DAMIANThe drive is short, too short for me to settle the burning fury in my chest. Every second that ticks by is slow torture. Fingers clench and unclench, itching to swipe the steering from the driver and rage all the way there.However, I need to bid my time. It makes the punishment worth it.After what seems like an eternity, we arrive at the place. It is a nondescript warehouse on the outskirts of the city—a Bratva safehouse masquerading as an abandoned shipping company.The kind of place where secrets are buried under layers of sweat, blood and fear.I step into the building. The air inside is thick with rust and the musky stench of sweat. That's when I hear sounds–more like grunts and muffled cries, with the dull thud of fists against flesh–which leads me to where the action is happening.All the attention falls on me when I cross into the room. My men don't need instructions as they cave a path for me by parting like the Red Sea. Heads bow as I pass with murmured “Pakhan” sli
LILIANA I let out the breath I'd been holding the second the door clicks shut behind me. My pulse slows, climbing down the frantic rhythm it had been beating moments ago. His gaze. I still feel it lingering on my skin like a brand, heavy and heated. My body tingled in all the wrong places and betrayed me in ways I couldn't control. Get it together, I scold myself but it is no use. Thinking about Damian's eyes roaming over me has already turned me into a slippery, shaking mess. The quiet in my room should've brought me peace, but it doesn't. My chest feels tight, constricted as though his gaze is still pinning me in place. It had burned—hot and unrelenting—stripping me bare while I pretended not to notice. Pretended, but I did. I always do. Rachel enters the room quickly carrying the new clothes. Her hands moves with practiced ease as she steps into the walk-in closet to hang them up. There is no urgency to her work, no reason to rush. The afternoon sunlight spills into
LILIANAI release a sharp exhale of breath to shake off the remnants of Zip's hostility. I turn back to Rachel and ask, “Why is she like that?” For a moment, she hesitates. When I think she won't answer, she sighs. “She has always been like that. Fiercely protective of her brothers. Especially Damian after what happened with…” She shakes her head and picks up the shopping bags.There's something in her voice like an edge of something unspoken. I cling onto it. “There's something else, isn't it?”Her lips press into a thin line as the question lingers between us. She steps back with a tight hold on the bags. “I-I should go,” her tone becomes nervous. “I have things to do.”“You know why Rachel,” I accuse, watching with satisfaction as she falters slightly in her steps.”Why are you making it so hard for me?” I press, trying to keep my tone casual, though my curiosity barely allows me to.She pauses by the door with her hand on the knob. “Why does it matter to you?” She replies at last,
DAMIANLiliana. Her name sticks in my mind like a thorn. No matter how much I try to drown myself in work, she's there. Green-eyed, sharp-tongued and impossible to forget. She's the fire I don't want to touch but can't seem to step away from. I don't want to do this having just lost something precious to me, yet I want to be scorched by her. Is this also another craving of my twisted soul? When a servant had delivered her test results from the doctor, I felt a tightening in my chest that I refused to name. The thought of her being pregnant for her late husband shouldn't have mattered. But it did. Alice's observations had planted the idea and I'd convinced myself I didn't care either way. Then I saw the report. A mild flu. Not pregnant. Relief hit me harder than I wanted to admit, followed closely by something darker. Guilt?No, I shove it down. I'm not that man. I can't be. Whatever I feel for her is nothing more than irritation, and…and blinding lust for the soft curves of her b
LILIANA I sift through my closet in search for something that is halfway decent. Most of the clothes here are too extravagant or too casual for whatever Damian's plans might involve. Finally, I settle on a simple fitted, black dress and lay it on the bed. Instead of putting it on, I sit down with my hands in my thighs and stare at them. The thought of his sudden decision to have me sit on the table with them jingles like an ominous bell. Why am I even invited to dinner when I'm his hostage? The invite feels like another one of his power plays or another chance for him to humiliate me as always but for the life of me, I can't even figure out why. And then there's his warning—don’t be late or you'll regret it. The memory of his cold tone tightens something in my chest.I sigh as I rub my palms over my thighs. Should I just go downstairs and get it over with?Or would staying here prove I'm not playing his game? My thoughts spiral, arguments at war in my head until there's a brisk
LILIANAThe sound of the tie sliding through his fingers is maddening slow, heightening my anxiety as I hold onto the railing for my dear life. I should be rebelling now if I were in my right senses but somehow, I'm doing every of his bidding without so much pressure from him. How the fuck did I go from fighting him at every turn to agreeing dumbly like a lamb to be sacrificed?His hand brushes my wrist to loop the fabric around it, and I nearly jump. His touch lingers on my skin, warm and firm and very unlike…unlike Kyle's.What is wrong with me for fucks sake?!I hate the way my skin tingles under his fingertips. It's foreign to me and causes a lot of sensory overload. I manage to, very discreetly, press my thighs together to quench the pressure building in my cunt. His fingers reach to fully cup one of my sensitive breast, kneading and pinching the nipple in between his thumb and forefinger. I grip the railing tighter with an audible gasp. The metal grounds me even when my body
DAMIANCall it selfish. Say it is depraving. But I never assured you I was a good man. I'm fucked up in more ways than can count and I have scars to show for it but it doesn't mean I don't have an iota of what justice is…“Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” She clenches hard against my fingers. So hard that I fear they'd break from the force. Her head thrown back, she shamelessly rides on my fingers, milking it for all its worth. …And it's the reason I can't let her go. My pride would take the hit if I release her after what her husband did. I don't want to forgive him and therefore, she has to take the fall for it. Soon, she will. She whimpers again, a loud drawn out cry of ecstasy but her hips doesn't relent. We're out in the open space, while she chases after her release like a sex starved woman.She simply has no shame. Didn't Kyle treat her right? Well, how could he when he had such a small dick.I love how tightly her walls wrap around me, how wet her hole is for me. It's driving m
DAMIANThe way to my room feels too goddamn far away with my arousal making an embarrassing tent in front of my pants. It takes effort to not wince while walking. Something as mundane has now become so difficult 'cos of it.How do I make it up there in record time before I spill my seeds in my trousers like a fucking horny teenage boy?I feel like a seventeen year old again, thanks to my carelessness. Thankfully, the hallway is quiet which means the house helps might have retired for the night. Who would want to bump into their Pakhan in this sorry state?“Pakhan.” Turns out I spoke too early. I turn around to see one of the house helps coming from the stairs leading to the living room. “What?” I snap.Sighting my discomfort, she lowers her head immediately, color staining her cheeks. “Lady Alice wants to know what's taking so long.” “I'll be back. If they can't wait, they can continue dinner without me.” I tell her and resume on my way to my quarters. As soon as I get to the land
LILIANAEverything is a blur around me. The array of colorful dresses that Rachel spreads on the bed and her robotic response when I'm too numb to do anything but stare blankly at them.Alice comes to style my hair and when she's done, Rachel picks out a red number. I know that the dress is only going to make me more noticeable in the crowd. But hopelessness keeps me quiet.“We don't want to be late, the Pakhan is going to be angry.” Rachel says in a quiet voice. When I look at her face, she looks away from me.These days, she's been terribly distant and avoiding me generally. She barely steps foot in here except with Alice's prodding. I can tell she's burdened but I know she won't say what it is.Whatever it might be, I hope she deals with it. At least, she's lucky she's not about to be sold off to some brute whose existence she has no idea about. This will become my life in a few hours, oh Zot! {Oh God!}There's shuffling around me, Rachel flinching as she moves out of sight and A
LILIANAI've made it my mission to avoid him at all costs. If I hear his voice echoing somewhere in the house, I stay locked in my room. When I do leave, I take routes I know he wouldn't. It's easier this way—less suffocating.I avoid Zip too. She's taken a sudden liking to Melanie, and the two of them seem to find joy in whispering and laughing just loud enough for me to overhear.“Isn't it pathetic?” I once caught Zip saying in the hallway. “Acting like a guest when she's just another debt. How long until he gets bored and tosses her out like the rest?” “Ouch!” Melanie exclaimed dramatically, a hand pressed to her chest. “That was too harsh.”“You know you're worth more to the family than worthless tramps like her.” Zip said in a bid to appease her.Their cruel laughter followed, and I've steered clear of them ever since. Lately, I've been feeling worse than usual. On most mornings, I don't even get out of bed until noon. My body feels heavy, weighed down my feverish spells that c
NEW CHARACTER POV ALERT!RACHELThe patio smells like mint and cigarette smoke, ruining the afternoon breeze which is supposed to be spilling in. Zip leans back in her chair, legs stretched out like the billionaire woman that she is. She inspects her nails, her tone bored.“I told him if the car doesn't scream custom, don't even bother parking it outside my house. He threw a fit after hearing that and now I'm the one who's childish.”Melanie sits cross-legged, exhaling a long thin stream of smoke. She smirks. “And they still show up with stock rims and half-assed cologne. It's embarrassing.”“Embarrassing? Please. Try insulting.” Zip flicks her fingers like she's brushing off dust. “The last guy? Told me his ‘investment’ portfolio was NFTs. NFTs, Melanie. As if I want to deal with someone whose assets are digital clipart.”I roll my eyes from where I'm mixing Melanie's cocktail drink. Isn't she the one leeching off Damian by being his whore?Oh, for a chance of freedom let me send he
DAMIAN Two days later…I occupy myself instead with plans of the Grand Casino opening happening in less than a month from now. Everytime my thoughts stray, I have to remind myself that I'm no longer a teenager to be fantasizing about a woman like an obsessive prick.The air in my office is thick with cigarette smoke and the low hum of conversation. Zoran leans against the edge of my desk with his arms crossed while Andros flicks his lighter repeatedly, a faint click-click filling the silence between words. Sicily is in a corner, swirling whiskey in his glass like he's got nowhere better to be. Sydney lounges in the chair opposite me, already halfway through his second drink. The scowl never eases off his face. “We need to be smarter about the guest list,” Sicily says at last after an argument that ensued between Sydney and Andros on whom to invite. “Inviting Sergei could backfire.”Andros had suggested we invite all the Bratva heads regardless of if we've had a fallout, but Sydney
DAMIANThe way to my room feels too goddamn far away with my arousal making an embarrassing tent in front of my pants. It takes effort to not wince while walking. Something as mundane has now become so difficult 'cos of it.How do I make it up there in record time before I spill my seeds in my trousers like a fucking horny teenage boy?I feel like a seventeen year old again, thanks to my carelessness. Thankfully, the hallway is quiet which means the house helps might have retired for the night. Who would want to bump into their Pakhan in this sorry state?“Pakhan.” Turns out I spoke too early. I turn around to see one of the house helps coming from the stairs leading to the living room. “What?” I snap.Sighting my discomfort, she lowers her head immediately, color staining her cheeks. “Lady Alice wants to know what's taking so long.” “I'll be back. If they can't wait, they can continue dinner without me.” I tell her and resume on my way to my quarters. As soon as I get to the land
DAMIANCall it selfish. Say it is depraving. But I never assured you I was a good man. I'm fucked up in more ways than can count and I have scars to show for it but it doesn't mean I don't have an iota of what justice is…“Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” She clenches hard against my fingers. So hard that I fear they'd break from the force. Her head thrown back, she shamelessly rides on my fingers, milking it for all its worth. …And it's the reason I can't let her go. My pride would take the hit if I release her after what her husband did. I don't want to forgive him and therefore, she has to take the fall for it. Soon, she will. She whimpers again, a loud drawn out cry of ecstasy but her hips doesn't relent. We're out in the open space, while she chases after her release like a sex starved woman.She simply has no shame. Didn't Kyle treat her right? Well, how could he when he had such a small dick.I love how tightly her walls wrap around me, how wet her hole is for me. It's driving m
LILIANAThe sound of the tie sliding through his fingers is maddening slow, heightening my anxiety as I hold onto the railing for my dear life. I should be rebelling now if I were in my right senses but somehow, I'm doing every of his bidding without so much pressure from him. How the fuck did I go from fighting him at every turn to agreeing dumbly like a lamb to be sacrificed?His hand brushes my wrist to loop the fabric around it, and I nearly jump. His touch lingers on my skin, warm and firm and very unlike…unlike Kyle's.What is wrong with me for fucks sake?!I hate the way my skin tingles under his fingertips. It's foreign to me and causes a lot of sensory overload. I manage to, very discreetly, press my thighs together to quench the pressure building in my cunt. His fingers reach to fully cup one of my sensitive breast, kneading and pinching the nipple in between his thumb and forefinger. I grip the railing tighter with an audible gasp. The metal grounds me even when my body
LILIANA I sift through my closet in search for something that is halfway decent. Most of the clothes here are too extravagant or too casual for whatever Damian's plans might involve. Finally, I settle on a simple fitted, black dress and lay it on the bed. Instead of putting it on, I sit down with my hands in my thighs and stare at them. The thought of his sudden decision to have me sit on the table with them jingles like an ominous bell. Why am I even invited to dinner when I'm his hostage? The invite feels like another one of his power plays or another chance for him to humiliate me as always but for the life of me, I can't even figure out why. And then there's his warning—don’t be late or you'll regret it. The memory of his cold tone tightens something in my chest.I sigh as I rub my palms over my thighs. Should I just go downstairs and get it over with?Or would staying here prove I'm not playing his game? My thoughts spiral, arguments at war in my head until there's a brisk
DAMIANLiliana. Her name sticks in my mind like a thorn. No matter how much I try to drown myself in work, she's there. Green-eyed, sharp-tongued and impossible to forget. She's the fire I don't want to touch but can't seem to step away from. I don't want to do this having just lost something precious to me, yet I want to be scorched by her. Is this also another craving of my twisted soul? When a servant had delivered her test results from the doctor, I felt a tightening in my chest that I refused to name. The thought of her being pregnant for her late husband shouldn't have mattered. But it did. Alice's observations had planted the idea and I'd convinced myself I didn't care either way. Then I saw the report. A mild flu. Not pregnant. Relief hit me harder than I wanted to admit, followed closely by something darker. Guilt?No, I shove it down. I'm not that man. I can't be. Whatever I feel for her is nothing more than irritation, and…and blinding lust for the soft curves of her b