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chapter 34
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2024-12-08 18:30:58
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Married Off To The Merciless Mafia King chapter 35
ANADaria’s face says it all as I approach her desk.Great. Just great.“Let me guess, he’s pulled another disappearing act?” I ask, my heart sinking. I thought giving Papa some space would make him miss me, but apparently his ego’s gotten so big it’s pushed out any paternal feelings. At this rate, I’ll be collecting social security before he decides to grace me with his presence.Daria shakes her head, oozing sympathy. “Sorry, hon. I wouldn’t hold your breath waiting. You know how he gets.”My shoulders slump like they’re trying to touch the floor. “Right. Because heaven forbid Nikolai Petrov face his only daughter.” A spark of defiance flares up. “Maybe I should just camp out here. He can’t ignore me forever, can he?”I see the pity in Daria’s eyes as she offers me a chair. “If you think it’ll work. Or I could tell you where he is. If you’re feeling brave enough to make a scene?—”“No, no,” I cut her off, shaking my head so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t fall off. “Can’t embarrass th
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I shrug. “I went to see my father, then I went to see my mom, and I didn’t want to come back here because I hate this place. So, I went to a bar. And I drank.” My lips stretch into a lopsided grin. “It was so much fun.”Dmitri runs his fingers through his hair. “How did you get home, then?”How did I get home?I scratch my head, trying to remember the details, but all I feel is this warm, fuzzy feeling in my head. Like I’m floating on clouds but not quite.“Where’s your car?” he prompts.“Ah!” I smack my temple as I remember. “I drove. Slowly,” I drag out the last word, “because I didn’t want to get into an accident. Yeah. I drove here.”Panic rushes into Dmitri’s eyes for a split second, then he races past me. Seconds later, I hear the door open and slam shut.I pout.What’s his problem?He’s sure acting strange tonight.You’re my wife. No other reason.Who says something like that? I scoff as he rushes back into the living room, taking me by surprise when he grabs my shoulders.“Why
Last Updated : 2024-12-08Married Off To The Merciless Mafia King chapter 37
DMITRII guide Ana onto the yacht’s deck, my grip firm on her hand. “Watch your step,” I warn, my voice low and commanding. I’m not used to being gentle, but with her, I find myself adjusting.Her midnight blue dress ripples in the breeze, a stark contrast to the white of the yacht. She moves with a grace that reminds me she’s no stranger to luxury. Of course, she isn’t, she’s Nikolai Petrov’s daughter.“I’m not going to fall,” she laughs softly. “This isn’t my first time on a yacht.”“I know,” I respond curtly, reminding myself of who she is, who I am. This isn’t a fairytale romance, it’s a strategic move. At least, that was the idea.I survey the deck, noting the scattered carnation petals with satisfaction. Everything is precisely as I ordered. I’m a man who demands perfection, even in this.“Carnations?” Ana asks, her voice tinged with surprise.I nod, keeping my face impassive. “Red and white. I assumed you’d had your fill of roses.”A small smile plays on her lips. “You assumed
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Fear? Excitement?Both work in my favor.Without warning, I seize her, pulling her against me. She gasps, her nails digging into my chest.I crush my lips to hers, devouring, possessing. A primal sound tears from my throat as I break away, my control slipping for a dangerous second.Ana isn’t just warmth; she’s third-degree burns. Our mouths clash again, a battle for dominance that I have no intention of losing. She yields, opening to me, and I push forward, claiming what’s mine.In this moment, I’m not just taking Ana. I’m conquering my own weakness, turning it into strength. She may have softened my heart, but I’ll use that to make myself more formidable than ever.Dmitri Orlov doesn’t fall in love.He takes what he wants and makes it his own.I can feel her nails as she grabs my shoulders to steady herself against me. Her body is soft, slipping across the fabric of my clothes as I pull her in.“There’s something about kissing you. I don’t know what it is, but I want to keep doing i
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ANAI take Dmitri’s hand as I climb out of the limo, trying not to faceplant in these ridiculous heels. Nothing says “Bratva wife” like eating pavement at a fancy party, right?The night air hits me, and I resist the urge to shiver. Next time I’m bringing a jacket. Or better yet, staying home with Netflix and sweatpants.Dmitri insisted on being “fashionably late,” which I’m pretty sure is code for “I wanted to make an entrance.” I half expect a spotlight to shine on us as we cross the street.He offers me his arm like we’re in some period drama.Who is this guy, and what has he done with my usually detached husband?I take it anyway, because hey, if he’s playing nice, I might as well enjoy it while it lasts.The security outside looks like they eat steroids for breakfast. Their suits are probably bulletproof too, unlike my flimsy dress.Dmitri doesn’t need to show an invite. Of course, he doesn’t. He probably owns half the city by now. He gestures for me to enter first, all gentleman
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DMITRII find Igor Pavlov waiting in my office like an uninvited pest. His attempt at a disarming smile only serves to fuel my irritation. The audacity of this man never ceases to amaze me.“What are you doing here, Igor?” I ask, my voice a cold blade.He stammers out some excuse about the casino project. How quaint. I let him squirm for a full minute before acknowledging him, savoring his discomfort like a fine wine.Igor launches into his concerns about profits and timelines. Little does he know, those casinos were never his to begin with. The fool signed away his empire without even realizing it. It would almost be pitiful if it weren’t so satisfying.“Everything takes time,” I say, feeding him just enough truth to keep him complacent. “There were...complications with the previous owners.”I watch realization dawns on his face. He truly had no idea what he was getting into. It’s almost too easy.The conversation shifts to the sultan’s party. Igor’s curiosity is palpable, tinged wit
Last Updated : 2024-12-10Married Off To The Merciless Mafia King Chapter 41
ANAPicture this: me, standing in the airport like a human billboard, holding a sign over my head that says “Welcome back, favorite brother!” Because nothing says, “I missed you” more than potential shoulder strain, right?I spot Viktor emerging from behind what looks like the entire inventory of a luggage store. He sees my sign and starts laughing.I drop the sign and run toward him, nearly taking out a few innocent bystanders in the process. We collide in a hug that’s part bear, part octopus, and all awkward public display of affection.“Viktor!” I squeak, probably sounding more like an excited chipmunk than a dignified adult. “Welcome back to the land of the free and home of the Bratva!”He kisses the top of my head, which is sweet but also reminds me that I’ll always be the baby sister. “Your face makes it worth returning to this country,” he says, ever the charmer.As we pull apart, he looks me up and down. “You’ve grown! What are you now, eighteen?”I roll my eyes so hard, I’m s
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DMITRII sense Viktor Petrov’s arrival before Jakob announces him. His presence carries weight, a formidable energy I’ve rarely encountered. I’ve been anticipating this meeting, curious to see what kind of man Ana’s brother is.“Let him in,” I command, my voice cool and controlled.Viktor enters, his stride purposeful and confident. He carries himself with the assurance of a man who’s seen the world and faced its challenges. I find myself reassessing my initial assumptions. This is no mere boy playing at being a protector.“You’re Dmitri Orlov,” he states, his voice firm and unwavering.I nod, gesturing to a chair. “And you’re my wife’s brother. Please, sit.”He takes the seat, his posture relaxed yet alert. Our eyes lock, and I’m met with a gaze as steely and determined as my own. Interesting. Most men falter under my scrutiny, but Viktor holds firm.I break the silence. “I’m certain you didn’t come here for a social call. “It’s about Ana, yes?”Viktor nods, his words measured and di
Last Updated : 2024-12-10
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I got up from the chair, walking past Arlo to the door as I watched them both. Like the colors of a rainbow, my brother had different sides. He had his days: good ones, bad ones, crazy ones, and bloody ones. I didn’t trust him to keep his cool with this foolishly brave girl. But fuck interfering. I wasn’t going to stop him.Whatever he decided was going to be her fate. She was his problem to deal with now.“Let him do whatever he wants. My only concern is those two.”“But Enzo….”“I’ll blow his fucking head off if it comes down to the worst.” I was unbothered, and I made sure he understood that.“You know what? Forget your fucking brother….” The Italian and Rafa were still at it. “You’rethe piece of shit, you crazy fuck! Who stands in the middle of the road with a gun anyway? My papa’s going to have your head for this!”“Boy, am I going to enjoy killing you. You called me a dog. Pleased to inform you that I barely bark; I fucking bite.” Theshinkechoed in the room, and silver pressed a
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TimurI adjusted the gloves against my wrist and tossed the syringe to the floor while I watched the sight of them resting against each other,Pchelkaand her brother. They both had bloodied faces, but I was more concerned with the sunshine princess, whose golden hair had mingled with streaks of red. The other one, with dark eyes and a spitfire mouth, had her eyes shooting daggers at me, Rafayel, and Arlo.She’d woken up first.“I’ve heard a lot about you, Timur Yezhov, but none of those briefs warned me ahead of time that you’d be this dumb.”“I’m going to slice your fucking tongue off, bitch,” Arlo sneered beside me in Russian, but I raised a hand. There was no use spilling her blood yet. We had to hear more from her; then I’d decide if keeping her alive was worth it. Her feistiness was interesting to watch—entertaining, even. She was good sport.Jerking my chair closer to their huddled bodies, I propped my elbows on my knees, leaning forward. She didn’t even flinch. Cocking her head
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Jayden shot me anare-you-serious-right-nowlook over his shoulder, still marching forward toward the pavement.“They don’t have Honda Odysseys,” he emphasized, like that wasn’t already obvious. “And they don’t do simple.”Then, he halted in his tracks, allowing me to step beside his huge frame. Taking my hands in his, he let me in, permitting me to see the fear in his eyes for the first time that night.“Look, Seri, I know this is not the life you planned for either of us. You’ll miss your kids at school, you’ll miss the house, you’ll miss everything. But none of us could have known what Dad did, the debt he owed. I promise we’ll sort out this messafterwe leave. Those goons can’t know we’re gone.”Sniffling tears, I nodded and pulled him in for a brief hug before we got to the car. Subtly, he knocked on the window three times. It was eerie, like a secret Morse code only he and the driver understood, and when the door opened and the driver walked up to us, I blinked in disbelief.The la
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Serena“And you’re sure this is a good idea?” I asked for the hundredth time. And, again, earned a tired, frustrated growl-slash-sigh from Jayden.Upfront, he stopped walking and turned around with his flashlight pointed directly at me. I squinted, raising my arms to shield my eyes from the bright rays. We were in an abandoned dry canal—one I didn’t know how Jayden had managed to find. Dressed in a black hoodie with a backpack slung over his shoulder, standing at the center with that annoying flashlight, he looked like a villain—a teenage ninja villain.But it was just Jayden.“Take that thing out of my face, please.”I couldn’t see his face, but I knew my brother well enough to feel his vexed eye roll. He dropped the flashlight and turned his back to me, continuing his trek down the canal. Quietly, I shifted the knapsack on my backpack, following the sharp outline of his broad back as he trudged deeper into the swallowing darkness.“No, it’s not a good idea,” his voice echoed around
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“Fuck! I almost had him,” Rafayel cursed, dropping his cards beside mine.“My apologies, but this is important. Level one shit,” Arlo said, looking anything but remorseful for interrupting our moment.I didn’t mind because I knew he had something—he always did.He stopped in front of me, flashing his phone toward me as if I could see the screen. A sly grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Got updates on the Skye siblings.”The Skye siblings.Truly, level one shit.“Good or bad?”“Somewhere in between. They barely leave the house. They’re scared. Real scared.”Satisfied, I approved the update with a nod. Of course, they were scared. They knew exactly what was coming and couldn’t run far enough. But Arlo wasn’t done.“But that young one,” he continued, his eyes narrowing slightly, “Jayden.”“The boy?”“He’s got eyes of fire. They know we’ve been watching and are gonna try to run. I see it.”I sat up straighter, grabbing the cards. “Then let them.”He paused, and Rafayel raised a ques
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TimurRafayel dealt the cards with that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes, but his face remained calm.Clicking my tongue distastefully, I leaned backward on a chair, folding up my sleeves. We sat across from each other, the low rumble of thunder muffled in the background. It was supposed to be one of those rare moments when we had some peace, no business to deal with, no chaos to clean up—just a game of cards between brothers—until the clouds gathered.“It still bothers you, doesn’t it?”Rolling the cigar stick between my fingers, I trimmed the end with my cutter. “Sometimes.”“And the dreams?”I fixed the cigar between my lips, bouncing my feet up and down the rug. “Stopped about a year ago. Stop talking, and let’s play.”Fucking lying through my teeth. The dreams hadn’t stopped. Not since that night after I was literally tied to a chair and forced to watch one of my father’s techniques for truth extraction. The aggressive thunderclaps, the artistic splash of red on the walls,
Married Off To The Merciless Mafia King chapter 11
Serena“Who were those men?”That was the first thing Jay had asked five nights ago after the unannounced visit of the men in black.Quickly, I’d wiped the tears off my cheeks with the back of my hands. My feet stopped moving, pausing by the counter. I was about to put the cake away, ready to chuck it inside the fridge, when he stormed into the house, confused, concerned, and angry at the same time.I’d wished him a happy birthday, but Jay didn’t care, not about the wish or the cake I’d spent hours baking. Instead, we’d spent the wee hours of his birthday talking about the Russian mafia and the debt our late father owed.We sat in the living room tonight, the same cloud of gloom and uncertainty hanging over our heads as more rain pelted the glass windows. He parted the curtains with his fingers again—for the fifth time exactly—and the view was the same: rain, dark, cloudy skies, billows of what appeared to be dusty wind, and a black truck with bright white headlights.“They’re not goi
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“This…this is outrageous!” Waving the paper midair, eyes zeroed in on me, glaring with instant anger. “My dad died last year, so you can’t get anything from him.”“We are well aware of that because he stopped paying last year.” Eagerly, Arlo gestured toward the contract. “Read the last line.”She did.And she jumped to her feet, red-hot with anger. She was trembling with tears, the prickly pines emerging from within as she got ready to defend her home and her brother with everything. “No.”I sat back, assessing her while she faced my underboss.“Technically, yes. Oliver signed that contract.”“And I don’t care! You…you guys can’t do this. It’s evil. How can his debt pass on to his male blood relative? It washisdebt, and we knew absolutely nothing about it. Jay doesn’t know a thing. Please, I’m begging you. He’s only seventeen. He’s still a child.”“Child, my fucking foot. I cut a man’s finger off at fifteen. Your brother’s already fucked a woman, and you wouldn’t even know.”Realizing
Married Off To The Merciless Mafia King chapter 9
TimurI sat on the couch in the dainty living room, Arlo standing beside me and Kristian and Vasili by the door. Everything was more her than Oliver: the colors, textures, and smell. She owned the space, and her composure and confidence were the indicators.Placing the basketball cake on the center table, she took the seat opposite mine, crossing her legs with elegance and chewing her bottom lip with her nerves all over the place.Raising her head, she looked me in the eyes—a sparkling pair of blue eyes that reminded me of the reflection of clear skies on the vast ocean. She was not tall, but when she squared her shoulders in a feeble attempt to appear fierce, her height edged upwards.“You claim that you’re my father’s friends, and yet, I don’t even know your names.”I shouldn’t have been surprised that she wanted an introduction. She looked like the type, anyway.“Timur Yezhov. Not exactly pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Serena Skye, given the circumstances.”“Arlo.” Arlo ra
