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
AnyaThe clock on the wall ticks mockingly, its steady rhythm contrasting sharply with the erratic beating of my heart. It’s past midnight, and the penthouse is cloaked in a silence that’s louder than any noise. I’ve paced the length of the plush carpet in the living room so many times I’ve lost count, each step a testament to the anxiety gnawing at me.Bastien told me to stay away from the windows—just in case. The gravity of those words is not lost on me, hinting at the danger that lurks in the darkness of the city below. But my fear is not for myself or even for the secret that I’ve guarded so fiercely. It’s for Bastien—the man who has, against all odds, become the eye of my storm.Swallowing deeply as curiosity takes over, I peek outside hoping to see something, but not even the full moon shows me what I need to know.My father sent people here, I know it. It’s been weeks since I’ve gone missing in a city that belongs to his enemy. It bothers me that he’s taken so long to look for
BastienThe moment I have her in my grasp, the world narrows to the pounding of her heart against my arm, the sweet scent of her fear mingled with something else—desire, maybe. It’s a potent cocktail that makes my beast claw at the cage of my control.“Running from me?” The words tumble from my lips more as a purr, a deep vibration that I feel resonate within her as she shivers against me. I can’t help the smirk that curves my lips. “You should know better.”Every muscle in my body is taut, primed for the hunt, for the claiming. It’s a physical ache, a need that drowns out reason, that turns the world red in the light of the full moon. My wolf wants her, craves her in a way that’s as ancient as the bloodline coursing through my veins.I can feel the fight in her, the push and pull of her body against mine, trying to find purchase, to escape. It’s fucking maddening. My grip tightens reflexively, and a part of me—the darkest part—thrills at the whimper that escapes her lips.I feel her
BastienI stand alone in the aftermath of the full moon, its madness now just a lingering echo in my blood. The morning light seeps into the penthouse, casting a pale glow that does little to lift the weight from my shoulders. It’s the day after the nonsensical attack on Red Diamond, my casino—a battleground that saw no real battle, a storm that was all fury and no rain. The silence of the aftermath is a stark contrast to the chaos that rattled within me just hours ago.My focus is razor sharp, a necessary edge to slice through the confusion left by Popov’s half-hearted assault. It reeks of a feint, a misdirection, and it’s got me clawing for answers I’m not sure I want to find. The Russians have been silent for too long; I knew they’d come, but like this? It’s unlike Popov, and that unsettles me.I don’t fucking get it.Andrej approaches with a grim set to his jaw. He’s got the rundown, a detailed report of the ‘attack’—if you could even call it that. Barely a handful of men stormed
AnyaThe penthouse elevator door slides open with a silent, practiced ease, the quiet opulence of the foyer swallowing my rapid footsteps. It’s been seven days since I last saw Bastien, seven days since he demanded space, a trial for both of us that felt more like a silent agony than a respite.As I cross the threshold, the scent of him—the crisp edge of his cologne mixed with the underlying current of his strength—fills my senses, a heady reminder of what I’ve been craving. My heart thunders in my chest, a frantic Drumline to the chaos of my thoughts.I hesitate only for a heartbeat before I launch myself into the expanse of the penthouse, propelled by a force I can’t, and don’t want to, resist. The door to his office is ajar, a sliver of light beckoning me toward the man who’s been both my captor and my unwitting savior.There he stands, a figure carved from the very essence of power and restrained danger, his silhouette framed against the window that overlooks the city he commands.
BastienThe city unfolds before us, a concrete jungle where every street is a vein, every towering building a sentry of my domain. I feel the pulse of it beneath my feet, the rhythmic lifeblood that syncs with my own heart—a heart that’s become far too susceptible to the woman at my side.Anya. Even her name has become a talisman in my mind, a charm that’s supposed to bring luck but instead brings a sweet, searing chaos.Her presence throws me, makes me feel shit I’ve got no business feeling. But today, I’ve got to put on a show, make it crystal clear to anyone with eyes on us that she’s under my protection. I keep my hand firm on her waist, a silent, snarling challenge to any man who dares to even think of laying a finger on her.“Stick close,” I murmur, my voice low enough that only she can hear. “This isn’t just for show. It’s for your safety.”She nods, a slight tilt of her chin that tells me she understands more than she lets on.“Are you always this... territorial?” Anya’s voice
BastienThe penthouse looms above the city, a realm of steel and glass casting reflections of a life I both control and am enslaved by. The ride up is silent, the kind of quiet that’s heavy with words unsaid, a tension that hums in the air like electricity. Anya’s beside me, her presence a siren call that’s become my own personal brand of addiction.I can feel the pulse in her neck, the flutter of her heartbeat a counter-rhythm to the thudding in my own chest. The air is thick with the scent of the city rain that clings to her, an earthy perfume mixed with the faintest trace of her floral shampoo. It’s intoxicating, a sensory anchor in the midst of the storm I’ve conjured.The elevator dings its arrival, and we step into the penthouse. It’s a space that echoes with power, every inch designed to intimidate and impress, but right now it’s just the backdrop to the labyrinth of my thoughts.I pour us both a drink, the clink of the ice against the crystal a sharp note in the stillness. Ha
BastienI look over the estate that’s become more than just a piece of land to me. It’s a symbol of everything I’ve fought for, everything I’ve won and lost. The air’s cool and crisp, the kind that reminds you you’re alive. Standing on the balcony, I watch the night settle over the estate. The transformation of this place, of my life, still catches me off guard sometimes. It’s like the Goddess herself scripted this crazy turn of events.I can’t help but think about the twisted road that led us here. Losing my first mate, then finding Anya, it’s a hell of a story. Anya, brought onto that auction stage by her bastard of a father, in a place where she should’ve never been. I didn’t even blink before stepping in to save her. It was like some primal part of me roared to life, demanding I protect her. And now, looking back, it’s clear as day – she was meant to be in my life.Anya’s decision to become a shifter hits me again as I stand here. She’s tough, doesn’t back down from anything. Th
AnyaSeveral months have passed since the night Bastien proposed to me under the cherry tree, and our lives have been a whirlwind of change and growth. The estate has transformed into a haven of love and family. Today, as I stand on the balcony with Mia, my gaze is fixed on Bastien and Niko playing in the garden with their sons. Their laughter and joyous shouts fill the air, a testament to the new life we’ve built here.Mia, standing beside me, watches her family with a smile. “They’re like two overprotective wolves with their cubs, aren’t they?” she remarks, her tone light.I chuckle, nodding in agreement. “Absolutely. Bastien can be so brooding, but with Nero, he’s just a big, soft-hearted Alpha.”We fall into a comfortable silence, watching the idyllic scene, until a thought that’s been nagging at me finds its way into the conversation.“Mia, can I ask you something?” I begin, hesitantly. “It’s about... becoming a shifter. I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”She turns to face me,
BastienA week after the earth-shattering revelations about our family’s past, my phone rings, and I see Niko’s name on the screen. My heart tightens, anticipating more unsettling truths.As soon as I answer, Niko dives in. “I’ve been digging, questioning Dmitry’s father.” His use of ‘questioning’ is laced with a dark undertone, implying an obvious ruthless interrogation.“What did you find?” I ask, not sure I want to know the answer.Niko’s breathing is heavy, his words coming out like a torrent. “The bastard said that our mother... she was acting on her own fucking accord. All that sick shit she did, it was her, not someone else pulling her strings. She was a goddamn monster on her own, and some fucker just caught her in the act.”The revelation hits me like a punch to the gut. “So she was acting on her own? All those things she did, especially to you...”“Yeah,” Niko spits out, his voice boiling with anger. “She was a predator in her own right. And some bastard used her actions aga
BastienAs I stride away from Anya, the weight of her revelations pressing down on me, I can’t help but feel a storm brewing inside. The information she’s shared about my mother, about her connection to Anya’s father, and the blackmail, it’s a jigsaw puzzle with pieces that are too dark and complex. I need to talk to Niko, to see if he can make sense of this twisted narrative.I reach for my phone, my mind racing with questions and possibilities. As I dial Niko’s number, I can feel the familiar surge of adrenaline, the kind that’s always accompanied our family’s darkest moments. Niko picks up almost immediately. “Bastien? What’s up?”I hesitate for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Niko, I just found out something about Mother. It’s... it’s big.”There’s a pause on the other end, and I can almost feel Niko bracing himself. He’s just recently come face to face with her after what happened to him and he couldn’t even fight her back. His trauma was stronger than his resolve.“
AnyaI wake up to the soft morning light filtering through the lavish curtains, painting the room in a golden hue. Stretching out, I can’t help but smile, still in awe of the reality that Bastien bought this magnificent estate for us. It’s like waking up in a dream every day.I slip out of bed, wrapping myself in a plush robe, and make my way to the window. The view of the gardens is breathtaking, a sprawling landscape of manicured lawns, vibrant flowers, and elegant sculptures. I'm used to growing up around luxury, but this feels more like home, not superficial at all.It’s hard to believe that all of this is ours, a sanctuary created by a man who’s known more for his strength and power than for such grand, romantic gestures.Walking out of the room, I decide to explore the property. Every step I take through the grand halls of the mansion reveals another aspect of Bastien’s love and attention to detail. The artwork, the furniture, everything is chosen with such care, reflecting not
BastienNiko and I step out into the cool evening, the manicured gardens of the mansion stretching out before us. The night air is crisp, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the house we’ve just left behind.I break the silence first. “Niko, there’s something I need to tell you about Dmitry,” I say, my voice low. “He was Isla’s stepbrother.”Niko stops in his tracks, turning to face me. “Isla’s stepbrother? That’s... complicated. How do you know it’s true?”“I don't, but I'll be digging into it,” I admit. “He’s been a useful ally, but his ties to Isla... I do feel like it was a way to get me to go along with the plan. So, I can’t fully trust him.”Niko nods, his face set in a stern line. “You think he could be a problem?”“Possibly,” I reply. “We need to keep an eye on him.”“We will,” Niko assures me. “Family complications or not, we can’t afford any loose ends.”As we walk through the gardens, our conversation turns to the recent events. “With Popov out of the picture, it’s gonna stir
AnyaThe wheels of the jet touch down, the vast lights of Las Vegas sprawling before us, a sparkling beacon in the night. I gaze out the window, the city’s shimmering allure a stark contrast against our recent turmoil. Once, Vegas symbolized a world of dazzling possibilities; now, it’s a much-needed haven.I glance at Bastien, his gaze fixed out the window, a look of determination etched on his features. He’s been silent for most of the flight, lost in his thoughts, planning our future. I can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind.“We won’t be staying in the penthouse,” he suddenly says as he turns to look at me. “I secured an estate where we can grow our family and pack; I think it’s about time we head out of the city.”The revelation startles me. We had stayed in a penthouse before, a symbol of Bastien’s power within the city’s heart. But a mansion—this was a sign of permanence, a commitment to a future together.“I … I’d like that,” I murmur, a smile tugging at my lips. “
BastienThe room falls silent, the aftermath of the chaos settling like a heavy cloak around us. I stare at my hands, Ivan Popov’s blood a stark contrast against my skin, a vivid reminder of the violence that just unfolded. My breath comes out in ragged gasps, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins.Anya comes to my side, her eyes wide. She reaches out, gently touching my arm, grounding me in the moment. “Bastien, are you okay?” Her voice is a soft whisper, almost lost in the magnitude of what’s just occurred.I nod, unable to find my voice. The reality of what I’ve done, what we’ve done, is overwhelming. Ivan Popov, the man who cast a dark shadow over my life, is gone, eliminated by my own hands.I’ve dreamt of this day since Isla was brought to me in pieces. I swore vengeance in her name, and yet even with him lying dead at my feet, I feel nothing. Just an emptiness, because he reduced me to what he is.Dmitry steps forward, his expression unreadable. “It’s done,” he says, s
AnyaAs I watch Bastien, his figure restrained yet defiant, a knot of anxiety tightens in my stomach. He’s playing his part perfectly, but the sight of him bound, a pawn in this dangerous charade we’re orchestrating, sends waves of worry coursing through me.We lead him into the room where my father waits, his presence a suffocating force. My father’s eyes light up with malicious glee as he takes in the sight of Bastien, seemingly defeated and at our mercy.I force myself to remain composed, to play the part of the dutiful daughter, even as every fiber of my being screams in revolt. “Father,” I begin, my voice steady. “We’ve brought him, as you wanted.”My father looks at me, almost proud, then he pulls me into an embrace, leaving me startled. Then he pulls back, lets me go, and walks over to Bastien on his knees.“Well, well, look at the mighty lion, now just a harmless kitten,” my father taunts, his voice a venomous hiss. “I must say, Dmitry, you have outdone yourself. Bringing me m