Summer in Zürich is much different than in tropical countries. There is no scorching heat that burns the skin, no humid air that makes the body sticky. Instead, a cool breeze blows gently along the city streets, creating the perfect balance between warm and fresh.I smoothed the sleeves of my denim jacket as I walked beside Pascha. We were dressed casually. I was still wearing a white t-shirt wrapped in a denim jacket and paired with jeans and sneakers. Meanwhile, Pascha was also relaxed in a black sweater and jeans, which felt too casual for business. “We're really going to a business meeting like this?” I glanced at him with raised eyebrows.Pascha just shrugged, not seeming to care at all. “I'm lazy.”I narrowed my eyes. “Lazy?”He turned to me, his flat expression slightly lifted by a small grin. “I don't plan on staying long, so why bother?”We finally arrived at a skyscraper with a very familiar logo stamped on the front. I paused momentarily, staring at the writing with a surp
I let my mind go back to that time—to the year when Pascha was not yet the Pascha Romanov he is now.I remember how he was still a young man trying to prove himself in his father's shadow. He spent long nights in the office, sitting behind a large desk with an endless stack of documents, occasionally throwing his pen in the air in frustration before finally looking up at me with a tired grin.“Bee, I'm not made for this.”And I would lean closer to him, rest my chin on his shoulder, then reply in a light tone, “It’s okay.”I was there when he was strategizing his first business and when he argued with senior executives who doubted his decisions. I saw him grow from an impatient young man to someone more dangerous.And then there was Mikaela.She came into the company a year after Pascha started taking over. I still remember how I first introduced her to Pascha.“She's smart,” I said at the time. “And I trust her.”And Pascha, with ease, accepted her.Mikaela became a manager in one of
I close my eyes, letting the cool breeze from Lake Zürich brush my face.The air here felt different and fresher than San Francisco's. For a few moments, I let my mind wander.I didn't care what Pascha was doing next to me. It didn't matter if he was looking at me or busy with his thoughts. I just wanted to enjoy the Zürich air cool down all of the things spinning in my head."Do you remember?" he asked, his voice a soft murmur, laced with an unusual calm.I opened my eyes slowly, turning my head towards him. "What?"Pascha stared at the lake, his expression unreadable, but the corners of his lips twitched ever so slightly.“You once said you wanted to leave,” he mused. “Switzerland. Sheep. A simple life. Do you still dream about it?"I was silent, letting his words sink into my head.Then, I smiled a little.Oh. That.I remember that.Pascha and I—still young, still full of dreams and reckless plans—lay on his bed, talking about the future. I laughed, saying how much I wanted to run
I woke up to the morning light streaming in through my window blinds.The air in San Francisco felt much different from Zürich. warmer, more humid, with the sound of the waves clearly audible.I let out a long breath, rubbing my face before stretching. I thought there would be silence this morning, but there wasn't.From outside my bedroom, Max's laughter could be heard, mixed with the all-too-familiar heavy grumbling.I blinked, frowning.Pascha.I snorted softly, pulling my blanket higher before finally remembering that Pascha really seemed to be living in this house now.Without an invitation.Without permission.Without realizing that this house is mine, not his.I let out a long sigh, finally giving up on staying in bed and getting up.When I opened the door and walked out, the smell of something burnt immediately greeted me.I refrained from groaning.I walked into the kitchen and immediately saw a sight that no longer surprised me.Max was standing on a small stool with an over
A sharp buzz pierced my ears.It was like the sound of the explosion had left residual echoes inside my head, spinning, spinning, until I felt nauseous.Everything was a blur.Chaos erupted around me. people dashing frantically, their voices crashing together in a deafening roar. The noise swelled into an overwhelming cacophony, blurring the line between reality and the storm inside my mind.My ears rang with a sharp, relentless intensity, each piercing note drilling into my bones, sending shockwaves through my skull. The pain throbbed, deep and merciless, unraveling my thoughts in the relentless tide of sound.I wanted to vomit.My hands trembled as I tried to steady myself on the floor, but my body felt too weak.I nearly slipped off the table if Kyara hadn’t pulled me back just in time.Her hands gripped my arms tightly, tighter than usual, her breathing ragged, her eyes huge with fear. I can't remember the last time I saw Kyara like this.I hugged her. Holding her body that was as
I had just prepared to leave when the sound of footsteps filled the emergency room. I looked up, and Pascha stood in the doorway. His jaw hardened, and his dark gray eyes locked on me.I shoved my phone into my bag. I frowned. “Pascha?”“Move to another room. I will prepare everything for you to get better.” He said.I let out a breath, trying to stop myself from rolling my eyes. “I'm not sick. I'm fine. I'm just in a bit of shock, and I don't need hospitalization.”Pascha hardened his jaw. “At least for one night,” his voice was softer now but still insistent. "You need to undergo intensive treatment, just in case.”“The doctor already said that I'm fine.” I shook my head. “So, I'm going home. Max know about this?”Pascha shook his head. “No. I made sure he doesn't know anything.”I breathed a sigh of relief. But that meant I had to get home quickly. Max would be looking for me if I stayed here too long.I walk to the other side of the ER. Kyara was lying on the far bed, her face st
The warm water continued to flow, soaking my skin and wrapping my body in warmth that should make me more at ease.But with Pascha still standing behind me, touching me too carefully and slowly, relaxing was the last thing I could think of.His hands were still there, washing my body with movements that took longer than he should have.I bit my lip, holding myself back, but every time his fingers brushed my skin, I could feel a burn sensation creeping up slowly."Pascha," I whispered warningly.He ignored me.Or rather, he enjoys watching me try to restrain myself too much.His hands moved slowly, too slowly, brushing over my skin as if he had all the time in the world to do so. I groaned in annoyance, almost losing control, then pushed his arm away."Get out."He didn't budge.I turned my head, glaring at him sharply, but he grinned instead, his expression full of the arrogance I desperately wanted to destroy."Why?" he murmured, his tone low and seductive."Because I told you to get
This morning should feel normal.At least, that's what I whisper to myself as I stand in the kitchen, pouring pancake batter onto a hot griddle.The smell of melting butter and vanilla filled the air, giving a false sense of peace because, inside my head, the remnants of yesterday's events still echoed.But I can't let it show.Max must not see it.So I forced myself to focus, preparing his favourite breakfast with slightly trembling hands, even though I tried to ignore it. Outside, the sound of rubber tyres sliding on asphalt and Max's triumphant shout echoed in the morning air.I turned my head toward the yard, and Max was speeding away in his mini Porsche. His face was full of excitement and a small arrogance clearly inherited from Pascha.Meanwhile, Pascha stood by the fence, arms crossed, observing this 'racing match' with a flat expression."Daddy! I'm going to be the best F1 driver in the world!" Max exclaimed, breaking dramatically before turning his head with his chin raised
"Why do humans even watch horror movies if they end up too scared to use the bathroom?" Max's voice rang out loud and clear, laced with heavy sarcasm."Because humans are stupid and sometimes like to create problems for themselves." Mischa added with an eerily calm tone, completely emotionless,I choked a little on my tea, trying not to laugh.At the dining table, Kyara and Aurora sat looking like zombies freshly risen from the grave. Kyara's hair was a mess, she was wearing my hoodie with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, while Aurora was still in my house dress, sleepily munching on breakfast. They were both sluggishly shoving pieces of toast into their mouths."Don’t tease Auntie Kyara and Auntie Aurora, Max," I warned him."But Mommy," Max protested, pointing at Kyara, "Auntie Kyara slept on the couch hugging my bike helmet! And she was mumbling in her sleep!""And she said 'don’t open that door, it’s a trap' three times," Mischa added flatly, staring at Kyara’s toast like it w
The dinner table was packed with small dishes. Lasagna, garlic bread, spinach salad, and a big bowl of mashed potatoes that Aurora had prepared with scientific precision. In the middle of it all, Max and Mischa sat side by side, both wearing plastic aprons with robots and unicorns on them.“So...,” Aurora muttered, “you have two kids now?”“It’s... an emergency situation.”Kyara, sitting beside Aurora, immediately jumped in. “Emergency? Emergency? From where I'm sitting, that mini-Russian has already claimed territory in your house.”Max, his mouth full of cheese, pointed at Mischa. "She's cool! She’s teaching me Russian! Now I can say ‘robot’ in a badass voice! Robot." Max said, with an accent that was... highly questionable.Mischa just kept chewing her bread, unfazed. Her gaze was blank yet sharp, like a tiny Wednesday Addams who had wandered into a happy family dinner."I don't need an invitation," Mischa said casually, shrugged. "I'm already here."Aurora raised an eyebrow. "You
That morning, the sun hung low over the San Francisco skyline, casting a soft glow that danced across the glass walls of the headquarters. I stood in front of the final presentation slide for the Lantum Mining project, the hum of the air purifier quietly filling the room, and my heart beat in an unfamiliar rhythm: slow… but heavy.Around me, the tech team was assembling the final report and prepping the soft launch of our AI-based ground stability monitoring system, soon to be deployed at the last satellite mining site. On the screen, every indicator was green. All the data integration, tech synchronization, and final testing. Flawless.“This,” I said, clicking the last slide on the remote, “is our final milestone. We’re officially done.”There was a soft round of applause. Not wild. But enough. Because this wasn’t just about finishing a project, it was validation. Of our work, our choices, our resilience.And for a moment, I just stood there. Staring at the screen.Then the breath ca
I was driving with one hand, the other resting under my chin. Kyara sat in the passenger seat, wearing oversized sunglasses that looked like they belonged to a celebrity fresh off a Vogue shoot.“I still can’t believe it,” she said. “She’s pregnant, Bell. And you… you just—” She twisted toward me and let out a strangled noise of pure frustration. “—offered yourself up like a sandwich he dropped five years ago!”I clenched my jaw. “Ky…”“No, seriously.” Her voice was low and sharp. “He slept with Mikaela when you were about to marry him, then you got pregnant, and now Mikaela is pregnant and you slept with him again. I’m sorry, but this isn’t a soap opera anymore. This is Shakespearean tragedy with WiFi.”I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I know. I… know.”But knowing wasn’t enough. Not when the shame crawled from the back of my neck to my cheeks, hot like a slap from the reality I’d refused to face. I ran a hand over my face, fingers trembling slightly.“Shit,” I muttered. “I fee
Glass shelves, matte-black drawers, and a line of clothing racks stretched from one end of the room to the other. Filled with suits, shirts, and, oddly, rows of women’s clothes.I pulled open the third drawer, just like he said.And there it was.A pale gray knit sweater, wide-necked and slightly stretched around the collar from too much wear. I took a quiet breath as my fingers brushed the fabric. I knew this sweater.It used to be my emergency jacket when New York suddenly turned cold in Pascha’s penthouse. Back when we were still living together after graduation, before everything turned to rubble. It was the sweater I wore while eating instant ramen at 2 a.m., waiting on the couch for him to get home late from Romanov HQ, watching criminal series he never quite understood.I shut the drawer slowly, my breath trembling in silence. Then I glanced at the clothing rack beside it.Dresses. Blouses. Sweaters. Trousers. Silk pajamas. All… in sizes that, in a way far too strange, fit me e
Morning sunlight slipped through the gap in the thin linen curtains, fluttering gently in the sea breeze.Warm. Soft. Peaceful.Too damn peaceful.My eyes fluttered open, and the first thing my brain registered was the ceiling—too high... and way too unfamiliar.Pascha’s mansion.I froze.My body tensed as I realized the warmth wrapped around my waist from behind wasn’t a blanket. It was an arm.Long. Strong. Bare.Wrapped around me like a gate I couldn’t break through.“Fuck,” I breathed out, almost like a prayer caught in my throat.A long sigh escaped my lips as I tried to piece things together. Didn’t take long. My head throbbed faintly. My neck still felt kissed. My legs still tangled in the mess of last night.Damn it.“Fuck me,” I whispered again.“Already did, Pchelka. More than once.”I jolted and half turned. “Pascha!”His eyes were still closed, face half-buried in the pillow, but a smug smile tugged at his lips.One of his arms was still draped around my waist, pulling me
The cold air brushed against my skin as Pascha pulled the fabric of my T-shirt, which was roughly uncovered until it pooled under my chin. My breath caught. I didn't have time to be embarrassed, let alone protest, because his eyes were already smouldering like a hungry animal spotting prey.“Shit.” His voice was hoarse, guttural like he was choking himself with desire.And then...Heat.His tongue swipes over my nipples in slow motion, too conscious, too deliberate, like he wants to memorize every earthquake he triggers in my body. I squirm, my back arching without realizing it, hands gripping his short hair. Whether to pull him away or to bring him closer, I don't even know."Pascha...” his name came out as a moan, broken by the vibrations he left behind every time his lips sucked, every time his teeth pressed with sweet menace.He growled, the vibrations flowing straight from his mouth to my chest, to my spine, to the rest of my body. His one hand gripped my hip, holding me immobile
Jullian hadn’t even made it fully to his feet when Pascha’s second punch slammed into his face. The sound was thick, flesh meeting bone, followed by Jullian’s groan as he crashed back down into the sand, his hand flying to his cheek, already red and starting to bruise.“Don’t you ever touch her again,” Pascha growled, his chest heaving, and I didn’t recognize this man at all.I threw myself between them, shoving at Pascha’s chest with both hands. But his body was like stone.“Stop! ARE YOU INSANE?!” I screamed, my voice caught somewhere between panic and rage.He didn’t answer. His eyes stayed locked on Jullian, who was now sitting up, propping himself on one arm, breathing hard.“He touched you,” Pascha shouted at me.“YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!” I snapped, standing in front of Jullian now. “You don’t get to decide when you’re my son’s father, and when you’re—whatever the hell you think you are!”Pascha finally turned to me.His eyes were burning.I swallowed hard. “You can’t just show up an
I froze.The sea breeze that had felt cool just moments ago now stung my skin like tiny needles. An inheritance?An heir?That... didn’t make any sense. My father was not someone who gave me anything. Not love, not protection, not even a place to return to after everything that happened at St. Sophia. He was the man who sat in the old armchair in our living room with those dark eyes that demanded A+ on every test, the man who raised a wooden ruler with a cold hand because of a single B.The man who, along with his wife—my biological mother—kicked me out of the house with one sentence: You’re a disgrace.And now... five years later, wrapped in a thin blanket under the night sky, hearing that the daughter they once labeled emotionally broken and too stubborn to love, the one they said could never compare to Ben—own everything they once used to crush me.My hands clenched the edge of the blanket. “Isn’t Ben the one managing everything?”Javier nodded . “Yeah. He handles the operations.