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CHAPTER 3

Penulis: Efita
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-04-01 15:17:32

Chloe’s POV

I woke up to the soft light filtering through the curtains, the faint sound of birds chirping outside breaking the silence. My alarm had already gone off, but I had snoozed it twice before finally dragging myself out of bed. The usual heaviness lingered in the air, an unsettling mix of dread and determination that had become part of my routine over the years.

I ran a hand through my disheveled hair as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. There it was again—the ghost of the past that had somehow managed to resurface. The same cold feeling that had settled into my bones the moment I had seen him. Nicholas.

Shaking my head, I forced myself to focus on the present. I had work to do. I couldn’t afford to lose myself in thoughts of him. Not again.

I grabbed my clothes from the chair, the familiar motions of getting ready taking over. The morning routine was the same every day: a quick shower, then dressing in a simple black skirt and white blouse, nothing that would draw attention, nothing that would make me stand out. I made sure the scar on my wrist, the one I had worked so hard to hide, was covered up with a sleeve.

Once I was dressed, I splashed some cold water on my face and grabbed my bag. My nerves were already starting to fray, but I couldn’t afford to think too much about it. I had made it this far without slipping up, without getting too close to the life I’d run from. Today would be no different. I just had to get through it.

I checked the time, panic rising in my chest. Late. I was going to miss the bus if I didn’t hurry.

My heart picked up speed as I rushed out of my apartment, slamming the door behind me and locking it with a quick twist of the key. The cold air of early morning Russian winter hit me instantly, sending a chill through my body, but I didn’t have time to shiver. I could already hear the bus rumbling down the street.

I ran.

My boots slapped against the pavement as I sprinted toward the stop, my breath coming in sharp gasps. The bus was slowing down, and I could see the doors opening just in time. I barely made it, stepping onto the bus with a sigh of relief.

The familiar faces of other regular commuters greeted me with silent nods. I found my seat near the back and took a moment to calm my racing heart. I closed my eyes, resting my head against the window as the city passed by. But no matter how hard I tried to push the thoughts of Nicholas from my mind, they kept creeping back, like shadows lurking in the corners of my mind.

What was he doing here? Why had he come to Russia? And more importantly, why had he looked at me like that?

I clenched my fists in my lap, willing myself to think about something else, anything else. I couldn’t let him unravel me. Not now. Not when I was so close to finally being free.

The bus stopped at my usual stop, and I stepped off, taking a deep breath of the crisp air. I had to put on my game face. I had a job to do.

Walking into the coffee shop, I immediately fell into the rhythm of the place—setting up the counter, checking inventory, preparing for the morning rush. The clink of coffee cups and the hiss of the espresso machine became the backdrop to my thoughts, each motion mechanical, almost soothing.

But then, the door opened.

I didn’t need to look up. I could feel it—his presence. Nicholas.

I could sense the change in the air the moment he walked through the door. It wasn’t just the sound of footsteps or the sudden shift in the room’s energy. It was him. His presence was unmistakable, even before my eyes found him. His aura was like a storm—powerful, magnetic, and inescapable.

For a split second, I thought about hiding. Ducking behind the counter or retreating to the back, disappearing before he could see me. But I knew better. I’d never survive if I ran now. Not again. Not like I did before.

So, I forced myself to breathe. My hands, however, betrayed me, trembling as they gripped the notepad I’d been holding. I didn’t dare make eye contact yet. Instead, I focused on the coffee machine, the sound of the espresso brewing filling the space between us. I had to get it together. He might not recognize me. He couldn’t. He was too far removed from the past.

But the weight of his gaze was undeniable.

I told myself to look up. To face him head-on. He hadn’t seen me in years. He didn’t know me anymore.

But the instant my eyes met his, everything stopped. The room disappeared. The clinking of cups, the quiet hum of the machines, the chatter of the few early customers—it all faded. It was just him and me, and for a moment, I was caught in the gravity of it. His eyes were different now, harder, sharper. But I could still see it. That flicker of recognition in his gaze. He knew me. Somewhere, deep down, he remembered.

And yet… he didn’t. Not completely. He didn’t recognize the girl standing before him now. The girl who’d spent years running, hiding, burying everything she once was. That version of Chloe—of me—was long gone.

I could breathe again.

I pushed down the urge to run, to flee from the truth of the moment. Instead, I straightened my shoulders, forcing my face into the professional mask I’d perfected. I am just a barista. I am just a coffee girl.

I forced a smile and walked toward him, ignoring the way my legs felt like they were made of rubber. I was determined not to let him see the storm brewing inside me.

“What can I get you?” My voice was steady—almost too steady—despite the chaos of emotions running through me.

His eyes stayed locked on mine, as if searching for something. His gaze was intense, unfathomable. “Black coffee, no sugar,” he replied, his voice smooth and confident.

No sugar.

The words hung between us. Simple. Ordinary. Nothing about it was extraordinary. Nothing about it should have been anything more than a regular interaction between customer and barista. But the weight of his gaze—the way his eyes pierced through me—told me otherwise.

I nodded quickly, tearing my gaze away from him before I could make a fool of myself. I couldn’t afford to get lost in those eyes again. Not now. Not when everything was so fragile.

I turned, my movements swift and purposeful. I had to focus. Prepare the coffee. Keep my hands steady.

But the tremor was still there.

The espresso machine hummed in the background, the rhythmic hiss of steam doing little to settle my nerves. I moved quickly, my hands working on autopilot. I could feel his eyes on me, watching every move I made, and it made my skin crawl with a strange mix of dread and excitement. Why was he here? What did he want? Had he followed me? Was he trying to piece together something he shouldn’t know?

I forced myself to breathe deeply. Just breathe.

When I finished preparing his coffee, I grabbed the cup, the steam rising in tendrils that blurred my vision. I set it down in front of him, my fingers brushing his for the briefest of moments.

Electricity. A shock. Like I’d been struck by lightning. It only lasted an instant, but it left a mark. My skin tingled where our fingers touched, and my heart hammered in my chest, suddenly out of sync.

I couldn’t stay here. I couldn’t stand this close to him, couldn’t let myself crumble like I always had before.

Before I could stop myself, I turned quickly and retreated to the back room, pressing my palms to the cool metal counter. The sensation of his touch still lingered on my skin, a reminder of everything I had tried to bury.

I needed to breathe. I needed to get it together. I couldn’t let him see the cracks forming. I couldn’t show him my fear.

After a few seconds, I steadied myself, wiped my palms on my apron, and walked back out, putting on my mask again.

I stepped back into the front, ready to face whatever else the day would throw at me.

But when I got to the counter, I saw that they were gone. Nicholas and his companion were nowhere to be found. A wave of relief washed over me. Maybe he hadn’t recognized me after all. Maybe I could go back to pretending my past didn’t exist.

But then I saw it. On the table where they’d been sitting was a single napkin, folded neatly.

I hesitated for only a moment before I walked over, my heart now pounding in my chest. The napkin felt heavier than it should have as I picked it up, and when I read the words scrawled across it in bold, deliberate handwriting, my entire body went cold.

“See you tomorrow, Chloe.”

The world seemed to stop.

The napkin fluttered in my hands, my breath shallow as I stared at the message. The words were simple, casual even, but the weight of them was suffocating. He was coming back.

He remembered. Or at least, he would.

And now I had no idea what came next. What would I do? How could I keep running when he was already here?

My stomach churned. The last time I saw Nicholas, I barely escaped with my life.

Now, he was back in my world. And this time, I wasn’t sure if I could outrun him again.

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  • The Russian Mafia’s Queen    CHAPTER 4

    Chloe’s POV The rest of the day went by in a blur. The hours slipped past me as I tried to keep my focus on the work at hand, each task an attempt to distract myself from the inevitable. My thoughts kept wandering back to Nicholas. Had he really recognized me? Or was I just being paranoid? No, I couldn’t be. There was something in his eyes, something that lingered between us, unspoken but felt. I couldn’t afford to get tangled up in it again, especially not now. By the time the last customer left and the café quieted down, I felt a strange sense of relief wash over me. One more hour and I could lock up, go home, and forget that today had even happened. “Hey, honey, I’m actually going out today, so can you lock up?” my mom’s voice pulled me from my thoughts as she finished her closing duties, pulling off her apron. “It’s just for an hour. You can handle that, right?” I hesitated. Normally, we closed the shop together, but this time, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-04-01
  • The Russian Mafia’s Queen    CHAPTER 5

    Nicholas’s POV The drive to Warehouse 3 felt like an eternity. The rain kept falling in sheets, blurring the streets and making the city look like it had been swallowed whole by the storm. But none of it mattered. Not the weather. Not the mess outside. I had one thing on my mind: Alex. My thoughts kept drifting, though. They kept pulling me back to Chloe. The way her eyes flickered when I asked about her past, the subtle hesitation in her words when she spoke of Boston. Every instinct in me was telling me something wasn’t right. I couldn’t shake the feeling that Chloe was hiding something. There was a sharpness to her, an edge that made her stand out among the countless faces I encountered every day. Most people tried to hide their vulnerabilities, but Chloe? She wore hers like a cloak. And that made her dangerous in its own way. I had spent years reading people, understanding them at their core, breaking down their facades, and yet with her… I couldn’t get a full read. As the rai

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-04-01
  • The Russian Mafia’s Queen    CHAPTER 6

    The scent of freshly ground coffee filled the air as I busied myself behind the counter, trying to focus on the morning rush. But my mind was restless, my hands moving on autopilot as the unease from last night lingered.I felt jumpy, my stomach twisted in knots. Would Nicholas come back today? Would he keep showing up at the café, weaving himself into my routine until I couldn’t escape?The chime of the doorbell snapped me from my thoughts. I looked up, my breath hitching slightly. But it wasn’t Nicholas.A man stepped inside—tall, with sharp features and the same commanding presence Nicholas carried. He approached the counter with a casual but deliberate stride, and as he stopped in front of me, his piercing gaze settled on mine.“Hi, Chloe. Nicholas wanted me to let you know that he can’t make it today—he has an appointment,” the man said, his voice deep but smooth. “I’m his brother, Isaac. Also, he asked me to pick up his coffee. He said you know what he likes.”I blinked at him.

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-04-02
  • The Russian Mafia’s Queen    CHAPTER 7

    The morning air is crisp, but Chloe barely notices as she steps onto the bus, her mind fogged with anxiety. The city feels different today—too loud, too sharp. Every passing car, every stranger’s glance, every footstep behind her feels like a warning.By the time she reaches the café, her hands are cold, her nerves frayed. She forces herself to breathe, to move as if today is just another day. Because it has to be.Nicholas is coming.The thought alone sends a shiver down her spine. Yesterday, she only knew him as a wealthy businessman with too much charm and too many secrets. Today, she knows the truth—he’s a killer. A man whose world operates on silence, shadows, and blood. And she is standing right in his path.Her mother notices her hesitation as she ties her apron. “Chloe, are you alright?”She forces a quick nod, her smile brittle. “Just tired.”Her mother hums in understanding, but her gaze lingers too long, filled with quiet concern.The day moves in a blur of routine. Orders.

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-04-02
  • The Russian Mafia’s Queen    CHAPTER 8

    Nicholas’s POV“He’s innocent, boss.”Clark’s voice is hesitant, but the words hit me like a bullet.For a second, I don’t react. I don’t move. I don’t breathe.Then, rage.A sharp slam echoes through my office as my fist crashes against the desk. The force sends a glass of whiskey toppling over, the amber liquid spilling across the dark wood.Alex was innocent.We killed the wrong man.I push back from my desk, pacing the room, my breaths coming hard and fast. My mind replays every detail of the hit—every calculated move, every drop of blood spilled. And for what?A mistake.Someone had played me, fed me bad information, and now an innocent man was rotting in the ground while the real witness was still out there, breathing. Hiding.I grit my teeth, fists clenching at my sides. “Who the fuck gave us that lead?”Clark swallows hard but holds my gaze. “It came from our usual channels. The intel was solid—at least, it seemed that way.”“Seemed?” I snap, turning on him. “We don’t deal in

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-04-03
  • The Russian Mafia’s Queen    CHAPTER 9

    The café hums with the usual midday rhythm—coffee machines whirring, quiet chatter filling the space, the occasional clatter of ceramic cups. Chloe keeps her head down, focusing on her tasks, but her hands tremble slightly as she wipes down the counter.Nicholas is coming.She repeats it in her mind like a warning, like a storm she can’t outrun.The bell above the door chimes, and her stomach twists.She forces herself to look up.It’s not him.Just another customer.Chloe exhales, relief and dread tangling in her chest. How long until he arrives? Until she has to face him, knowing what she knows?The hours drag. She busies herself, refilling sugar containers, adjusting pastries in the display case—anything to keep her hands occupied. Her mother comes and goes from the backroom, unaware of the war raging inside her.Then the bell chimes again.This time, it’s him.Nicholas strides in like he owns the place, like he owns the very air in the room. His presence is overwhelming, commandin

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-04-03
  • The Russian Mafia’s Queen    PROLOGUE

    ITALY (Venice) CHLOE The sun filtered through the curtains, its harsh rays glaring into my eyes. I groaned, slowly cracking them open. Another morning. Another day at work. My bed felt so warm and inviting, but I had responsibilities to meet. With a sigh, I pushed myself up, my body reluctantly following my will. I rubbed my eyes and dragged myself to the bathroom. As I picked up my toothbrush, the cold porcelain felt strange against my fingers. My mind was still foggy, but I went through the motions—brushing, gargling, and washing my face with water that was cool against my skin, helping me wake up just enough to face the day. The hot shower that followed felt like a temporary escape, the water falling over me in a soothing cascade. I let it run down my back, my muscles unwinding under its comforting heat. I scrubbed away the remnants of yesterday’s exhaustion. After a few minutes, I stepped out, wrapped a towel around myself, and made my way back to the bedroom. The mirror refle

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-04-01
  • The Russian Mafia’s Queen    CHAPTER 1

    Chloe’s POV “Here’s your change, sir,” I said, handing a crisp bill and a few coins to the businessman in front of me. He nodded in appreciation, gave me a polite smile, and walked out the door, the small bell chiming as he left. I let out a quiet breath and glanced around the café. My mother’s café. It had become a sanctuary for me over the years, a place of peace, warmth, and comfort. The scent of roasted coffee beans filled the air, mingling with the sweet fragrance of fresh pastries. The space was always full of life—customers engaged in lively conversation, the gentle clink of cups against saucers, and the occasional hiss of the espresso machine. It had been ten years since I left Italy. Ten years since I made the decision to disappear, to bury my past, to start over. I had been so afraid back then, so broken. The memories of that night—of what I had witnessed, of what I had survived—still haunted me. It felt like I had been running from it all my life, hiding from the fear t

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-04-01

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  • The Russian Mafia’s Queen    CHAPTER 9

    The café hums with the usual midday rhythm—coffee machines whirring, quiet chatter filling the space, the occasional clatter of ceramic cups. Chloe keeps her head down, focusing on her tasks, but her hands tremble slightly as she wipes down the counter.Nicholas is coming.She repeats it in her mind like a warning, like a storm she can’t outrun.The bell above the door chimes, and her stomach twists.She forces herself to look up.It’s not him.Just another customer.Chloe exhales, relief and dread tangling in her chest. How long until he arrives? Until she has to face him, knowing what she knows?The hours drag. She busies herself, refilling sugar containers, adjusting pastries in the display case—anything to keep her hands occupied. Her mother comes and goes from the backroom, unaware of the war raging inside her.Then the bell chimes again.This time, it’s him.Nicholas strides in like he owns the place, like he owns the very air in the room. His presence is overwhelming, commandin

  • The Russian Mafia’s Queen    CHAPTER 8

    Nicholas’s POV“He’s innocent, boss.”Clark’s voice is hesitant, but the words hit me like a bullet.For a second, I don’t react. I don’t move. I don’t breathe.Then, rage.A sharp slam echoes through my office as my fist crashes against the desk. The force sends a glass of whiskey toppling over, the amber liquid spilling across the dark wood.Alex was innocent.We killed the wrong man.I push back from my desk, pacing the room, my breaths coming hard and fast. My mind replays every detail of the hit—every calculated move, every drop of blood spilled. And for what?A mistake.Someone had played me, fed me bad information, and now an innocent man was rotting in the ground while the real witness was still out there, breathing. Hiding.I grit my teeth, fists clenching at my sides. “Who the fuck gave us that lead?”Clark swallows hard but holds my gaze. “It came from our usual channels. The intel was solid—at least, it seemed that way.”“Seemed?” I snap, turning on him. “We don’t deal in

  • The Russian Mafia’s Queen    CHAPTER 7

    The morning air is crisp, but Chloe barely notices as she steps onto the bus, her mind fogged with anxiety. The city feels different today—too loud, too sharp. Every passing car, every stranger’s glance, every footstep behind her feels like a warning.By the time she reaches the café, her hands are cold, her nerves frayed. She forces herself to breathe, to move as if today is just another day. Because it has to be.Nicholas is coming.The thought alone sends a shiver down her spine. Yesterday, she only knew him as a wealthy businessman with too much charm and too many secrets. Today, she knows the truth—he’s a killer. A man whose world operates on silence, shadows, and blood. And she is standing right in his path.Her mother notices her hesitation as she ties her apron. “Chloe, are you alright?”She forces a quick nod, her smile brittle. “Just tired.”Her mother hums in understanding, but her gaze lingers too long, filled with quiet concern.The day moves in a blur of routine. Orders.

  • The Russian Mafia’s Queen    CHAPTER 6

    The scent of freshly ground coffee filled the air as I busied myself behind the counter, trying to focus on the morning rush. But my mind was restless, my hands moving on autopilot as the unease from last night lingered.I felt jumpy, my stomach twisted in knots. Would Nicholas come back today? Would he keep showing up at the café, weaving himself into my routine until I couldn’t escape?The chime of the doorbell snapped me from my thoughts. I looked up, my breath hitching slightly. But it wasn’t Nicholas.A man stepped inside—tall, with sharp features and the same commanding presence Nicholas carried. He approached the counter with a casual but deliberate stride, and as he stopped in front of me, his piercing gaze settled on mine.“Hi, Chloe. Nicholas wanted me to let you know that he can’t make it today—he has an appointment,” the man said, his voice deep but smooth. “I’m his brother, Isaac. Also, he asked me to pick up his coffee. He said you know what he likes.”I blinked at him.

  • The Russian Mafia’s Queen    CHAPTER 5

    Nicholas’s POV The drive to Warehouse 3 felt like an eternity. The rain kept falling in sheets, blurring the streets and making the city look like it had been swallowed whole by the storm. But none of it mattered. Not the weather. Not the mess outside. I had one thing on my mind: Alex. My thoughts kept drifting, though. They kept pulling me back to Chloe. The way her eyes flickered when I asked about her past, the subtle hesitation in her words when she spoke of Boston. Every instinct in me was telling me something wasn’t right. I couldn’t shake the feeling that Chloe was hiding something. There was a sharpness to her, an edge that made her stand out among the countless faces I encountered every day. Most people tried to hide their vulnerabilities, but Chloe? She wore hers like a cloak. And that made her dangerous in its own way. I had spent years reading people, understanding them at their core, breaking down their facades, and yet with her… I couldn’t get a full read. As the rai

  • The Russian Mafia’s Queen    CHAPTER 4

    Chloe’s POV The rest of the day went by in a blur. The hours slipped past me as I tried to keep my focus on the work at hand, each task an attempt to distract myself from the inevitable. My thoughts kept wandering back to Nicholas. Had he really recognized me? Or was I just being paranoid? No, I couldn’t be. There was something in his eyes, something that lingered between us, unspoken but felt. I couldn’t afford to get tangled up in it again, especially not now. By the time the last customer left and the café quieted down, I felt a strange sense of relief wash over me. One more hour and I could lock up, go home, and forget that today had even happened. “Hey, honey, I’m actually going out today, so can you lock up?” my mom’s voice pulled me from my thoughts as she finished her closing duties, pulling off her apron. “It’s just for an hour. You can handle that, right?” I hesitated. Normally, we closed the shop together, but this time, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was

  • The Russian Mafia’s Queen    CHAPTER 3

    Chloe’s POV I woke up to the soft light filtering through the curtains, the faint sound of birds chirping outside breaking the silence. My alarm had already gone off, but I had snoozed it twice before finally dragging myself out of bed. The usual heaviness lingered in the air, an unsettling mix of dread and determination that had become part of my routine over the years. I ran a hand through my disheveled hair as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. There it was again—the ghost of the past that had somehow managed to resurface. The same cold feeling that had settled into my bones the moment I had seen him. Nicholas. Shaking my head, I forced myself to focus on the present. I had work to do. I couldn’t afford to lose myself in thoughts of him. Not again. I grabbed my clothes from the chair, the familiar motions of getting ready taking over. The morning routine was the same every day: a quick shower, then dressing in a simple black skirt and white blouse, nothing that would draw

  • The Russian Mafia’s Queen    CHAPTER 2

    Chloe’s POV I ran until my legs burned, my breath coming in frantic gasps as I sprinted down the cobbled streets. My pulse pounded in my ears, drowning out everything else. I didn’t care where I was going, didn’t care how late it was. I just needed to get away from him. From Nicholas. The man who had haunted my nightmares for so many years was standing right in front of me. And the moment I saw him—when I locked eyes with him—I felt the fear, the pain, and the guilt all crash back into my chest like a tidal wave. I had spent ten years running from the life I had left behind, burying my memories, convincing myself that I was safe here. But it had all come crumbling down the moment I saw him. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything except run. I didn’t know if he remembered me, but I sure as hell remembered him. The man who had been part of my worst days. The man who had been involved in things I could never undo. My footsteps faltered as I turned a corner, finall

  • The Russian Mafia’s Queen    CHAPTER 1

    Chloe’s POV “Here’s your change, sir,” I said, handing a crisp bill and a few coins to the businessman in front of me. He nodded in appreciation, gave me a polite smile, and walked out the door, the small bell chiming as he left. I let out a quiet breath and glanced around the café. My mother’s café. It had become a sanctuary for me over the years, a place of peace, warmth, and comfort. The scent of roasted coffee beans filled the air, mingling with the sweet fragrance of fresh pastries. The space was always full of life—customers engaged in lively conversation, the gentle clink of cups against saucers, and the occasional hiss of the espresso machine. It had been ten years since I left Italy. Ten years since I made the decision to disappear, to bury my past, to start over. I had been so afraid back then, so broken. The memories of that night—of what I had witnessed, of what I had survived—still haunted me. It felt like I had been running from it all my life, hiding from the fear t

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