CHAPTER 1 My Uncle
ELIZA'S POV
I hummed softly to myself, letting the sweet, spicy scent of cinnamon wrap around me like a warm blanket. The icing drizzled perfectly suited over the golden-brown rolls, but my mind wasn't on the task at hand. Baking usually grounded me, giving me something to focus on, but today, today I couldn't stop thinking about what was coming.
Cavin. Uncle Cavin.
The thought alone made my heart skip a beat. I hadn't seen him in years, but the memories of him had never faded. They lingered in the back of my mind, his stern presence, the way he carried himself with authority, the way his eyes always seemed to see right through me. Even after all this, he never behaved unkindly towards me. Cared after me as if I was his. And now, he was coming back. Permanently.
I couldn't deny the excitement bubbling inside me. It was wrong, I knew that, but I had always liked him, maybe more than I should have. The feelings were confusing, twisted, but they were there, undeniable and growing stronger as the hours passed.
Just as I placed the last cinnamon roll on the cooling rack, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the mansion. My heart jumped, and I quickly wiped my hands on a towel. My parents, David and Noya, were home, but all I could think about was how soon Cavin would walk through that door, too.
Tall, powerful and imposing dominance.
"Eliza, darling!" Mom's voice rang out, full of warmth.
I didn't even have to forced a smile, they always made me stress me. I hurried to meet them, wrapping myself in their familiar hugs. It was comforting, grounding in a way, but the shake off the restlessness crawling under my skin, lingered longer.
"How's my favorite chef?" Dad teased, ruffling my hair.
"I made cinnamon rolls," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. "Let's sit in the kitchen."
We made our way back, and I served them, watching with anticipation as they took their first bites. I could barely focus on their praise, though; it all felt distant, like I was hearing it through a fog. My mind was elsewhere, racing ahead to the moment Cavin would arrive.
Then, Dad's tone shifted. "We have some news."
I tensed. I already knew what was coming, but hearing it out loud felt different, more real.
"Your uncle Cavin is coming home," Mom chirped, her voice light with excitement. "For good."
I felt the air leave my lungs. I'd been preparing for this moment, but the weight of it hit me harder than I expected. My mind flashed back to the last time I'd seen him, the way his eyes had locked with mine for just a second too long, the intensity in that look. I had never forgotten it.
"That's a, really great news," I managed to say, though my voice betrayed me, trembling slightly. My wet palm rubbing against my jeans cladded thighs.
They kept talking, sharing stories about him, his success with our company, and how much he'd accomplished. But I couldn't focus on the words. All I could think about was how close he was, how soon he'd be here, and how completely unprepared I felt. Something hot churned in my gut making me feel hot all over my body.
Why was I feeling this way? He was my uncle, after all, my adopted uncle. But no matter how much I tried to rationalize it, the excitement I felt kept rising. I could still remember the way his presence had filled a room, the way my heart raced when he was near.
"Eliza, are you okay?" Mom's voice cut through my thoughts, making me startled.
I nodded quickly trying to hide my nervousness. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just, surprised."
She smiled and reached for my hand. "I know it's sudden, but it'll be nice having him home again."
I forced another smile, but inside, I was a mess. I couldn't let them see what was really going on. They didn't know, and they couldn't know. This was something I had to keep to myself.
Excusing myself to the kitchen, I stood by the sink, gripping the edge tightly. My reflection stared back at me from the window, and I barely recognized the expression on my face; anticipation, nervousness, and something deeper. Something I didn't want to admit.
Why was I feeling like this? He's my uncle, for the sake of the lovely God, but it didn't help. The more I tried to push the thoughts away, the more they flooded in, memories of the way he'd looked at me, the way I'd felt around him. The attraction had been there for years, simmering under the surface, and now it was boiling over. I shouldn't come infront of him, that's for our betterment. Or I will lose everything.
I needed to calm down. Taking a deep breath, I returned to the kitchen table, sitting with Mom and Dad as they talked about Cavin's return and how much he'd changed. But I couldn't shake the feeling that everything was about to change for me, too.
In the midst of everything a single buzz from my phone gathered my attention, making me jump on me feet and dash out of the dinning room.
"Where are you going?" My mom's words made me cease my steps as I turn around gingerly and thinks of possible way to escape from this situation.
"My friend is nearby the convenient store and needs my help with something, I will be back soon." Answering, I try my best to escape the situation. But my dad's predatory eyes gives away a warning as I stay rooted on my steps and awaits for their approval.
"Amor, since when did you started lying?" he asks leaving no door to escape, but my sweet mother jumps to escape.
"Hey, she is a growing teenage let her enjoy her life to the fullest." That way I am out of their sight and hurries to the outside of our mansion.
My feet halts up near the iron gates of secure boundary protecting as I smile widely to my boyfriend.
"Hey, lenochka." he calls me and waits for me with wide arms. Nearing him, I feel my heart thud as I stand near him and breath into his cologne. Wood and cinnamon. He smells fresh, straight out of fictional, with his russian accent almost driving me crazy.
Patting my head, he kisses me gingerly making me blush under the hot sun.
"Hey," I mutter under my breath as stealing a glimpse of his grey eyes.
A shudder of breath passes over my body as I remember another pair of eyes.
"Why do you look like you have not being feeling well?" the question rumbles out of his deep throat making me smile under my nervousness. The great thing about Nikolai, was that, that he always gets when I am comfortable and when I am not and that's the worst thing too. Because once he get the reason, he will totally unalive the source of my uncomfortable.
"Nothing, I am just surprised about my uncle returning back to here." I gulp down the notch of nervousness and pass him a smile. His hand rounds my waist making me lean onto his stealthy body.
"The one who went abroad?"
"Yeah," I mumble.
"Don't be surprised he is just coming back, it isn't like he will break us apart." He tries to calm me down.
But, only if he know.
°•°
That night, as I lay in bed, I couldn't sleep. My mind was racing, every thought leading back to Cavin. What would it be like seeing him again? Would he remember me the way I remembered him? Would he notice that I wasn't the little girl he used to know?
The anticipation was unbearable.
I tossed and turned, my sheets tangled around me as I stared at the ceiling. But eventually, exhaustion won out, and I drifted into a restless sleep.
I was standing in the foyer of the mansion, waiting. The door creaked open, and there he was, Cavin, standing on the doorway, his eyes locked on mine. There was that same intensity, the same quiet authority that had always made my knees weak. He stepped toward me, his presence overwhelming, and I couldn't move.
"Eliza," he said, his voice low and rough. Raising his hand, he rubbed his knuckles across my cheek.
I shivered at the sound and touch of him, and suddenly, we weren't in the foyer anymore. We were in my room, the golden light filtering through the curtains, and he was standing so close I could feel the heat radiating from him.
His hand reached out, again, brushing against my cheek, and I leaned into the touch without thinking. It felt so real, like everything I'd ever wanted but was too afraid to admit. His fingers tangled in my hair, and I looked up at him, my breath catching in my throat.
"I've missed you," he whispered, and it felt like a confession.
I woke up startled and gasping for air. My heart racing and my skin flushed with cold sweat all over it. For a moment, I could still feel his touch, still hear his voice. It had been a dream, but it had felt so real, so vivid, that I couldn't shake the sensation.
Sitting up, I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady my breathing. This was ridiculous. It was just a dream. But no matter how much I tried to convince myself, the truth was undeniable. The more I tried to run away from, his everything chased me.
One thing I can't deny; Cavin was coming home, and I can just feel it, that nothing would ever be the same again.