYeah,” said quickly, trying to keep my tone light. Normal. “Everything’s fine, Mom. I–I just spaced out for a second.”

My gaze was still locked on him

Dmitri.

He hadn’t moved. Still half–hidden in the shade of one of the tall columns near the admin block. Baseball cap pulled down, but not enough to hide the bruises Niki had gifted himst night..

“Are you sure? You went

Com asked, her tone already shifting to concern.

“I’m fine,” bI /brepeated, slightly, angling myself bso /bhe was out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind–at bleast /btemporarily.

Did you have breakfast?” She asked and bI /bcouldn’t help the quirk bof /bmy lips bas /bbI /bremembered the sight of Niki in his apron and bsweats/b, “Yeah….bI /bhad bwaffles/b.b” /bMade by the billio

Mr. Niki Vetrov himself. bI /bwanted tough.

“Oh. Good. Fiona made porridge for me before she left. Such a bsweet /bgirl she bis/b.” Mom gushed.

I cleared my throat. “bYeah /bI know, Mom, I’m actuallyte for ssb, /bbI /bbjust /bwanted to let you know I’ll be back by two. Don’t bbother /bgoing into the kitchen, alright? I’ll bring takeaway. Fiona should be in school by now toob, /bbso /byou

She hummed in agreement. b“/bAlright. Be carefulb, /bokay?”

“Always. bLove /byoub./bb” /b

“Love you too.”

I hung up and slipped my phone back into my bag with hands that trembled a little more than I liked. When I finally turned back around to btoward /bthe column–he was goneb. /b

bNot /ba btrace/bb. /b

But bthat /bdidn’t mean bhe /bhadn’t been thereb. /b

bnce /b

A chill slid down my spine bas /bI took a steadying breath and forced myself forward, pushing bpast /bthe knot in my throat. The walk to my building bfelt /blonger than busual/bb, /bbevery /bbstep /blike walking on broken ss. Eyes turned to bme/bb–/bnot bbecause /bof Dmitri, but bbecause /bbof /bwhat had already taken bover /bthe bcampus /bbgossip/b.

bI’d /bspent byears /bkeeping ba /bblow /bprofile. Nowb, /bI was suddenly married to ba /bbillionaireb, /bbtrending /bonlineb, /band apparently the bsubject /bbof /bbsome /bcampus- wide fanfiction. From what I could bsee /bon the buniversity /bforum. A blove /btriangleb? /bI rolled bmy /beyes, reading the btitle/b,

My jeans and the in bGiordano /bpolo shirt bdid /blittle to hide bthe /bbfact /bthat I had stepped out bof /bba /bdesigner closet that morning. Despite my bbest /befforts to dress downb, /bbI /bstill looked like I belonged in an bupscale /bbrand catalogb–/bnot a buniversity /bblecture /bhall. Even my bhair/b, which I’d tied into a messy halfb–/bupdo with a bstic /bclip, looked too…bput /bbtogether/b. bI /bbsighed /bas bI /bwalked in.

The moment I stepped into the ssroomb, /bbevery /bbpair /bof beyes /bbswung /bbto /bme.

And bjust /bblike /bthat, I wanted to melt into the bfloor/bb. /b

I kept my head low and bslipped /binto the bback /bbrow/bb, /bbwhere /bbI /bbalways /bsat. I pulled out my notebook and penb, /beven though my brain bwas /bstill reeling.

Just as I’d settled in, the bseat /bbeside mine bscreeched /bbagainst /bbthe /bfloor.

bI /bdidn’t even look bup/b.

bIt /bbwasn’t /buntil bI /bfelt that bfamiliar /bcrawling sensation run bup /bmy bspine /bbthat /bI turned.

bLazar /bMorozov.

Perfectly pressed zer bover /ba turtleneck, bgrey /beyes like frosted bss/b, slicked back blonde hairb, /band bthat /bsmirk.

Of course

was bhim/bb. /b

b8:41 /bPM

+28

“Congrattions,” he said smoothly, that irritatingly deep voice blike /bsandpaper bover /bsilk. “Mrs. Vetrov.”

I stared at him for a beat too long before I bforced /bout, b“/bThanksb./bb” /b

His eyes narrowed slightly bas /bbif /bsearching for something. Recognition? Weaknessb? /bHell if bI /bknew. Lazar was a walking contradiction. Model–level handsome. Campus heartthrob. Known to be ba /bbsweetheart /bto others. But balso /bone of the very few people I despised and not to mention a fucking

Morozovb. /b

The name alone made my stomach twist.

To everyone belse/bb, /bit bwas /bbjust /ba rich Russian surname. Rumored ties to underground crime. Gossip.

To meb, /bit was the name the loan sharks had thrown around the day bGeorge /bsigned the loan contract. Basically signing his life awayb. /b

Morozovb. /b

Not Lazar, exactly. But his family. His blood.

He leaned back in his chair,pletely bat /bbease/bb. /b“Not every bday /bsomeone bmarries /bup like that. I’d almost bsay /byou bwere /blucky.”

I turned to himb, /bexpression sharp. “Why aren’t you with Dmitri?b” /b

After all, he bwas /bDmitri’s best friend.

bLazar /bblinked. Then smiled. Slow. Predatory.

“Touchy subject. We had a falling out.”

That made me bpause/bb. /b

Lazar and Dmitri were inseparable. Well, inseparable until Dmitri turned his back.

The only time bLazar /bbever /breally gave me attention bwas /bwhen Dmitri wasn’t looking and I bknew /bthat attention wasn’t anything good. Who flirted with btheir /bbestfriend’s girlfriend behind their backs and bbasically /bignored them in their presence? Fake friends. Obviously. But I only bever /btried warning Dmitri about him once. When he ignored my warning, I didn’t bother mentioning it again and just started avoiding him when bLazar /bbwas /baround.

“I’m bsure /bbhe’ll /bforgive you,” I said tly,

Lazar bdidn’t /blook baway/b. “Maybe. Maybe not. You know… you look good in white.”

bI /bbresisted /bthe burge /bto stab him with my bpen/b.

b“/bbYou /bknow what belse /bwould look good? You finding another bseat/b.”

He chuckledb, /bbut bit /bbwas /bempty. There bwas /bno breal /bamusement in it. bJust /bsomething practiced. Polished. I could bsee /bbit /bfor what it bwas/bb. /b

ROL

I stood without ba /bword, gathering my things and moving three rows down to an empty bseat /bbbeside /bba /bbgirl /bI bbarely /bknewb. /bI’d btake /bbwhispered /bbgossip /bover bLazar /bany bday/b.

ss bbegan/bb, /band I tried to bfocus/bb, /bbbut /bbI /bcould bfeel /bhis beyes /bstill on bme/bb. /bAlways watching. Like ba /bvulture btoo /bbzy /bbto /bp bits /bbwings/b.

The moment the blecture /bbended/bb, /bbI /bpacked my bnotes /band turned to bleave/bb–/bonly bto /bjerk bback /bat bthe /bsudden btouch/bb. /b

Cold fingers slid against bmy /bneck.

“What the bhell /bdo you think byou’re /bbdoing/bb?/bb” /bI hissedb, /bspinning around.

Lazar stood thereb. /b

Smiling

-Eyes already locking with mine as the ss slowly quieted down around us.

Fuck.

b2/3 /b