Craved by the Wrong Volkov-Chapter 361: Christmas present

Raphael’s POV

I still went.

Not because I cared about the urgency in their messages, and definitely not because I was worried. It was something else entirely. A dull sense of obligation mixed with exhaustion, like my body was moving out of habit rather than intention. The drive felt longer than usual. I enjoyed every bit of it something I rarely did.

It kind of reminds me of the past when Lynn used to drive me aimlessly around campus when she was bored

My hands rested loosely on the steering wheel as the city stretched out before me, dressed in lights and the jolliness of the season. People moved along the sidewalks bundled in coats, laughter drifting faintly even through the closed windows.

The radio hummed softly in the background, some old Christmas song playing, I even found myself subconsciously humming to it. I was in an unusually good mood like I have a premonition. It was Christmas day. Even the air felt different today.

The word sat heavily in my chest.

This was supposed to be the first one in what years, almost ten years I would spend without Lynn.

Normally she would talk about it weeks in advance, making plans I half listened because honestly she was always good at plans and I loved the sound of her voice. I could still remember the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about decorating the house

The way she always rant after having Christmas lunch with my family. This year she wanted to travel somewhere warm for Christmas.

The house was decorated by the servants this year but it didn’t feel the same. I tightened my grip on the wheel slightly. I wondered how she was celebrating with Lucien, did she keep those traditions with him. I shook off the thoughts before I was completely lost but one thing for sure she was happy.

She was pregnant and there was no annoying family lunch either.

My thoughts drifted back to the messages from earlier. They just had to cause a big drama on Christmas morning.

I considered the possibilities one after the other of what happened. Was someone dead or injured? Did mum get into an accident and that’s why she was crying? Then I dismissed them just as quickly.

If she was injured, my father would not sound irritated. He would not complain about a headache caused by her crying. That alone told me everything I needed to know.

I let out a quiet breath, leaning back slightly as I drove enjoying the scenery

Growing up, I never questioned my parents’ relationship. My father was always present composed and responsible. He never cheated, never disrespected my mother publicly. To anyone watching, they were the perfect couple.

But there had always been something missing. A distance that never closed.

Honestly growing up I never knew my parents weren’t in love. Ronan was a good father and my mother loved him. They were civil.

It wasn’t until I was older that I understood. The rumours about a woman he loved before the marriage, someone he had to let go of. At the time, I thought it was ridiculous that a man could hold onto someone from the past for that long.

Now, I understood it better than I wanted to. I gave a quiet, humourless chuckle. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

By the time I arrived at the hospital, the song on the radio had ended. The silence that followed felt heavier than anything before it.

I stepped out of the car, the cold air biting against my skin as I walked toward the entrance. My hands slipped into my pockets, my pace was unhurried, almost casual.

The hallway leading to the ward was quiet, but I could already hear it. My mother’s loud dramatic voice, here we go.

I found my father standing just outside the room, his expression unreadable as always. He glanced at me the moment I approached, his gaze sweeping over me briefly before settling.

A small smile tugged at my lips. "Merry Christmas." I chimed.

He scoffed lightly, though there was something sharp behind it. "Merry Christmas," he replied, his tone laced with scepticism. "You took your time."

I shrugged, stepping past him as if the conversation meant nothing. "life shouldn’t be rushed dad. It is Christmas beside there was a bit," I said simply, even though we both knew it was a lie.

He didn’t stop me. There was this look of amusement in his eyes. The moment I stepped into the room, I sensed something was off. The atmosphere was sober and heavy in this way it got on my nerves.

My mother’s sobs filled the space, she didn’t even cry this loud at grandpa’s funeral. Natasha stood stiffly off to the side, her face pale as she watched everything unfold. Mrs Sinclair was near the bed, her expression was tense with the same sad look. It looked like someone definitely died.

My gaze moved slowly across the room. "Who died?" I asked with a bored expression, my voice was calm, almost detached.

The question cut through the noise instantly. A deafening silence fell.

They all turned to look at me, their expressions shifting into something strange. A mix of shock, and pity. That was when I finally noticed her, Amelia. So this was about her .

She lay on the bed, and for a moment, I didn’t recognise her. Her face was swollen, bruises blooming across her skin in ugly shades of purple and blue. One side of her lip was split, dried blood clinging faintly to the edge. Her hair was a mess, strands sticking to her damp skin, and there were faint marks along her neck and arms that looked like they had been left by rough hands.

She looked... destroyed. I now understood why I was in a good mood on the way here. My brows pulled together slightly as I studied her.

"Did you hire someone to beat you? They did a good job." I asked, completely serious. "You look awful." honestly the job was a solid 8 out of 10.

The words hung in the air. My father’s lips twitched faintly, like he was holding something back.

Amelia’s face crumpled instantly. "How can you say that?" she cried, her voice breaking as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "Why weren’t you picking up your phone, Raphael?"

I didn’t answer her question. "What happened?" I asked instead, my tone steady, almost indifferent.

Her swollen eyes flickered, then she let out another sob. "I was kidnapped last night," she said, her voice trembling. "They beat me... I tried to call you but you didn’t pick..."