BastienI walk back into the penthouse, each step heavy with the weight of unspoken tension. Fuck, why is this so damn complicated? The open sky and shimmering pool outside had presented a backdrop against which, for a fleeting moment, I felt something slip through my iron grasp. Control.Why am I rattled? I’m not a man easily disturbed, least of all by a woman. I’ve seen beauty in countless forms and faced down men who would kill without a second thought. But Anya... there’s something about her that pierces through the armor I’ve built over the years. The way she looked at me today, like she was seeing me for the first time, got under my skin in a way I didn’t expect.This isn’t my first time navigating power dynamics; I know the rules of the game. I’m the Alpha who owns this city—control is my birthright, my language.The thing about dominance is, it’s only as potent as the submission it evokes. And something about Anya calls to that part of me, resonates on a frequency I’ve never
AnyaMy fingers tremble as I push away from the table, still reeling from the tension that clung to the air like an invisible fog. “Thank you for dinner,” I manage to say, my voice betraying a vulnerability I can’t afford to show.“You’re welcome, Anya,” Bastien replies, his voice a calm counterpoint to my internal turmoil.I’m almost at the door when he adds, “Remember, tomorrow at seven.”“Yes, Alpha,” the words slip out before I can think, and I swear I feel the atmosphere in the room shift, as if something significant yet indiscernible has just occurred.Shaking off the heavy aura that surrounds me, I hurry down the corridor to my room, my steps faltering the closer I get. As soon as I cross the threshold, I shut the door behind me and press my back against it. My heart pounds in my chest like a caged bird desperate for release. I close my eyes for a moment, letting out a shaky breath.A bath, I decide, turning towards the bathroom. It’s a desperate attempt to regain some semblanc
BastienThe tension in the room is like a beast in a cage, pacing restlessly, waiting for a moment of weakness to break free.Dinner has been a battle of wits and wills, a tension I can almost taste. It’s electric, a live wire connecting Anya and me, and I’m restless, itching for something I can’t quite place. I watch her squirm in her seat, her movements betraying an internal struggle that resonates with my own unsettled state of mind. The full moon is near, its gravitational pull tugging at the very core of my being, making me feel more unhinged than usual.The restless thoughts in my mind are winning, and it’s both exhilarating and maddening. I need to push. To probe. To understand what the hell is happening here between us.She squirms in her seat again, biting her lower lip as if debating whether to flee or to stay. What the hell is it about this woman that makes me feel like I’m teetering on the edge? It’s like I’m at war with myself, torn between the urge to protect her and th
AnyaI make my way to the kitchen, my steps lighter than they’ve been in days. Despite the odd tension at last night’s dinner, I find myself strangely at ease this morning. The penthouse is silent, and for the first time since I got here, I feel like I can breathe. I scoop coffee grounds into the machine, press the button, and the aroma fills the room. Last night’s dinner plays like a surreal montage in my head, punctuated by Bastien’s penetrating gaze and that unnerving yet electrifying moment on my knees beside him. I can’t make sense of it, of him, of how he’s affecting me. A flutter of something—nervousness, excitement, or perhaps even fear—courses through me, leaving me unsettled.The phrase plays over and over in my head as the coffee brews. There was something in his tone, an unspoken weight, that I can’t shake off. I’ve never been one to seek approval, but the warmth that spread through me at his words was as disconcerting as it was pleasurable.My musings are interrupted by
BastienMy office is usually a fortress of solitude, far removed from the chaos and obligations that come with being both Alpha and Kingpin of Las Vegas. But today, the leather chair seems more like a throne of thorns, each prickle a reminder of the enigma that is Anya.I can’t even bring myself to walk into my office, can’t bear to see the questions on her face about Valeria this morning.She’s on my territory, in my home, answering my damn phones, and yet she feels miles away, unreachable. I can hear the soft clicks of her typing, the hushed conversations as she answers the switchboard. Each sound is a taunt, a dare for me to come out and face whatever the hell is happening between us.But I don’t. I fucking can’t.I replay the events of last night’s dinner, then this morning. Her squirming at the dinner table, the way her body relaxed when I stroked her hair. Christ, even the way her tongue curled around my finger, how she sucked the digit without being prompted… Fuck, I need to f
AnyaA shiver of electricity passes between our lips as he kisses me, the world blurring away until there’s only Bastien. But then a jolt of realization hits me like a freight train, and I break off the kiss abruptly. My mind races back to family dinners, childhood memories, and my father’s stern face as he cautioned me never to reveal our true identity. He spoke of debts and enemies as if they were ghosts that haunted us, shadows that never quite went away. I never understood the gravity of those words until now.Bastien doesn’t know who I am. He doesn’t know I’m the daughter of the man who murdered his wife and fled to Russia. A man he has sworn to bring down at any cost.The guilt is a tidal wave, crashing over me, drowning me.What am I doing? A storm of emotions is waging war inside me. Panic, guilt, and an overwhelming sense of impending doom flood my veins as I jump to my feet.“Bastien, I can’t—,” I try to say, but the words catch in my throat. I can’t finish the sentence. I
BastienI’ve been pacing the room for the last two hours replaying the scene from last night over and over in my head. Everything in me is screaming how much of a fucking mistake this is, that I should just step back and not get too tangled up in Anya.But now that I’ve kissed her, now that I know what her submission literally fucking tastes like, I can’t. There’s no point in me trying to deny the fact that I want her, in every fucking way possible.“Man the fuck up,” I grumble under my breath and breathe out a sigh. I have to face this head on, there’s literally no backing out now.So, after a shower where I willed myself to not think about her and failing, I head to my walk-in to get ready for the day. What will her answer be when I walk inside the office, I wonder? I understand if she’d rather not go down that road with me, but just the thought alone has me feeling empty. I crave her submission the more I think about her, and it’s driving me fucking insane.After another deep brea
AnyaThe air in the office is thick with tension. I can feel it clinging to my skin, like a layer of dust that won’t wash off. Bastien’s voice cuts through the charged atmosphere as he barks orders into his phone, speaking rapidly in Greek. Every so often, I glance up from my desk, catching him in various states of emotion—mostly frustration and tense focus. And the entire room is charged with an energy so palpable that I could reach out and touch it. It has me on edge, wound tight, and I don’t even know why.But one word punches me in the gut like a fist, making my heart leap into my throat: “Popov.” He says it while speaking in Greek, probably assuming I wouldn’t understand. But that’s where he’s wrong. Because Popov isn’t just any name; it’s my name. My father’s name.The way he’s calling people and ordering them makes it seem like something huge is happening. Does my father know I’m here? Is he attacking? Then there’s the fact that Bastien mentioned not to go outside at all. So