Jonathan
Mila I woke up to a knock on my hotel room. Blinking wearily I sat up in the bed, my eyes going to the wall clock on the opposite wall. It was almost seven in the morning. I had spent most of the night twisting and turning around on the bed, getting less sleep than I usually do. And when I did sleep, it was to the dreams of my boss, Jonathan hovering over me, tempting me and erasing the distance between us before his lips settled on mine. Or the other times it were the nightmares where those men caught me before Jonathan could save me. Now, I slipped out of the bed and walked to the door, opening it a bit I peeked out to see a uniformed hotel attendant with a food trolley. I arched a brow in query as I said, “I haven’t ordered breakfast.” “The breakfast is complimentary to our guests, Ma’am.” The man replied. Huh. Last night
Mila I was so angry. No, not just angry, I was fûcking furious. My heart pounded inside my chest as I waited for the elevator to take me down to the underground parking. What I didn't understand was why my eyes were smarting and I have to blink back the tears if I was angry. Fûcking arsehole. Arrogant bastard. How could he even think for a second that I’d say yes to his preposterous preposition. Like I was something to buy. The metal doors parted and I stepped out, my footsteps quick as I made my way out. Because I was looking down, I didn’t see who was standing in front of me and sl
Mila My heart beat a foreign rhythm as I watched him coming toward me. He looked indifferent as if he couldn’t care less, as he walked in that predatory way of his. He wasn’t wearing his coat and the way top two buttons of his shirt were undone and how his sleeves were rolled up, it looked like he was probably enjoying his evening until this very moment. And then his eyes met mine. And I watched his face transforming. I took a step back into my captor at the darkness I saw on that beautiful face. He looked like the fires of hell burned in that gaze. And by the time he reached me I was very aware of the rage rolling off him and I was afraid that he was ready to commit murder. I swallowed. “Jonath—” He stopped me, his eyes cutting to the man behind me. But his words were for Jasper, “Take her inside.” T
Mila“Answer me. Each and every question.”My anger flared at his demand and I checked the urge to scream at him. I said, “No. I don’t think so, I don’t owe you anything.” As soon as the words left my mouth I cringed. Fûck. I do owe him now.Jonathan arched a brow but didn’t comment, instead he asked the first of his many questions. “Your name?”“Mila.” He waited for me to add to it. I didn’t.“Fine. Where did you come from?”“Reutov.” I answered. As far as I knew it was the truth, it was the last town I was in before coming to Moscow.“Who are you running from?” He questioned next. His grey eyes fixed on my face, noticing every nuance as if he was ready to catc
JonathanThe ghosts from the past didn’t let me get much sleep, so I spent most of my night running away from them. Wandering around the penthouse from one corner to another. I watched the sunrise as my thoughts, not for the first time, went to the woman sleeping above stairs. I had gone to her room at least four times to check up on her. One of those times I had watched as she had whimpered and silently cried in her sleep, going through a nightmare that caused her body to twitch. I had wanted to go to her and make her comfortable, to pull her out of her nightmare. But I wasn’t sure that I should, at least not now. Not until we have our talk. And all the facts were clear between us. Not to deny it, I was feeling a little bit guilty too and that had stopped me. I wondered if her nightmares included being kidnapped and stuffed into a car trunk. I hope not.And th
MilaRemove your clothes.His words echoed in my mind. Around me. As I stared at him.But I wasn’t seeing the golden God I was attracted to. I wasn’t seeing Jonathan.No.All I could see were the men surrounding me.All I could hear was ‘Remove your clothes’ followed by ‘Get naked'.All I could feel were hands snatching and tearing at my clothes when I didn’t comply.My blood pressure went up as my heart skyrocketed inside my chest. Sweat collected near my temple and behind my nape. My stomach rolled with a sick feeling.It had been too long since I last experienced it. The panic attack. I had thought I had outgrown that particular nasty affliction when I had stopped having them.
Mila “Because next time, your arse would be bare and my hand would be more punishing.” His words filled me with another rush of irritation, not for the punishment part though, but how he was threatening me. But then, I should be more focused on the punishment part, right? He did say he would spànk my bare arse next time. But surprisingly, it was not as much a pressing issue as it should be. For fûck’s sake, my arse was still aching from how he had just delivered the very first spanking of my life. And with that came the sensation of heat that had settled inside me. Not to let my irritation take hold of me, I decided to do something to quench that heat. I moved closer and settled my lips on his. The last kiss he had given me was too soft and I didn’t get a fill of it. For reasons unknown to me, I w
MilaI looked at my reflection in the mirror. No longer my hair was blonde but now their natural color shone beneath the bathroom lights. My hazel eyes looked back at me, for the first time after so long I catalogued my features to understand what he sees when he looks at me.I guess my skin color was a little different, not too pale and yet not completely what one would call olive, and then there was my figure, which I knew for a fact was the first thing any man notices when he looks at me. I don’t like it myself for the very same reason.But for some stupid reason, I was sure Jonathan wasn’t as superficial. He wouldn’t be interested in me just because I was good to look at. He himself looked like a golden God, I was sure women must throw themselves at him. So for him to want me, I must’ve something else to offer him.I
NINA I woke up to the sensation of cold seeping into my body. When I blinked my eyes, my cheek was pressed on something cold and hard. Concrete. Rough, unyielding, and damp. My head throbbed, my body a twisted coil of aches and bruises. And the air around me was thick with something pungent—coppery, metallic, the scent of rusted iron and dried blood. Darkness pressed in around me, thick and suffocating. My fingers twitched against the floor, searching for something, anything, to anchor me. But all I found was the sharp bite of chains wrapped around my wrist and ankle. Panic tore through me. No. No, no, no. I tugged, yanking hard, but the metal didn’t budge. It only cut deeper, biting into my skin. My breath shuddered out, my heart raced in my chest. Think. Think. Where am I? What happened? The last thing I remember— The park. The woods. The chase. Lachlan. But it wasn’t Lachlan who had caught me. The masked man had manhandled me and then... drugged me. My hand
Twisted Marriage: A Dark MMF Mafia Romance Now Released!!!_____INNESSA ______ “There you are.” I shuddered at his slimy voice. Zaman pulled me toward him, the man almost twice my age my father engaged me to. “I was looking for you.” “Let me go.” I said, keeping my fear at bay. He was a kind of man who feasted on my fear. The first time I had tried to appeal to his kindness he had laughed in my face and told me to forget that I’ll ever get out of this arrangement. “I will.” He stepped closer into me. His alcohol laced breath making me gag. “But first, I want to have a kiss from my soon to be bride.” “We are not married yet,” I replied, inching away from him. “We will be. Only a month.” Pain burned around my wrist where he so mercilessly gripped me, but anger was also overpowering. “Oh, don’t be shy... you are going to be my wife soon enough. Your father all but sold you to me.” Not just a month. But one month. Two weeks. Three days. But who’s counting, right? And
FOR MY DEAR READERS... This work includes themes of sexual abuse, violence, dubious consent, somno _____, and other sexual practices that may be considered profane, vulgar, or offensive to some readers. Reader discretion is advised, only for mature audiences. The author does not practices, neither agrees with the content of this book, it's purely for fictional and entertainment purposes. There's a list of TW (Trigger Warning) given below, please read them carefully and then choose if you want to read this book. Your mental health matters. ♡ Trigger Warnings: ABÚSE. AMNESIA, BETRAYÀL. BLACKMÀIL. BÔNDAGE. BRÁNDING. BREATH PLAY. CHOKING. DEGRÀDATION. DOUBLE PÈNETRATION. DÚBIOUS CONSENT. EDGÍNG. EXHIBITIONISM. FÔRCED ORGÀSMS. HUMILIÀTION. KIDNÀPPÈD. KNÍFE PLAY. MF/MM/MFM/MFMM. PÀIN. PARASÓMNIA. PRÀISE KÌNK. PRIMAL KÌNK. PUBLIC HUMILIATION. PTSD. REVENGE. SCÀRS. SLÀPPING. STÀLKING. SOMNOPHILIA TORTŮRE. TOYS. VIOLENCE. *The author does not pro
Epilogue II Four years later… Jonathan “What are you doing?” I questioned as my wife entered my home office and closed the door behind her. I was still angry at her for going out during the curfew with her friends but this woman wasn’t someone you could stay mad at. In the four years since we have been together I could write a book on the things she had made me angry for and on the other hand I can count it on three fingers for the times I had managed to keep up my anger and hold back from her for more than an hour. But yesterday was one of those few days which sent me to a point of no return. I glared at her as once again the cold fear gritted me when I had re
Epilogue Seven months later… Capetown Mila I slid out of the bed, my hand going to my protruding belly where our son was currently playing football with my bladder. I patted softly as I muttered, “Stop it, little cub, mama is awake.” I looked across the room at the small digital clock and realized that it was four in the morning. Even before I woke up I knew Jonathan wasn't in the bed with me. In the last few months he had focused on me and in expanding his wine business as much as h
MilaI married into a family of lunatics, I just prayed and hoped to god that this lunacy doesn’t affect my baby.The moment Jasper walked inside the door I knew something was wrong and he confirmed it when he said that he was taking me to the airport. Why? Because my husband wanted me safe which includes keeping me away from him and sending me to a corner of the world where no one could find me. I was all for it until I had something to lose. And for me that was Jonathan and for my baby it’s father.So like a nice human being, I kindly asked Jasper to take me back to my husband but very unkindly he repeated my husband’s words to me, “I am sorry, Mrs Sokolov but he also said, ‘If she doesn’t obey, drug her’ and I really do not want to do it.”Because I am a really good p
JonathanWhen I reached upstairs I found my brother standing in his bedroom. He asked without facing me, “Why did you keep all of this?”Emotions clogged my throat as I thought about all the years I spent cursing our fate. Wishing that it had been me instead of him. Praying that he would come back. And now looking at him, I couldn’t form words. Without saying anything, I closed the distance between us and hugged him from behind.There was a moment where he stood still and I doubted that he even breathed, before he turned around and hugged me properly. “I couldn’t seal it all away. I missed you every single day for twelve years, Jeremy. And I can’t explain it in words how happy I am that you are here.”He patted my back and when we parted I watched him blinking away his tears
JonathanThe funeral was a big fanfare. Not because all those people who attended my father’s funeral were his friends or respected him, only because they were showing their loyalty to the Sokolov family to not have any repercussions. The ruling family of the Russian mafia. And even then most of them weren’t here to bid goodbye to my dead father, no, they were here to see the man who had come back from the dead.They were here to speculate and show their surprise and their sympathy. Sympathy on how a father who mourned his son to his last breath didn’t get to see him alive. They blamed it on fate. But I say it was Karma. They were here to wonder how a man like Gerard Sokolov could die in his sleep. Because they didn’t know that he was killed, murdered by his own daughter in law.“Knyaz.”
JeremiahI stood at the threshold of the room that was kept as a souvenir where I lost a part of me. A part that makes me hate my own reflection and a part that made me fill with deep seated bitterness that refused to leave me. Because of which now I could no longer look at my own reflection without feeling rage and disgust at what I see and when I see it only feel the need to cause mayhem.From what I had heard, my father kept it as a reminder to get revenge from the man who was responsible for his loss of a wife and his heir.But me... seeing this, all I wanted to do was to alight it once again so that I wouldn’t have to recall the heat I had felt, the blow to my head, the sender of betrayal that had consumed me, the blood that had seeped out of my mother from the bullet between her chest. Like me, she hadn’t expected that.