“What do you mean, you sold me to the Russian mob?” Ana never thought her father capable of betrayal, but the truth hits harder than she ever imagined. Sold to New York’s most feared Bratva boss, Dmitri Orlov, Ana’s life turns into a waking nightmare. Dmitri is a man whispered about in dark alleys—a ruthless crime lord with a reputation carved in blood. With his sharp suits, chilling smile, and a voice that can command armies, he’s the very definition of danger. And now, he owns Ana. Their arrangement is simple: she’s the price her father paid, and Dmitri has no intention of letting her forget it. Cold and calculating, he’s determined to use Ana to exact his revenge. But there’s a darker, more complicated truth behind Dmitri’s anger. The beast with a soul as black as midnight has a weakness—and it’s her. Every heated touch, every possessive growl, chips away at Ana’s defenses. Despite her fear, she starts to see glimpses of the man behind the monster, the one who wants to claim her not just in body, but in soul. But falling for Dmitri was never part of the plan, especially when she discovers she’s carrying his child. Now Ana’s running for her life, caught between her father’s betrayal and Dmitri’s wrath. But there’s one thing she can’t escape—the fact that no matter how far she goes, she belongs to him. And Dmitri will stop at nothing to bring his wife—and his heir—home. Because in their world, “till death do us part” isn’t just a vow—it’s a warning.
View MoreEpilogue NikolaiOne Year Later“No, I am not fucking singing.”“You made a deal.”“Over a year ago.”Timur picked up a piece of cake and shoved it into his mouth, and Anatoly glared at him. I stood by the grill, watching them bicker. They’d been at it all day, something about a bet they made a year ago that I hadn’t paid much attention to at the time. Timur caught my eye, grinning like a kid with a secret, and I knew I was about to hear something absurd.“Hey, Niko,” he called out, taking a sip of his beer. “Remember that bet Anatoly and I made at your son’s christening?”I raised an eyebrow, flipping the burgers. “Vaguely. What about it?”.“Well,” Timur continued, his grin growing wider, “I lost. And now I have to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to your son in true Russian style.”Anatoly barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “He said he’d nail it with the accent and all if he lost. So, now he has to do it.”Timur shot him a playful glare, then shrugged, clearly not too upset about having to
“What’s wrong? You’re seriously asking me that?” I sat up, pulling the covers tighter around myself and struggling to keep my voice low for the sake of our baby. “You come home at thishour without so much as a text, and you want to know what’s wrong?” Niko didn’t answer. His face was calm, unbothered, which only made my frustration worse. “Do you even realize what it feels like? To be sitting here, waiting for you, wondering if you’ll bother to show up at all?” I could feel the heat rising in my chest, my hands gripping the blanket as if that would stop the trembling. “It’s like you don’t even care anymore. It’s been three months, Niko. Three months since I felt you: your touch, your kisses, your presence in this goddamn house. “What’s wrong?I should be askingyouthat! What’s wrong, Niko? Don’t you want me anymore? Don’t you love me anymore? I mean, it should be simple, right? If there’s someone else out there—” “Don’t.” His icy time cut me off like a sharp knife. “Don’t finish tha
RosalynThree Months LaterMidnight.The city outside our penthouse apartment slept, but I was wide awake, patting Cian on my chest while watching rain pelts mercilessly hit the glass and purple lightning streaks flash through the dark skies. The soft glow from the nightlight cast shadows on the walls, making the room feel larger than it was, and the cold only made me miss him more.For three months, Niko’s absence weighed heavily on me. It was past midnight now, and he still wasn’t home. He had been working late for weeks now, always caught in something. There was always an excuse. His world was full of barricades, things he didn’t want me to touch or be a part of, and it was frustrating.I sighed, gently rocking the baby as he slowly quieted in my arms. “Who’s Mommy’s champion?” I kissed his nose, and his tiny face scrunched up for a moment before his breathing steadied. I looked down at him, my heart swelling with love. He was so beautiful and perfect, but I couldn’t shake the exha
Nikolai“I’ve got you.”“We’re going to do this together.”Everything echoed in a torturing slow motion: the heartbeat on the monitor, the footsteps and voices of the medical team swarming around us, their efficient movements a blur, her agonizing screams when the contractions hit, the sound of her tears, her nails digging into my skin as she held on tight, fighting for our baby.Fighting for us.The seconds seemed excruciatingly longer and more painful. Until....Until we heard him cry.Then, my heart stopped.I’d heard babies cry. Heck, I helped Freya change Alina and Alexei’s diapers one time. But this was different, more personal. The wails hit my chest, snatching my breath away at the first sound, and when the nurse picked him up, his stretched-out tiny arms and legs pinched me in the gut.Rosalyn was already fast asleep on the bed. The doctor said the pain knocked her out. So, I held the little fighter—our son.Mine.The last time I experienced a feeling as pumped as this was the
Our conversation paused midway, and we dragged our eyes back to the contenders, only to see Egor pull back his chair to the table and sit down grouchily.“The earlier we start feasting, the better.”Freya took the hint, rising to her feet to bring out extra plates from the kitchen while Niko withdrew with what looked like a triumphant smirk as he ushered Nadia to the chair beside their older brothers. He stiffened once she sat down, and she fidgeted with her fingers.“Egor?”He didn’t look at her. “What?”A tear dropped on her cheek. “I missed you.”His jaw flexed, but his fingers stopped drumming on the table. “You look skinny. Eat first, and we’ll talk later.”****More family members joined the long table; some of them I recognized, and others were unfamiliar. Smiling, I rose from the table to accompany Freya in serving the dishes. The aroma of vegetables, chicken, and Russian food filled the air, and for a moment, everything felt normal.Until a subtle ache stirred in my abdomen.
She waved a shiny silver spoon at Nikolai. “Niko? When are we finally going to dig in? I might just abandon this chicken and heat up some fries, you know?”“He wants us to die of hunger.” Egor pitched in, addressing everyone, but his eyes were fixed on me.I gulped.The aura surrounding this man was enough to make anyone fall on their knees in fear, but the children and his wife paraded around him like he was an ordinary man selling flowers on the street.“Maybe if you asked him, he’d comply in a heartbeat.”Reacting was easier with a forward and blunt Freya, but how was I supposed to respond to a teasing Egor? Even if we’d gotten acquainted pretty fast, and he formally acknowledged me as his sister-in-law, I wasn’t sure how to act around him.Be nice?Tease back?Be formal?Thankfully, Nikolai swooped in to save my tied tongue. Flashing a smile at Freya, he put Alina down and stationed himself behind my chair. “We’ll eat soon. I’m expecting someone.”Egor’s brows dipped, and he sat u
RosalynBy the time the chicken was cooked, the kids were already halfway through stuffing their faces with burgers and fries. Swaying her hips with purposeful strides and feminine grace, Freya emerged from the kitchen with thick muffins in one tray and brownies in another, and behind her, her husband, Egor, had the decorated tray of grilled chicken.The house buzzed with Yezhovs everywhere: distant cousins, cousins, uncles, and aunties. Children played around the house, a few of them running around with water guns and being yelled at by their mothers to take the gun fight outside.It was fun to watch everyone mingling, like small worlds in a much larger one. The older girls, perfect Generation-Z representations, went upstairs for privacy while the boys played sports outside.I stuck closer to Freya and Yezhov, embracing the warmth that came with their side talks and laughter. A few men were gathered on the table, bantering in their language, but we paid them no heed.Alina was the fi
My voice echoed around the house, met with a cold, silent response. I’d never panicked before, not even when the worst things happened. So, this sinking feeling, like icicles creeping around the corners of my chest, and the sudden sweep of worry that enveloped me couldn’t be signs of panic.“Rosa? Where the hell are you?”I plucked my phone out to place a call. Avian had been on ground patrol duty. He said no one saw her leave the house. The cars were untouched under the shade. He wasn’t lying. I’d have been alerted the second she left the house, but I received nothing. Bare-chested, I marched out of the room, searching from every room in the house to the kitchen, to the foyer, and then outside.I went round the house and….My heart stopped thrashing crazily against my chest.Under one of the trees in the backyard, with lit lamp posts lined across the pathway, she sat on the iron bench, her head thrown back, gazing at the stars. A gentle breeze ruffled the tips of her hair, and the he
Four Months LaterEvery day for the past months had not been what I expected. A fucking rollercoaster ride with my wife was not what I’d looked forward to after Paris. Mustering the most strength I could, I threw the moss-green stress ball across the room, watching it fly above Anatoly’s head.Goddamnit. Goddamnit all to hell.Anatoly didn’t so much as flinch or bat an eyelash. Picking his fingers, and without lifting his head, he murmured, “It’s that bad?”Bad?I wished it was fucking bad. Then, I’d have at least had breakfast this morning. I wouldn’t have had six breadsticks thrown at me or gotten a smack on my chest after advising her to skip carbs and wine for the health of the baby. If it werebad, she’d have allowed me to kiss her good night last night. I would not have had the pillow flung at my head instead.What I was experiencing wasworse.If it wasn’t the strangest of cravings, then she was crying for no reason. And if she wasn’t crying, she was definitely getting mad at me
ANA “Dochka.” The familiar word slices through the heavy air, pulling me from my thoughts. I turn, seeing my father standing in the doorway. He’s dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, holding a small bouquet that feels like a cruel joke. His eyes are haunted as they meet mine. He’s trying to smile, trying to be strong. For me. I walk toward him without a word, stepping into his arms as they open, and the second his warmth wraps around me, something inside me breaks. A tear slips free, hot and fast, but I wipe it away quickly, as if it never existed. He can’t know. He’s carrying enough guilt without my pain adding to it. “How are you holding up?” His voice is rougher than usual as he hands me the bouquet—small, delicate, like me. Like the old me. “Do you want me to stay? I can wait with you until it’s time.” I force a smile so tight it hurts. “I’m fine, Papa. It’s my wedding day, right? I’m happy.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. He sees through it, his jaw tightening as he r...
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