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chapter 48
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2024-12-12 11:31:56
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Married Off To The Merciless Mafia King chapter 49
I slip in quietly, the sound of the shower masking my footsteps. I place my hand gently on her shoulder. She jumps, gasping, her wide eyes locking onto mine as she shakes her head.“You scared me to death, you brute.”“I would’ve brought you back to life,” I murmur, my voice low, possessive, as my fingers trail up to cup her chin. I tilt her head back, making her meet my gaze, my mouth hovering just inches from hers.Her lips part slightly, and my tongue flicks out to trace the seam of her mouth, teasing, a soft, needy sigh escaping her.There’s nothing gentle in the way I look at her—nothing soft. I’ve been cold, ruthless, dangerous all my life. But with Ana, there’s something else. Something more.My control frays at the edges every time she’s close, and tonight, I don’t intend to hold back.I deepen the kiss, cradling her face with a hand and pulling her close with the other. Her body is soft, as usual, and warm from the water cascading down.“You’ll get wet,” Ana whispers.“Mm,” I
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ANAWell, here I am, standing outside the house where I grew up, feeling like I’m about to walk into a minefield.The door swings open before I can chicken out, and suddenly, I’m surrounded by Papa’s minions—I mean,associates. God, I’d forgotten how creepy it is when they all stare at you.Maria, our housekeeper—and let’s be real, probably the only sane person in this place—gives me a sympathetic smile. “He’s in his study, Miss Ana.”Great. Papa’s lair. Where dreams go to die and organized crime goes to thrive.I take a deep breath, straighten my shoulders, and march toward certain doom. Okay, maybe I’m being dramatic, but after months of radio silence, what else am I supposed to think? If it weren’t for Viktor practically begging me to come, I’d be home binging Netflix and pretending I don’t have a family.I knock twice, push open the door, and there he is—Nikolai Petrov, criminal mastermind and emotionally unavailable father extraordinaire, typing away on his laptop like he’s just a
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DMITRIThe door to my office swings open, and I can’t help but chuckle mirthlessly at the sight of my unexpected visitor. Nikolai Petrov, in the flesh. How quaint.“I never would’ve expected Nikolai Petrov to grace my humble abode,” I drawl, sarcasm dripping from every word. “What brings you to my office?”He approaches my desk with the caution of a man who knows he’s walking into the lion’s den. “May I sit?”“Sure.” I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “You came all this way. It would be rude for me not to offer you a seat.”As he settles in, I fold my arms, giving him rope to hang himself with. I have a hunch this has something to do with Ana and their so-called reconciliation, but I trust Nikolai about as far as I can throw him. Once a traitor, always a traitor.“I came to apologize,” he finally says.A scoff escapes me before I can stop it. “For what? Stealing from my father? Threatening to usurp me from a position that was rightfully mine? How about for neglecting your daughter? Pick o
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ANASeeing my father twice in one week? It feels strange after months of radio silence. We’re suddenly doing the whole father-daughter bonding thing.Color me surprised.“Dochka,” Papa says, arms open wide. I hug him back, but it feels about as natural as a fish riding a bicycle. How exactly does one hug the father who’s been MIA for months?He plants a kiss on my cheek, all misty-eyed. “I didn’t know how much I missed you until you left that day.”I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Why didn’t you call then?” I ask, channeling my inner Yelena. “You could’ve asked me over for dinner, you know.”Papa sighs like he’s auditioning for a soap opera. “I wasn’t sure if you’d forgiven me. I wanted to give you time. Be less overbearing.”Right, because ghosting your daughter is the epitome of being overbearing. “I see,” I say, biting my tongue. “So why the summons now? And please stop using Viktor as your messenger pigeon. I have a phone, remember?”He offers an apologetic smile that doesn’t q
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But I can see that Papa’s rage has blinded him. It’s doubtful Dmitri will fall for his ruse, whether I play a part or not. If Papa tries to kill him, Dmitri won’t spare his life. And if there’s even a small chance Papa succeeds, I could lose the man I love. I’ll lose Papa too because Dmitri’s people will come after him.Either way, I’m caught in the middle of a war I never wanted to fight. A war that will never end.Some days, I really wish I’d just become a librarian or something. At least then, the only thing I’d have to worry about is late fees.I take a deep breath, trying to appeal to whatever shred of fatherly love might be left in him. “I’m happy,” I plead, feeling like I’m talking to a brick wall. “Can’t you see that I’m happy withhow things have turned out? Why can’t you just let sleeping dogs lie?”But the look in his eyes is pure venom. If hatred could be bottled, his would be top shelf. “I was insulted,” he spits. “My dignity and self-esteem were stripped from me. I’m not
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DMITRI“What’re you doing here?” I ask, unable to suppress the smile that spreads across my face as Ana appears in the doorway. It’s a reaction I’m still getting used to, this involuntary warmth that floods through me at the mere sight of her.She approaches my desk with a secretive smile, one hand hidden behind her back. “Is it weird for me to come see my husband?” she says, but I can see right through her attempt at nonchalance. Something’s definitely up.I’ve noticed she’s been off for the past four days, ever since she came home late that night. I didn’t push then, it was clear she didn’t want to talk about it. But now…“It’s not weird at all,” I say, rising to meet her. I take her in my arms, kissing her tenderly. We’ve been gentler with each other lately, mostly at Ana’s initiation. I find myself craving these soft moments more and more.She’s been coming home early, making dinner, insisting we all eat together. It feels almost like courtship. The thought both thrills and unnerv
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ANAI clear my throat, trying to get Viktor and Yelena’s attention over the clinking of cutlery in the museum’s restaurant. I’ve dragged them here under false pretenses because, let’s face it, if I’d told them the truth, at least one of them would’ve run for the hills faster than you can say “family drama.”This is it. My last hurrah with the two people who matter most to me, besides Dmitri. God, just thinking about him makes my heart do a little tap dance of misery.“I’ll cut to the chase,” I say, taking a sip of liquid courage. “Viktor, you like Yelena, don’t you?”My brother’s poker face is about as convincing as a kid with chocolate all over their fingers swearing they didn’t touch the cake.“You’re a meddler if there ever was one,” he grumbles.I shrug, aiming for nonchalance. “What can I say? I’m just trying to spread a little happiness before—” I catch myself. “I mean, you two deserve it.”I hold up my hands, trying to look innocent. “Look, I’m not trying to play Cupid here. I’
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DMITRIThe bouquet of carnations feels heavy in my hand as I stride down the hallway toward Ana’s office. This impromptu visit isn’t my usual style, but being near her workplace, I couldn’t resist. Her smile has become a temptation I find increasingly difficult to deny.I knock on her door, anticipation building in my chest. Silence. I knock again, harder this time. Still nothing. Strange. I try the handle—locked.Unease settles in my gut. I call her phone, then send a text when she doesn’t pick up. No response.“What’s going on?” I mutter, sending another text. Perhaps I should have called beforehand. I’m trying to match Ana’s romantic gestures of the past few days. After her melancholy mood last night, I thought she could use some cheering up.“Hi.” A voice interrupts my thoughts. Some suit is approaching me, all smiles and familiarity. “Are you looking for Anatasia?”“Yes,” I nod curtly. “I’m her husband, Dmitri Orlov.” The words come out more possessive than I intend.His eyes wid
Last Updated : 2024-12-15
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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,
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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
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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
