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
AnyaThe gentle brush of dawn does little to disturb the tranquility of Bastien’s penthouse bedroom, but my consciousness stirs, riding the soft tide of awareness. I’m cocooned in warmth, an embrace that’s both protective and possessive, and I dare not move for fear of breaking the spell.I lie still, afraid to disrupt the peace that’s settled over me—a peace I’m utterly undeserving of.His breath is a steady rhythm against the nape of my neck, a reminder of the storm we weathered together, of the intensity that swept us up and refused to let go. Bastien, the man whose demons dance too closely to mine, holds me as if I’m the anchor in his world.Yet, as the first rays of morning light begin to filter through the curtains, casting a pale glow across the room, the reality of my deceit weighs heavily on my chest, crushing the remnants of last night’s abandon.I am living a lie.I should get up, put distance between us, build the walls that will protect him from the truth — protect him fr
BastienThe quiet hum of activity outside my office door contrasts sharply with the storm brewing within its confines. I sit behind my desk, the sprawling city skyline beyond acting as a silent witness to the thousands of thoughts racing through my mind.Anya is at the switchboard, her beguiling innocence and the shadow of guilt in her eyes are a jarring mixture. Her focus seems to be on the wires and lights, but I can tell her mind is miles away.I watch her, noting the furrow of her brow in concentration, the way she nibbles on her lip when she’s focused. There’s an innate grace to her, present even in the mundane tasks, that has ensnared me completely. But that grace is laced with a secret, one she clings to with hands trembling under the weight of her guilt.It’s been a week since we’ve started this thing between us, but something feels … off.I pick up my phone, the sleek device a lifeline to another who understands the burden of birthright—Niko. When he answers, the gravel in hi
AnyaThe silence of the penthouse feels heavier than usual, the echo of Bastien’s absence palpable in every corner. I wander aimlessly from room to room, my steps quieter without his presence. The vibrancy of our sanctuary has dimmed, and I’m left to navigate the shadowy hush on my own.I try to fill my time with books, with music, anything to drown out the stillness, but it’s no use. The melodies fall flat, the words blend into a meaningless blur. Restlessness takes hold, urging me back to the switchboard, back to some semblance of normalcy.As I settle into the familiar chair, the switchboard before me feels like a lifeline, a connection to the outside world, to life. I don the headset, the soft hum of the line a comforting sound. Calls trickle in, mundane inquiries and requests that I handle with practiced ease. It’s during one of these calls that it happens.And then it happens.The line crackles, and then a voice—deep and unmistakable—speaks in Russian. My blood runs cold, my bod
BastienI pull up to Niko’s sprawling estate, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the grounds. As I step out of the car, my boots crunch on the gravel, and I take a deep breath, bracing myself for the night ahead. There’s work to be done, plans to be made, and a sense of urgency that has settled deep in my bones.I enter the house, the familiar scent of aged wood and history greeting me. There’s an undercurrent of tension in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the stakes at play. I make my way through the hallways, my steps measured, my senses alert.As soon as I get outside to the back garden, I see Niko’s wife sitting with a few other women I’m guessing are the Gamma brides. I’m actually quite taken aback at how content they all look, given that they’re all here because of arranged marriages. I walk out to greet them and see the surprise on their faces as they see me. Their eyes flit from me to behind me and when I turn around, I see my brother.“I was w
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