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CHAPTER 4

Author: Efita
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-04-01 15:18:12

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 off. If I stayed alone, there was a higher chance that—

“I was planning on heading out with some friends,” my mom added, sensing my hesitation. “It’s just an hour. You can handle that, right?”

I forced a smile, nodding as I tied my apron around my waist. “Of course, Mom. Enjoy yourself.”

As soon as the door closed behind her, I glanced at the clock. It was 8:00 PM. One more hour.

The café was nearly empty, just a few customers lingering over their drinks, their murmurs blending with the soft music playing in the background. I felt the tension in my shoulders slowly ease as I settled into my routine, letting the minutes tick by. For a moment, I thought maybe—just maybe—nothing else would happen tonight. Maybe I could close the café, go home, and pretend none of this had ever occurred.

I was about to take a bite of a blueberry muffin when my phone slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor. Sighing, I bent down to pick it up, not realizing how fast my pulse was picking up.

And then I straightened.

He was right there.

Standing just inches away, separated only by the counter.

My breath hitched, and for a split second, everything seemed to freeze. His piercing eyes locked onto mine, unreadable yet intense.

My heart slammed against my chest as I froze, unable to move. Nicholas was standing right there, mere inches away, his gaze unwavering. The world outside seemed to fade, the sound of the café’s music, the murmur of the remaining customers—everything vanished. It was just him and me, and the unspoken tension that filled the air between us.

I barely registered the muffin crumbling in my hand as I stared at him, my thoughts jumbled, my breath shallow.

“I’d like to order coffee,” his voice broke through the thick silence, smooth and low. “Black. No sugar.”

I nodded, almost mechanically, trying to push past the rising panic in my chest. Stay calm. Act normal.

I turned away, my hands trembling slightly as I reached for the coffee machine. The dull hum of the machine and the soft clink of utensils felt like they were miles away, like I was moving in slow motion. I kept my focus on the task, but every muscle in my body screamed at me to do something—anything—but stay here.

His presence loomed over me, a constant pressure that made it difficult to breathe.

The coffee dripped slowly, and I forced myself to focus on the simple task. I couldn’t let him see how unsettled I was. I couldn’t give him any reason to know that I was anything but calm.

When I finally placed the steaming cup in front of him, I tried to steady my shaking hands.

“Here’s your coffee, sir,” I said, keeping my voice even, but the tremor betrayed me.

He didn’t move to take it right away. Instead, his gaze lingered on me, his eyes piercing, studying me in a way that made me feel exposed. I swallowed, trying to ignore the heat creeping up my neck.

“Nicholas,” he corrected softly, his voice like velvet.

I blinked, confused for a moment. “W-what?”

He smirked, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “My name is Nicholas.”

I nodded quickly, forcing my smile to stay in place. “Well, I’m Chloe.”

He chuckled “I know your name” make me smile awkwardly.

turned back to the counter, pretending to wipe it down. My mind raced. Why was he still here? He’d finished his coffee. He should have left by now.

But instead, he sat there, his eyes flicking over the décor of the café, his posture casual, as if he wasn’t in any hurry. As if he had all the time in the world.

I checked the clock. 9:00 PM. Closing time.

I cleared my throat, trying to ignore the flutter of anxiety in my stomach. “Um… Nicholas, it’s closing time.”

He didn’t respond immediately, and for a brief moment, I thought he hadn’t heard me. But then, with a smooth, almost effortless motion, he stood up.

“Great. I’ll walk you home,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I felt my stomach drop. “Oh—no, you don’t have to do that,” I stammered, my mind scrambling for a way out.

He didn’t even flinch. His expression remained cool, unfazed. “I insist.”

I sighed inwardly, the weight of inevitability pressing down on me. There was no arguing with him.

I gathered my things, my heart racing as I stepped outside into the crisp evening air. The breeze chilled me, but not as much as the thought of being alone with him again.

I was about to pull out my phone to call a cab when his voice stopped me.

“I’ll give you a ride,” he said, almost as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

I shook my head, trying to keep my composure. “No need. I can call a cab.”

His jaw tightened slightly, and his eyes narrowed just a touch. “I won’t hurt you, Chloe. I’m just offering you a ride home. You’ll save money.”

I bit my lip, about to make another excuse, when the sky seemed to shift suddenly. The first drop of rain hit my cheek, and before I could react, the sky opened up in a torrential downpour. The cold, heavy rain soaked through my clothes in seconds.

I gasped, barely processing the change in weather when, in one fluid motion, Nicholas grabbed my wrist. His grip was firm but not painful, and before I could protest, he was leading me toward his car.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice calm, like he knew exactly what was best.

I didn’t have a choice. Not now.

The warmth of the car hit me as soon as I slid into the passenger seat, the contrast to the cold rain soaking into my clothes making me shiver. Nicholas turned on the heater, glancing at me with an almost imperceptible raise of his brow.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked, his voice low, almost too soft for the silence that hung between us.

I nodded, unsure of how to answer. I was warm now, but my mind was still spinning. He didn’t know who I was. He couldn’t.

“Here,” he said, reaching into the backseat and retrieving a jacket. “You’ll need this.”

I hesitated before accepting the jacket, feeling his fingers brush mine for a fraction of a second. His touch lingered in my skin, sending an unexpected jolt through me. I pulled the jacket on quickly, trying to shake off the sensation.

“Thanks,” I muttered, barely able to keep my voice steady.

The car hummed as Nicholas started driving, the rain tapping gently against the windows. The silence in the car was suffocating, but I didn’t know what to say. What could I say? He was a stranger who didn’t recognize me, yet everything in my body screamed that this was far from ordinary.

After a few minutes, he spoke again, his voice cutting through the quiet.

“Tell me about yourself.”

I stiffened slightly, my mind instantly going on alert.

Careful, Chloe. Keep it light. Keep it casual.

I forced a smile, leaning back in my seat to give myself a moment. “Well, my name is Chloe Monroe. I work at my mom’s café. I moved here eight years ago from Boston.”

I caught a flicker of interest in his eyes as he glanced at me, though his expression remained unreadable. “Boston?”

I nodded, relieved he wasn’t pressing further. “Yeah.”

“And you?” I asked, trying to shift the focus off of me.

He smirked, though it was brief, and when he spoke again, it was with a certain cold confidence. “I’m Nicholas Romanov Fortune. The heir to Fortune Enterprises.”

The name struck something in my memory, but I couldn’t place it. I kept my face neutral, unwilling to let on that it meant anything to me.

“I have a younger brother, Ken. My parents are out of the country right now,” he added, and then fell silent.

Before I could ask anything else, he pulled up in front of my house.

“Is this the right address?” he asked, his eyes still on me.

I nodded quickly. “Yes, thank you for the ride.”

He didn’t respond immediately. His gaze lingered on me, studying me for a beat longer than what felt comfortable. Then, he gave a nod.

“Goodnight, Chloe.”

I quickly unbuckled my seatbelt and jumped out of the car, my heart still racing. I didn’t relax until I was safely inside, the lock clicking shut behind me.

Pressing my back against the door, I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breath.

What had I just done?

I had let him drive me home. The same man I had spent years running from.

I peered through the window, watching as his car drove slowly away into the night.

He doesn’t know who you are. He can’t.

But deep down, something in my gut told me that it wouldn’t be long before he did.

Then would he be so generous?

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  • 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

    Huling Na-update : 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.

    Huling Na-update : 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.

    Huling Na-update : 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

    Huling Na-update : 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

    Huling Na-update : 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

    Huling Na-update : 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

    Huling Na-update : 2025-04-01
  • 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

    Huling Na-update : 2025-04-01

Pinakabagong kabanata

  • 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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