<b>Chapter 166 </b>


    Elena’s POV:


    se


    The obstetrician smiled, a kind, reassuring expression on her face as she stepped back from the bed. She had just finished her examination.


    “Everything seems to be progressing and healing well,” she announced. “You’re in excellent health.”


    My lips pursed into a thin line, and I nodded, a faint blush creeping up the back of my neck. I felt a surge of ridiculous embarrassment, but I knew I had to ask.


    “So,” I began, trying to sound as casual as possible, “I can have intercourse?”


    A soft, knowingugh escaped her lips. “Oh, yes, of course. Hadn’t I given you the go–ahead two weeks ago?” she questioned, a gentle curiosity in her


    eyes<b>. </b>


    I gave a small, sheepish nod. “Yeah. It’s just, my husband is very… considerate. He wanted to make sure I was fully recovered. I tried reassuring him about what you said, but he kept insisting we wait at least two months.” My voice trailed off into a frustrated sigh, and I felt even more ridiculous for having to admit such a thing.


    She simply smiled, a look of understanding softening her features. We chatted a little more about my recovery and Haider’s progress before she gave me a final piece of advice about getting rest and left the room.


    Alright. Yes. I was feeling sexually frustrated. Sue me. It was a simple, undeniable fact. It had been manageable when I was alone, when I wasn’t constantly within arm’s reach of Niki, but this past month had been an exquisite form of torture. I was reminded of how good he was in bed with every nce, every brush of his hand. Seeing him shirtless so often while he held Haider or simply moved around our cramped space was giving me a metaphorical case of blue balls, even though I didn’t have any balls at all.


    I mean, yeah, I get it. Most new mothers are exhausted. They’re overwhelmed, they deserve all the rest in the world. But that wasn’t me. I wasn’t doing anything. Literally nothing. No chores, no studies, no work. Not even cleaning Haider’s diapers–the nurses handled that. I did help with feeding him a lot, but Haider was surprisingly well–behaved. He was a champion eater, always hungry on time and rarely crying. His little body, so fragile and tiny at first, was filling out, gaining a healthy weight. He seemed to know that his job was to eat, sleep, and just exist, and he was exceptionally good at it.


    I didn’t feel tired. I felt bored, exhausted from the sheer monotony of the days, andpletely, utterly frustrated. I wanted to go out. Even though I had been out a few times, I never ventured far from the hospital. My trips were usually just a short walk to the cafe below for an hour, the same route every time. The thought of leaving Haider here, even with the constant CCTV surveince and the guards stationed outside our room and up and down the hallway, made my stomach clench with anxiety.


    I understood that we should be worried after everything that had just happened. But at this point, the constant vignce felt like paranoia. I mean, Dmitri was dead and Andrey was paralyzed. Niki had preferred not to tell me the exact details, a decision that both infuriated and unnerved me. But even though the news reports spoke of a “freak car ident” resulting in a spinal cord injury that left Andrey unable to speak or move for the rest of his life, I “had been damn sure it couldn’t be exined just like that.


    Andrey had been a ruthless man. The idea of bi


    being taken out by a simple ident wasughable.


    Why wasn’t anyone questioning his three–day absence? It was the most ring detail, a missing puzzle piece that no one seemed to care about. Not even his own wife. It was as if his disappearance and then his sudden, debilitating return werepletely normal.


    What was even more ridiculous was the situation with Lazar. Sergei’s son had somehow taken over the Vetrov family businesses. Not all of them, just the chain of restaurants and nightclubs.


    What was even more ridiculous was the situation with Lazar. Sergei’s son had somehow taken over some of the Vetrov family businesses. <b>Not </b>all of them, just the chain of restaurants and nightclubs. It was an odd detail that I had brought up to Niki a few days ago. He’d exined it away with <b>a </b>casual shrug, stating that those particr businesses were legally owned by Dmitri’s mother–Andrey’s second wife–and therefore <b>weren’t </b><b>part </b><b>of </b><b>the </b><b>main </b>Vetrov enterprise. Niki wasn’t keen on getting into a legal battle with her, which would only bring unwanted drama and media attention. <b>He </b><b>was </b><b>just </b>biding his time, waiting for the right moment to consolidate all the power.


    Only a week after the airing of that news, Sergei had contacted me. The first thing he did was apologize for not calling in <b>so </b><b>long</b>. I was<b>, </b><b>of </b><b>course</b><b>, </b><b>baffled </b>by his apology. It wasn’t like I cared. And even if I did, how did he know? Had Niki told him? Niki had mentioned talking <b>to </b>him <b>before</b>.


    He mentioned that Sergei had gotten bronchitis, and when I questioned if he was behind Andrey’s condition, he’d been straight up and answered with a truthful candor that was both surprising and terrifying.


    “Of course, dochenka,” he had said, his voice raspy from the illness but still sharp. “I promised, didn’t I? I even took a wonderful video. Would you like toe see? I can have my new chef make some macaroons. It’s his specialty.”


    As much as the thought of macaroons and going out tempted me, I had to decline because I couldn’t leave Haider at that time. He was still so small, and the idea of leaving him, even for a few hours, was unbearable. So our meeting had been postponed indefinitely.


    I felt a soft coo and I looked down, smiling as I watched him suckle. Breastfeeding had been another thing that was slightly hard at first. Since he was premature, Haider didn’t have the coordination to suckle properly until a few weeks ago. It was a slow, sometimes painful process, but it was nice seeing him grow up, seeing his little cheeks plump up with milk. I felt a deep warmth spread through my chest, a feeling that had nothing to do with frustration or anxiety.


    Maybe I was being too ungrateful? I mean, I had my mom, Aunt Rose, and Fiona visiting me almost every day. I had games, a TV, and books. I had my baby. What more could I ask for, right?


    “Malishka?”


    The voice startled me, and I snapped my head up, my eyes wide with surprise. I hadn’t even heard the door open. He moved so silently sometimes it was unnerving.


    “You’re back?” I asked, a genuine smile spreading across my face.


    Niki’s lips curved into a <b>soft</b><b>, </b>genuine smile. He looked so at ease. “Yeah. I said I’de early today, didn’t I?” he nodded, remembering his promise from earlier this morning.


    said, his voice low and warm. I


    “Is something wrong? You seem out of it recently,” he said, his gaze <i>fixed </i>on my face, a gentle concern in his eyes. He was wearing his office attire–a sharp navy blue suit with a crisp white shirt. His hair was perfectly slicked back, and his face was more refreshed than usual, as if he had shed the day’s burdens the moment he walked into the room. Was it because he came home early today? Or was it just me?


    Well, you couldn’t exactly call this hospital room home, but it had be one. We had been living in this sterile, beige room for two months now. There were two single beds, so Niki and I slept separately. It was sort of ridiculous, considering we were married. I wanted to question why we couldn’t just get <i>one </i>big <i>one</i><i>, </i>but it just seemed like asking for too much.


    “No. It’s alright. I’m just… tired, I guess,” I lied smoothly. “Do you want to <i>drink </i>something? I’ll make coffee-”


    My words were cut off as he leaned down, his face close to <i>mine</i>, and his lips pressed against my own. It was a slow, soft kiss, like always. At least at <i>first</i>. But then my heart jolted, skipping a beat as he deepened it. My neck felt hot and my ears buzzed, a familiar fire lighting up in my veins. The surprise of it, the sudden, <i>unexpected </i>passion, made my head <i>spin</i>.


    What? Why now? All of a sudden? He had only kissed me chastely for the past couple of weeks<b>, </b>a quick peck on the cheek or lips. But those questions in my mind vanished, consumed by the heat that was <i>now </i>spreading through my body. He deepened it further, his tongue exploring, his hand cradling the back of my head, and <i>my </i>mind wentpletely haywire. All of a sudden, my mind went back to the first time we kissed, and I felt butterflies rise up in my stomach, fluttering wildly.


    By the time he finally pulled away, we were both breathing hard. A wide, satisfied smile was spread across <i>his </i>face, his eyes sparkling with a familiar mischief.


    Ther


    eyes


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