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
AnyaI slowly open my eyes and the first thing I feel is a hard body pressed against my back, warm breath tickling the nape of my neck. A contented smile plays on my lips, and I can’t help but feel a surge of warmth.Bastien’s home.He stirs, and I feel the shift in his arm around my waist as he pulls me even closer. “Morning, baby,” he mumbles, his voice a low, gravelly murmur that sends a delightful shiver down my spine.“Morning,” I reply, my voice a soft whisper. I turn to face him, and the moment our eyes meet, a shared understanding passes between us. The events of the past few days, the unspoken questions, and the looming uncertainties are momentarily set aside. In this quiet morning, it’s just us.Bastien leans in, his lips brushing against mine in a sweet, lingering kiss. “Sleep well?” he asks, his fingers tracing absent patterns on my shoulder.“Mm-hmm, like a baby,” I reply, a playful twinkle in my eyes. He grins, and I can’t help but marvel at the way his green eyes light
Bastien The air in the room thickens as Anya’s admission hangs between us. She takes a deep breath, and her words cut through the silence with a weight I hadn’t anticipated. “I’ve been hiding something from you,” she confesses, her voice laced with a mixture of fear and regret. She meets my gaze, her eyes searching for a reaction. I raise an eyebrow, urging her to continue, though a part of me already senses the storm brewing beneath the surface. “My full name is Anya Popov,” she reveals, each syllable landing like a lead weight in the room. The name echoes in my mind, sending ripples of anger and betrayal through me. Popov—a name synonymous with pain, vengeance, and the twisted fate that led me to this point. Niko suspected this, I have to get her DNA to prove it, for fuck’s sake and here she is… spilling her guts. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” I demand, my voice a low, controlled growl. Anya takes a step back, her eyes wide with trepidation. “I... I kept it hidden beca
BastienThe next day arrives with the heavy burden of betrayal clinging to the air. I awake to the cold realization that everything has changed. Anya, once someone who I came to love, now stands exposed as a pawn in a game I never wanted to play.As I step into my office, the residue of last night’s anger still lingering, Anya approaches me tentatively. Her eyes, once brimming with affection, now hold a desperate plea for understanding.“Bastien, please,” she implores, her voice cracking with emotion. “I never wanted to hurt you, I… didn’t think this through, I never expected to fall in love with you.”Her words, once a soothing melody, now grate against the walls of my resolve. I meet her gaze with a stony expression, a wall built to shield my wounded heart.“Save your declarations for your father,” I reply, my tone icy and devoid of the warmth she once reveled in. “I’m sure he’ll be calling soon.”Anya’s eyes widen with a mix of fear and desperation. “Bastien, you can’t do this. I c