Chapter 119: ONE HUNDRED AND NINETEEN

Nicholas’s POV

I told Adrian everything the moment I got the chance.

I was worried that my mother would make true on her promise.

I didn’t leave anything important out. I told him exactly what my mother had said on the phone, including the café, the deadline she had given me, and the way her voice had changed when she realized I had been investigating my father’s death.

Adrian listened without interrupting, sitting on the edge of the couch with his elbows resting on his knees while I paced in front of him.

By the time I finished, he was already reaching for his phone.

"You’re not going alone," he said, looking at me over the screen. "You know that."

I nodded. "Yeah, I figured. That’s why u told you."

Adrian looked at me. "I’ll drive you there. You go inside and talk to her, and I’ll wait outside. If anything feels wrong, you leave."

I stopped pacing and looked at him. "What if she asks why I’m with you?"

"Then tell her I’m making sure you get back safely." He slipped his phone into his pocket and stood. "But that’s only if she sees me."

I nodded stiffly, clasping my hands together.

By evening, I had changed clothes into something neat and comfortable.

Okay, I could do this. This was my mother. I had been with her for several years, but this still felt different and I was scared. Eventually, I went downstairs where Adrian was already waiting beside the car.

The drive to the café was quiet and I spent most of it looking through the window, watching the streets pass while I tried to prepare myself for the conversation.

I had imagined talking to my mother about my father countless times since I was a child, but never like this.

Back then, I had only known the version of his death she had given me. He had died protecting us. That was all I had ever had.

Now I knew there were things she had never been told, and I was about to tell her enough to make her question everything she believed.

When we reached the café, Adrian parked a short distance away and he turned toward me before I opened the door. "Don’t let her pressure you into telling her more than you’re ready to."

"I won’t."

"And Nicholas?" He called out.

I looked back at him.

"If she tells you to come home, don’t agree to anything just because you feel guilty."

That made me look down at my hands because he knew me too well. I had a weak spot for her.

"I’ll be careful," I said before getting out.

The café was quiet and cozy, people milling around.

My mother was already sitting near the window when I walked inside. She noticed me immediately and stood so quickly that the chair scraped against the floor. For a second, she simply stared at me, as though she needed to make sure I was actually standing there and not a hoax.

Then she walked over and pulled me into a hug and I stiffened at first, but slowly relaxed.

"You look thinner," she murmured as she pulled back, looking me over from head to toe. "And you kept saying you were fine. Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?"

"I’m sorry. I’m here now."

She touched my arm and guided me toward the table. "Sit down. I ordered something for you already because I knew you’d probably come here and tell me you weren’t hungry."

Despite everything, I almost smiled. "Some things never change."

I sat down, and she took the chair opposite me. For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then she folded her hands on the table. "Now tell me why you left home."

I looked toward the window before answering. "Because I needed some time away."

"Don’t give me that answer, Nicholas. I’m your mother."

"Look, I just—" I rubbed my palms together under the table. "I’m trying to figure some things out, Mom. There are things I don’t understand, and I needed to find answers before I came to you."

Her expression tightened. "What kind of things?"

"I can’t tell you everything yet." I quickly said.

Her voice became low. "Why?"

"Because I don’t know who I can trust with all of it." I immediately regretted how harsh that sounded, so I leaned forward. "It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just don’t want to put you in the middle of something I’m trying to understand."

She studied me for a long moment before lowering her gaze. "Is this about your father?"

I swallowed. "Partly."

"Then tell me what you meant on the phone when you said you thought he had been murdered."

For a second, the question lingered in the air between us.

I had known she would ask, but hearing it directly still made my stomach tighten.

"I found information about his life and about what happened before he died," I said carefully. "Some of it doesn’t match what we’ve always been told. I found things that made me realize there were people who wanted him gone, and there were things happening around him that you never knew about."

My mother stared at me. "What people?"

I hesitated. "I can’t give you names yet."

"Why not?"

My voice lowered to a whisper. "Because I’m still trying to understand everything. But I know enough to believe that Dad’s death wasn’t as we were told."

She reached across the table and took my hand.. Her fingers were warm, but I could feel them trembling slightly. "Nicholas, whatever you’ve found, leave it alone."

"Mom—"

"I’m serious." She tightened her grip around my hand. "You and I have managed to live our lives. We’ve had problems, we’ve had difficult years, but we are still here. I don’t want you digging into something that could put you in danger."

"I need to know what happened to him."

This time, her grip tightened. "You don’t have to solve everything that happened before you were old enough to understand it. You’re pushing it."

"But he was my father." I reminded her.

"I know." Her voice softened. "That’s exactly why I’m asking you to stop. I lost him. I don’t want to lose you too."

I looked down at our hands and she squeezed mine again.

"We’re fine at home," she continued. "Whatever happened before, we’ve survived it. You don’t need to get yourself into trouble because you think you have to fix the past."

I couldn’t tell her that the past was already affecting the present.

I couldn’t tell her that the man she called home was connected to everything I had discovered.

So I simply nodded.

Then she said something that made my entire body stiffen. "Come back home."

I looked up.

"Your stepfather said he misses you."

My hand went cold inside hers. "He said that?"

"Yes." She frowned at my reaction. "Why are you looking at me like that? He has been asking about you constantly. He says the house feels empty without you and that he wants you back."

I clenched my jaw so tightly that it hurt.

My mother noticed. "Nicholas?"

"I’m fine." I gritted put.

That fucking bastard.

My mother looked worried now. "You don’t look fine."

"I’ll come back," I said quickly.

She smiled with relief and I forced myself to return it. But I already knew I had lied. There was no way I was going back to that house anytime soon.

My mother started talking about different stuff, obviously trying to catch up with me after so long of not seeing me in person.

I smiled at her, but every few minutes my eyes drifted toward the window and toward the street.

Was Adrian still there and waiting?

My mother eventually noticed. "You keep looking outside."

I paused with my fork halfway to my mouth. "Do I?"

She didn’t look impressed. "You’ve done it at least five times."

I lowered the fork, not answering her.

She looked toward the window and then back at me. "Someone came with you."

I knew there was no point lying about that. "Adrian."

Her eyebrows lifted. "Adrian? You came with your step brother?"

I nodded.

She studied me with an expression that was difficult to read. "How are you getting along with them?"

"We’re fine." I adjusted uncomfortably in my seat.

"All of them?" She pressed.

"Yeah. Cassian, Roman, Elijah, Adrian. We’re getting along."

She hummed, turning back to her food, but I could sense that she wanted to ask something else. Suddenly, she blurted out. "And your heat?"

I nearly choked on my drink. "I’m managing it."

"How?" She looked up at me.

"I’ve been using the inhibitors." I lied.

She went completely still and I knew immediately that something was wrong. "What?"

She looked at me carefully. "You haven’t been going to the store."

My heart skipped a beat. "Excuse me?"

"I checked." Her voice was gruff.

My stomach dropped. "When?"

"Recently." She set her fork down. "You kept telling me you were buying them, but when I checked, you hadn’t been there."

I stared at her. "Mom, I—"

"Don’t lie to me." Her voice was tight with irritation. Then she leaned closer, lowering her voice so the people at the other tables wouldn’t hear. "If you haven’t been using them, Nicholas, then how have you been getting through your heat cycles?"

I looked away and she waited. I couldn’t tell her everything.

"I’ve been managing," I finally said.

Her eyes narrowed, then she sighed and reached across the table again, taking my hand. "Nicholas, I’m going to ask you a very important question. And do not even think about lying to me. Okay?"

My heart dropped. Oh shit.