Cassiopeia Thompson’s life wasn't that of a princess, if anything it was more like a pauper's.But it was about to get worse.If only she knew..The evening began like every other charity gala she’d been dragged to; a parade of fake smiles, empty compliments, and overpriced champagne not to mention her nose gettingbombarded by the scents from hundreds of perfumes, it always made her dizzy.This time, she wasn't dizzy. If anything her hair was standing. She didn't know why but this particular evening had a different chill. Cassie couldn't quite point what it was but she was sure something was different.There was desperation in the air as socialites clung to their status with manicured nails and designer dresses that probably cost more than her college tuition.This was more than just a charity event. Something was happening, and at the back of her mind, she feared she was part of it.She’d only agreed to attend because Elijah, her stepfather, had insisted, and Ryder, her stepbrother, h
Cassie was at her wedding. It was a seaside wedding as she always wanted.Lilies and yellow hibiscus flowers adorned the walkway and the makeshift altar the silhouette of her husband and the priest stood on.She was in her mother's refurbished yellow wedding gown as opposed to the customary white gown.It had a slit up to her lower thigh with curls and curls of fabric flowing gracefully behind her.Her lone walk to the altar was one of bliss, fulfillment and pure joy. She was about to get married to the love of her life. She was the love of his life too.There would be laughter, tears of joy, and a promise of forever that meant something.As she walked to the altar, she heard someone call her name. She paused and looked behind; there was no one.She was about to continue her honorable walk to her groom when she heard her name again, this time she felt someone tapping her.Before she could make sense of it all, her eyes popped open.She was staring at the annoying hairdresser.Reality d
Life With BainCassie woke up every morning in a bed that was too big, too soft, and too cold.Alone.Bain was never there. She was grateful for it. She slept before he came to bed and by the time she woke up in the morning, he was gone.His sandalwood scent and rumpled bedside was proof that he had lain there.But every time she stepped into the dining hall, there he was, with a newspaper in his hand, almost as if he was waiting for her before he had breakfast.She was still at loss as to why they had to stay in the same room. They could pretend to be the perfect couple to outsiders, but why did they have to stay in the same room?It had been weeks since the wedding, and she was still adjusting to her new reality.Bain had laid down rules from the day of the wedding. He had strictly reminded her of her place in his world; his wife in name only, and his possession in every other sense of the word.Her existence had given "trophy wife" a new meaning, a perfect face for the public and a
Shadows of ThreatsDays turn into weeks and weeks turn into months, and Cassie began to see the Blackwood estate as home. She was never mistreated, never taken for granted or disrespected.She even began to have nice conversations with some of the staff. She became close to Mrs. Persephone the housekeeper and her personal maid, Tyler.Bane still maintained a different attitude with bouts of niceness once in a while.Though the Blackwood estate was a new development in her life, it was better than home.It was better than the torture, the insults, hunger and the abuse from Ryder and Elijah.Now she could move more freely within the house and even had the password to some areas.The Blackwood estate was beautiful, almost too perfect from the manicured lawns to the towering walls and iron gates designed to keep outsiders at bay.And yet, Ryder and Elijah could still get in.It started with calls. They came at least an hour after breakfast, almost as if whoever was at the other end of the
Unmasking the ShadowsCassie found herself drawn deeper into Bain Blackwood's world. It was a world of power and influence, yet shadowed by pasts and secrets so painful that even Bain tried to bury,The more time she spent with him, the more she noticed the cracks in his armor, revealing that beneath the calm, cold, ruthless demeanor was pain, bitterness, and a man looking for peace and love.Bain was a man of silence, a grandmaster at masking his emotions. Yet many times in his quiet moments, Cathy would catch glimpses of vulnerability.If she had not caught those moments several times, she wouldn't have believed Bain had a humanity.But moments where his gaze lingered on some family portraits that adorned the grand hallways, or when his shoulders tensed up at the mention of certain names showed that there was more to Bain than the cold exterior she had become accustomed to.He was more than a ruthless businessman or a calculatedprotector. There must be a story behind it all.Even whe
Chapter Six – The PartyCassie sat on the edge of her bed, absently twisting a loose thread on her dress as her mind raced. She had spent the last few days trying to figure out how to reach Bain, how to break through the thick walls he had built around himself.That night, when he had let his guard slip, when he had shown her even the smallest crack in his armor—it had meant something. She was sure of it.But then he had shut her out completely.Now, all she heard was his voice booming from the hallway, cold and commanding, giving orders like he was preparing for war.Her chest tightened.She hesitated only for a moment before standing. She needed to see him. Even if he pretended not to care, even if he acted as if she was invisible—she missed him.She stepped out of her room, following the sound of his voice. When she finally found him, her breath caught in her throat.Bain stood in the center of the grand hallway, flanked by his men. His presence dominated the space. He looked sharp,
Unraveling ControlCassie woke to the soft glow of morning light filtering through her curtains. But the warmth of the sun did nothing to thaw the cold ache in her chest.She could still see him.Bain.Standing in her doorway last night, his gaze burning into her, his jaw clenched like he was fighting something deep inside him.She had felt his desire.But just like always, he had walked away.Cassie let out a slow breath, pushing the blankets aside. She wouldn’t let him shut her out anymore.She slipped into a silk robe and padded down the hall, her heart pounding as she searched for him.She found him in the dining room, dressed in a crisp black shirt, sleeves rolled up, exposing the veins in his forearms. His strong hands gripped a coffee mug, but his posture was tense, like he was barely holding himself together.She swallowed hard.“Good morning, Bain,” she murmured.His grip on the mug tightened.For a second, she thought he might actually acknowledge her.But instead, he stood,
The private lounge of La Notte Nera was dimly lit, the golden glow of the chandeliers casting long shadows over the polished mahogany table. Bain sat at the head, his fingers drumming lazily against a glass of whiskey, his expression unreadable. Across from him sat Lorenzo DeLuca, a rival who had been pushing into Bain’s territory for months.The air was thick with tension.Lorenzo leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re losing your grip, Bain. Your men are getting sloppy. Your deals? Crumbling. Maybe it’s time you stepped aside before someone does it for you.”Bain’s jaw tightened, but he exhaled slowly, keeping his fury in check. “Is that a threat, Lorenzo? Because if it is, you’re more foolish than I thought.”Lorenzo chuckled, swirling his own drink. “Not a threat, just an observation. Maybe you should be more focused instead of distracted by that little pet of yours.”Bain’s grip on his glass tightened, his knuckles turning white. “Careful, DeLuca. The last man who under
Valeria was losing patience.The black coin had already been delivered. Not just to a market. Not to a warehouse or a street-run crew. No—this time, she’d sent it straight to the gates of his fortress.Bain Blackwood’s compound.A bold move. A declaration of war.And yet… nothing.No retaliation. No reply. No counterstrike.She paced the dark loft of her hideout, the sharp clack of her heels against marble echoing like gunshots. Kain leaned against the wall behind her, arms crossed, expression blank. The assassin was a brutal storm in a quiet sky—always still before the kill. She trusted him more than most, which said very little. But even he looked slightly on edge now.“He’s waiting,” Valeria muttered, more to herself than anyone else. “Watching. Calculating. That’s what he does. But the longer he waits, the more dangerous he becomes.”Kain said nothing.Valeria spun toward one of her lieutenants, a wiry man with a split lip and trembling fingers. “What are the latest movements?”He
The SUV growled as it tore down the midnight streets of the city, its windows tinted, its driver silent. Bain Blackwood sat in the back seat, a storm barely contained beneath his skin. His eyes burned with fury, his hand resting on the pistol strapped to his thigh—not because he needed it, but because control was becoming a fragile thing.The massacre had happened less than an hour ago. One of his oldest markets—gone. Burned. Every man inside executed. It wasn’t just a message.It was a declaration.And left behind, in the middle of the bloodstained floor, was a single black coin.The same kind Bain once used as a symbol of finality.But this coin… wasn’t his.It bore no insignia. No carving. Just black, polished steel. Cold and silent.Valeria’s signature.She was playing his own game now.Viktor’s voice echoed in his mind from the call minutes earlier. “We cleared the scene. No witnesses. It was surgical, Bain. She didn’t just hit it to provoke you—she studied our rotation, our resp
The sky over New York bled gray as the first whispers of morning slithered through the city’s alleys. But in the heart of the Blackwood estate, there was no sunrise—only smoke.Bain stood in the center of the war room, eyes locked on the tablet in Viktor’s hands. The footage was grainy, taken from one of his security drones. What remained of one of his black market hubs looked like a warzone. Bodies scattered like discarded dolls. Fire licking the bones of steel scaffolding. Blood painted across concrete.And in the center, placed delicately atop a broken crate—A single obsidian coin.Unmarked. Untraceable. But he knew what it meant.Valeria.Viktor’s voice was like gravel. “They were tortured before they were killed. The cameras were disabled thirty seconds before the attack. Whoever did this knew the layout like the back of their hand.”Bain didn’t blink. “Someone gave her intel.”“They didn’t just hit the market, Bain. They destroyed it. This was a message.”Bain’s jaw clenched, h
The day broke with the scent of ash.Bain Blackwood stood on the balcony outside his office, the city sprawled out before him like a kingdom on the edge of a storm. A single call had shattered the early morning calm—a call from one of his lieutenants on the east side.The moment he answered, he felt it in his bones.“There’s been an attack.”The voice was tight, urgent. “Market district. One of ours. Ten men dead. Burned. And they left something behind.”Bain’s voice dropped, razor sharp. “What?”A beat.“A coin. Black. Right in the center of the carnage.”Bain didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. Just stared out at the skyline as the wind picked up around him.It wasn’t just an attack.It was a message.—Inside the mansion, the warmth of their new life still clung to the walls. Cassie padded through the hallway barefoot, their son tucked gently in her arms. She paused by the nursery window, catching the flicker of tension in Bain’s frame as he stood alone outside, the breeze ruffling his shi
Bain sat in the quiet of the nursery, his son cradled in his arms, his gaze softened as he watched the tiny life in his hands. The baby’s breath was even and gentle, completely unaware of the storm that was brewing just outside the walls of their peaceful sanctuary.He let out a breath, steadying himself. The weight of responsibility was different now. It wasn’t just power or violence that he had to protect—it was love. It was family. And the past, in all its ugly, blood-soaked glory, had returned to remind him just how fragile that could be.His phone buzzed again—an encrypted video call from Petrov and SokolovWithout hesitation, Bain swiped the screen, the familiar faces of his sworn brothers appearing on the screen. They both smiled when they saw him, a moment of genuine warmth breaking through the tension that had lingered in Bain’s chest since Viktor’s news.Petrov, as always, looked like a man who had stepped out of a warzone—and Sokolov, ever the strategist, gave a sharp nod as
The scent of blood and expensive perfume hung in the air like smoke.Valeria lounged on a velvet chaise in her private suite, the lighting dim, casting shadows that danced like old ghosts on the walls. A glass of red wine swirled in her hand, the liquid as dark as her thoughts. She wore silk—crimson, like fresh blood—and nothing else. The room around her looked like the den of a queen from some violent fairytale: gold-dusted mirrors, antique weapons mounted beside oil paintings, and a wall-length map of New York City dotted with pins and notes in sharp, angry handwriting.Her lips curved into a lazy smile as she lifted the glass to her mouth.“He’s scared,” she murmured. “I can feel it.”Across the room, her informant shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t one of her usual playthings—too tense, too serious—but his intel was valuable. And she had a taste for useful men, even if they bored her.“You asked for a full report,” he said, straightening. “And you need to hear it before you make ano
The sun poured softly through the tall windows of the Blackwood estate, golden light draping over the polished marble floors and velvet curtains. For once, silence didn’t mean tension—it meant peace.Cassie sat curled up in the nursery, her newborn son nestled against her chest. He was small, warm, and impossibly perfect. His little fingers clutched at the lace of her robe as he slept, his breathing soft and steady.Bain stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his broad chest, watching her with a look that no one else ever got to see—soft, reverent, protective. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. Everything was right, at last.Luca wandered past behind him, cradling a mug of coffee, still shirtless, clearly making himself at home. Ryder trailed after him, yawning and muttering something about needing better espresso. They’d both moved in after the chaos had ended, claiming the guest wing. Family. Finally.For the first time in their violent, b
The night air was thick with smoke and the metallic scent of blood. The abandoned fortress outside Prague burned in the distance, casting a hellish glow over the field where it all came to an end.Bain stood at the center of the battlefield, his black coat soaked in blood—his and his enemies’. His breath came in ragged bursts. His knuckles were raw, his jaw bruised. But his eyes burned with vengeance.Volkov was still standing too, blood streaming from a gash over his eye, his lip split, one arm hanging limp from a dislocated shoulder. Around them, bodies littered the ground—Volkov’s men, torn apart by Bain’s soldiers and the loyal Bratva.Petrov and Sokolov had arrived like thunder, their forces crashing down in a synchronized assault. The Russians fought with brutal efficiency, honoring Bain’s loyalty with bloodshed and power. Gunfire echoed, men screamed, but Bain heard none of it.He saw only Volkov.“You came all this way,” Volkov spat, staggering to his feet, “for a girl.”Bain’s
The days passed in a blur for Cassie. Life in the farmhouse had become a strange sort of calm. The couple who had taken her in, Mary and George, treated her with nothing but kindness. They provided a safe refuge for her and her unborn child, but Cassie could never shake the feeling that the storm was still brewing, just waiting to crash down.Her belly had grown more prominent in the past few months. At seven months pregnant, every movement was a reminder of the life she carried inside her, a life that had kept her grounded, kept her going. She tried to stay positive, to focus on the moments of peace she found in the farmhouse, but her thoughts were constantly drawn to Bain.She missed him, more than she cared to admit. His absence left a hole in her chest, a constant ache that never quite went away. The uncertainty of what had happened to him—where he was, if he was okay—kept her awake at night, staring out at the horizon, hoping that one day he would come for her. She had faith. She