DMITRII’m halfway down the stairs when I hear footsteps behind me. My instinct sharpens, and for a moment, I slow, thinking it’s Ana. The thought makes my mind wander, unbidden, back to last night.Thank you for bringing Yelena home safely.The words still echo in my head. They weren’t what I intended to say. Hell, they felt wrong even as I said them. But there was something in Ana’s expression, that defiant tilt of her chin, like she was waiting for me to tear into her, waiting for the usual criticism. And in that split second, I saw it—how I was missing the bigger picture. She brought Yelena home in one piece. Yelena, who doesn’t stop until she’s blind drunk, was safe because of Ana.I don’t know how the thanks slipped out of my mouth, but they did. And somehow, it felt okay. Almost natural. The look of shock on her face was unexpected, but the real surprise was how light I felt afterward, like I’d broken some unspoken rule between us by not turning it into an argument.Lately, eve
We eat in silence, the clink of silverware the only sound in the room. And yet, despite the quiet, my mind keeps drifting to her, watching the way her lips move as she takes a bite, the way her fingers brush against the edge of her plate.This wasn’t supposed to happen.I wasn’t supposed to want her. But I do. And it’s a problem I can’t afford to have.Because no matter how much I might be drawn to Ana, she’s still Nikolai Petrov’s daughter. And I can never forget that.Yelena’s shoesclick on the hardwood floor as she strides into my office. I follow her, and the second I sit down at my desk, dropping my bag carelessly onto the table, she’s already spinning around like she owns the place.“You didn’t have to come with me, you know,” I mutter, leaning back in my chair, eyeing her with mild irritation.She ignores the tone, planting both hands on my desk with a mischievous grin. “Yeah, but if I’m going to learn how things work, I need to stick with you for a while, right?”I arch a brow
ANAI drag myself out of the car, my feet heavy as lead as I make my way to the graveyard behind the gated fence. Every step feels like I’m wading through thick mud, weighed down by the endless tears I’ve cried and the hollow ache in my chest. I don’t even know how I made it here, but somehow, I keep moving.I push open the gate with trembling fingers and let my legs carry me to the headstone. The graveyard is quiet, almost untouched, the few bodies buried here belonging to people connected to my family. It’s a private place, away from the world.It’s where my father buried my mother. Every year since I was two, he brought me here to visit her.“Mamochka.” I fall to my knees, letting my body crumble in front of her grave. The tears spill freely now, rolling down my cheeks as my shaking hands brush the dirt off the headstone.Maria Petrov. Mother and Wife. Gone, but never forgotten.I trace the letters with my fingertips, as if touching her name might somehow bring her closer to me.“M
“Oh gosh,” I mutter incoherently.Dmitri smiles. It’s the first time he’s ever smiled at me that way. Warmth touches every inch of his face, making his eyes look brighter and bluer, his cheekbones softer.Unable to stop myself, I reach up and touch his lips with my thumb.His smile drops, and I snatch my hand away as though burned.“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”“For what?”“Uh, I just—” I hesitate. “I haven’t seen you smile at me since we got married. I mean, there was the one time when Yelena was there, but it was because of her...”I don’t finish, and silence follows.We stare at each other, and it feels like an eternity. Something shifts between us, the air now charged with an undercurrent I can’t define but feel all the way down to my bones.What’s going on?I open my mouth to ask what’s changed, what this charged energy means, but the words die on my lips.“I’m going to kiss you now.”Dmitri surprises me by speaking first, his voice low.My heart stutters in my chest. I don’t know w
DMITRII wake slowly, blinking against the sunlight spilling through the window. I can feel warmth on my face, the rare sensation of peace wrapped around me. That’s unusual, considering I barely sleep more than five hours on a good night. The weight of endless responsibilities usually keeps me half-awake, always vigilant. But this morning feels different.Something shifts in the bed beside me.I turn my head, and there she is. Ana.I freeze.What is she doing here?And then it hits me—last night. The memories come flooding back as I glance around the room, seeing the telltale signs. The way we tangled together, the heat between us as she clung to me, the feel of her skin under my hands. We fucked, and I let myself fall asleep with her in my arms.I shouldn’t have.I should’ve walked away, should’ve left the room before things got messy. But instead, I stayed, and now I’m lying here like a damn fool, watching her sleep.I try to reason with myself, to dismiss the strange pull in my che
He nods and leans in again, kissing me deeper this time. There’s no question of patience or subtlety. We both know this is more than a kiss—we know where it will end. I let my towel fall when his hand touches the part where I tucked it in, and he ends the kiss to stare at me, sucking in a deep breath.I feel exposed under his stare, but he looks at me like I’m something unbelievable. It erases my vulnerability. His gaze is pure adoration, and his hands, when they cup my breasts, do so gently.“Dmitri,” I murmur his name, leaning in as his fingers tease my nipples to hardened peaks, awash with need and desire.Dmitri claims my lips again as his muscular arms encircle my body, closing the space between us. He nudges my legs apart, stepping in with a muscled thigh.I pant as his tongue slides into my mouth, and his hand cups my ass, kneading hard. Every part of me screams his name, wanting to be touched and set aflame by his hands.“Bed,” he whispers, lifting me off my feet.I scrub my f
ANA“Do you know what time it is?” Yelena’s voice pops into my office like a bright, yellow ray of sunshine.I glance up from my paperwork to see her head peeking around the door, a grin already plastered on my face. “What time is it?”The door swings open wider, and there she is, in all her mini-skirt glory, her arms thrown wide like she’s about to announce a surprise party. “Shopping time!” she declares, as if it’s a national holiday.I laugh, shaking my head and pointing at the mountain of paperwork threatening to swallow my desk. “I’d love to, but I’ve got work, Yelena. Crime doesn’t take a day off.”She plops down into the chair opposite me, dramatically sighing like I’ve just told her there’s no wi-fi. “These papers will still be here tomorrow, but the perfect handbag? The statement shoes? They’ll be gone. Come on, let’s take the afternoon off.”I pull my hand away from her outstretched one with a regretful smile. “As tempting as that sounds, I can’t. I think my bosses might fro
Her eyes widen. “You do? Why haven’t I met him?”“He doesn’t live in the country,” I say, pausing to admire the bag’s craftsmanship. “We don’t have the same mom. My father had… well, I guess you’d call it a ‘past life’ with Viktor’s mother. She never wanted anything to do with the Bratva, refused to raise her son anywhere near it. So she stayed in Europe, kept Viktor with her in London, away from all this.”Yelena strokes her chin thoughtfully. “And your father let her? That doesn’t seem… typical.”I let out a soft laugh, glancing at her. “No, it’s definitely not. But he let them go when he met my mother. He was so wrapped up in her, he didn’t fight it. He just… left them both alone.”“Wow. That’s…” She trails off, clearly trying to process it.“We talk regularly,” I add, offering a small smile. “But Viktor’s world is different from mine. He’s always been the one who got away, the one who wasn’t marked by all this. Sometimes I think he got lucky.”She gives me a curious look, as if tr
AndreiThe bass thrummed through the floor, pulsing like a second heartbeat beneath my feet. Neon lights flickered in rhythmic flashes, painting the private lounge in hues of red and gold.We were at Moroz Lounge, one of our newest investments in New York, and Egor had put me in charge of it. I always came here at night when I needed to wind down, and Dobryn was in charge of supplying the women who would entertain us.Tonight wasn’t any different. Dobryn had a group of girls over, two women for each man. They draped over the plush leather seats, their laughter a soft hum against the pounding music as they did their best to catch our interest. It was always like that, every woman around here trying to please us; some of them would lay on their backs and allow us to walk on them if it meant they could win our favor. It was boring as fuck having to deal with that.One ran her fingers along the sleeve of my jacket. She had a sly smile on her face as she whispered something I couldn’t even
GiselleAndrei’s mansion was nothing short of breathtaking. Its sheer size was overwhelming: a sprawling estate tucked behind iron gates and guarded walls. Every inch of the place screamed wealth.Inside, the ceilings stretched high, adorned with intricate chandeliers that cast a dim golden glow over the grand hallways. The floors were polished marble, and the entire place was expensively furnished.Everything was sleek, modern, and expensive–from the deep mahogany paneling to the leather furnishings, to the heavy drapes that kept the sunlight at bay. It looked and felt like it was designed to intimidate, just like its owner.Anyone who walked in here could guess his personality. It felt like he was woven into every detail—the sharp lines, the absence of unnecessary decoration, the dominance of black and charcoal tones. Cold. Untouchable. Dangerous. Even the artwork on the walls was carefully curated, a mix of classic oil paintings and abstract pieces, all in moody shades of gray and
She laughed, but it was mirthless—a blend of fear and disbelief. “How am I supposed to believe you’ll keep me safe?You’re just like them. Just as cruel and soulless as the rest of those vultures. How do I know this isn’t some sort of trap?”“You just have to trust me.”“No, I can’t just trust you, Andrei. Not after everything has happened. I need to know why you care enough to try and keep me safe.”“You’re right. I’m just like them, soulless and cruel, but your father worked for me, and I respected him very much. He was kind and loyal. That isn’t something you find easily in the mafia,” I explained, holding her gaze so she could see that I meant every word. “He died working for me, which makes you my responsibility now.”She let out another humorless laugh. “Great speech. You expect me to believe that? Like you said, you’re just like the other guys. All of this could be a show just to get information from me.”I didn’t expect her to believe me, but I meant every word I said. It was t
AndreiGiselle sat stiffly beside me with her arms crossed and her eyes fixed ahead of the road as if she was still trying to make sense of what had happened. She hadn’t said a word to me since we left the police station, and I had no idea if it was best to enjoy the silence or be weary of it.It was almost five a.m., still pitch-black outside, and the glow of passing streetlamps cast a glow on her face.I stole a glance at her, my lips curling with a smile at how beautiful she looked even while she was seething.“Why did you lie that I was your fiancée?” she asked, finally turning to face me.I navigated the car into the Yezhov estate. “Because you are, at least for now.”She winced as if I’d said something hurtful to her. “Do you even understand what you’re doing? What happens if the police finds out you lied? That would make you an accomplice and me a criminal.”“Well, would you have preferred rotting away in their cell and being interrogated every day for who knows how long, five
I wasn’t sure how long I had been sitting here, but it felt like hours. My pulse had yet to settle, and it beat a relentless rhythm against my ribs.The door creaked open, and a man stepped inside, carrying a folder under his arm. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with sharp features and calculating eyes. His badge gleamed under the harsh fluorescent light: FBI.He pulled out the chair across from me and sat down, flipping open the folder. “Giselle Rae.” His voice was calm butfirm, as if he already knew every answer I could give him. “I’m Special Agent Mark Fetcher.”I swallowed. “I’d like to say it’s nice to meet you, Agent Fetcher, but I’d like to know why I’m here.”“Well, Miss Rae, how quickly you leave here will depend on how you cooperate with us.” He tapped against a sheet of paper. “Your father was involved with Tyfun-1, a synthetic substance that, if used, can cause irreversible damage to the human body.”“I know nothing about the substance or my father’s involvement with it,
GiselleI jolted awake, my heart throbbing against my ribcage and a trail of sweat running down my temple.Sleeping had become elusive. The nightmares were haunting, and it was impossible to forget Dad in the state I last saw him—lifeless, drained of color and life. Most nights since he died had been like this: me waking up from one nightmare or forcing myself to remain awake so I wouldn’t have another.But tonight was different. It wasn’t the nightmare that woke me up; it was the thudding on the door—or maybe not. Maybe I hadn’t heard anything, and I was dreaming.I listened for a moment, but there was nothing.Right, I really was dreaming.It was thirty minutes past one in the morning. No one would be knocking on my door that late. My mind tried to reel me back to thoughts of the Russian mafia. What if they were here for me? They wanted something, and knowing them, they would stop at nothing to get it.I sighed, refusing to let the thought bubble any further. That wasn’t entirely im
AndreiGiselle looked just like her father. They had the same eyes, the same raven-black hair, and, most of all, she’d inherited his defiance—all that stubbornness that made him loyal to a fault.But she was also different in every other way.I could tell how innocent she was just by looking into her eyes. She was pure and soft, a quality that would get her killed in a world like ours.She was everything I hated, but when she stood her ground in front of me today, knowing I could kill her if I wanted and fighting to hide her fear, something in me had shifted in a way I didn’t understand yet. I hadn’t stopped thinking about her since I got back from the funeral that evening.There was something about Giselle that I found hard to ignore, and whatever it was, I wasn’t quite sure I liked it. My job was to gather information about the whereabouts of the Tyfun-1 from her, nothing more.I leaned back in my chair, the dim light from my desk lamp casting sharp shadows across the room. My finge
The cemetery was empty now. Only the sound of the evening breeze rustling the trees and the chirping of birds returning to their nests kept me company.As the sun dipped lower in the sky, I stared at the freshly turned soil. The air smelled of damp earth and dying flowers, and a hollow ache settled in my chest. Everyone had left except me and him.I could leave, but he was stuck here forever.As much as I wished I could remain here with him, I couldn’t. He wouldn’t want me to put my life on hold; he’d want me to be strong and achieve my dreams, and I was going to do just that.The only problem was that I knew his killers were out there, roaming freely. The police had not yet found a single clue about who killed him and why, and I realized I would never fully find peace if no one was punished for this.Sighing, I rose to my feet and smoothed out the black dress that was supposed to be for our date, and then I smiled at my dad’s grave. On his gravestone, I had them carve,Here lies Peter
Reading something pre-written wasn’t going to suffice.I crumpled the paper, squeezing it harder than necessary, and conveyed what I truly wanted to say.“I always knew death was inevitable, but I never thought I’d have to stand here and say goodbye to my father so soon.” I paused and drew a shaky breath. “My father, Peter Rae, was many things. A provider. A protector. A man who carried his own demons but still tried to shield me from them. He was far from perfect, but he was still my father who loved me very much, and now he’s gone.”A sob from one of the well-wishers distracted me. It was my father’s youngest sister, Aunt Bianca. She was the only one of his siblings who didn’t fear him or judge him so cruelly, and she was the only one of them who showed any real pain at his death. Dad would be happy to know that she was here to send him off. I doubt he’d be happy to know that Mom couldn’t make it.“People say that time heals all wounds and that grief fades. But how do you heal from