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
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
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.
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
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
“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
Epilogue 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
Book 3 introduces different characters and storyline while still maintaining the forced marriage To the merciless Mafia series. **************** A debt to pay, a brother to save, a monster to marry. Timur Yezhov, the cold-hearted Bratva boss, is a storm of cruelty and control. When my father’s hidden debt comes due, I make a desperate choice to save my younger brother. I offer myself to the mafia monster in his place. Now, I’m trapped into a marriage with a man who is both my captor and my tormentor – and I am pregnant with his child. Every moment with Timur is a battle. I despise the way he demands and commands, but his brutal touches leave me craving more. His grumpy, unyielding nature is as frustrating as it is magnetic. I hate what he makes me feel, but I can’t deny the way my body responds to his dominance. How do you fight a man who makes you burn with every touch? Can I protect my heart and my child from the ruthless man who’s claimed us both? Or am I do
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
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
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
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
“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
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,
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
“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
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