Lahat ng Kabanata ng Married Off To The Merciless Mafia King : Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

DMITRII’m halfway down the stairs when I hear footsteps behind me. My instinct sharpens, and for a moment, I slow, thinking it’s Ana. The thought makes my mind wander, unbidden, back to last night.Thank you for bringing Yelena home safely.The words still echo in my head. They weren’t what I intended to say. Hell, they felt wrong even as I said them. But there was something in Ana’s expression, that defiant tilt of her chin, like she was waiting for me to tear into her, waiting for the usual criticism. And in that split second, I saw it—how I was missing the bigger picture. She brought Yelena home in one piece. Yelena, who doesn’t stop until she’s blind drunk, was safe because of Ana.I don’t know how the thanks slipped out of my mouth, but they did. And somehow, it felt okay. Almost natural. The look of shock on her face was unexpected, but the real surprise was how light I felt afterward, like I’d broken some unspoken rule between us by not turning it into an argument.Lately, eve

ANAI drag myself out of the car, my feet heavy as lead as I make my way to the graveyard behind the gated fence. Every step feels like I’m wading through thick mud, weighed down by the endless tears I’ve cried and the hollow ache in my chest. I don’t even know how I made it here, but somehow, I keep moving.I push open the gate with trembling fingers and let my legs carry me to the headstone. The graveyard is quiet, almost untouched, the few bodies buried here belonging to people connected to my family. It’s a private place, away from the world.It’s where my father buried my mother. Every year since I was two, he brought me here to visit her.“Mamochka.” I fall to my knees, letting my body crumble in front of her grave. The tears spill freely now, rolling down my cheeks as my shaking hands brush the dirt off the headstone.Maria Petrov. Mother and Wife. Gone, but never forgotten.I trace the letters with my fingertips, as if touching her name might somehow bring her closer to me.“M

DMITRII wake slowly, blinking against the sunlight spilling through the window. I can feel warmth on my face, the rare sensation of peace wrapped around me. That’s unusual, considering I barely sleep more than five hours on a good night. The weight of endless responsibilities usually keeps me half-awake, always vigilant. But this morning feels different.Something shifts in the bed beside me.I turn my head, and there she is. Ana.I freeze.What is she doing here?And then it hits me—last night. The memories come flooding back as I glance around the room, seeing the telltale signs. The way we tangled together, the heat between us as she clung to me, the feel of her skin under my hands. We fucked, and I let myself fall asleep with her in my arms.I shouldn’t have.I should’ve walked away, should’ve left the room before things got messy. But instead, I stayed, and now I’m lying here like a damn fool, watching her sleep.I try to reason with myself, to dismiss the strange pull in my che

ANA“Do you know what time it is?” Yelena’s voice pops into my office like a bright, yellow ray of sunshine.I glance up from my paperwork to see her head peeking around the door, a grin already plastered on my face. “What time is it?”The door swings open wider, and there she is, in all her mini-skirt glory, her arms thrown wide like she’s about to announce a surprise party. “Shopping time!” she declares, as if it’s a national holiday.I laugh, shaking my head and pointing at the mountain of paperwork threatening to swallow my desk. “I’d love to, but I’ve got work, Yelena. Crime doesn’t take a day off.”She plops down into the chair opposite me, dramatically sighing like I’ve just told her there’s no wi-fi. “These papers will still be here tomorrow, but the perfect handbag? The statement shoes? They’ll be gone. Come on, let’s take the afternoon off.”I pull my hand away from her outstretched one with a regretful smile. “As tempting as that sounds, I can’t. I think my bosses might fro

DMITRII slide the file across the desk, watching as Igor Pavlov scrambles to open it like it holds the secret to saving his skin. It does—just not in the way he thinks. He flips through the pages hurriedly, glancing up at me with those darting, nervous eyes. Desperate men never read the fine print. That’s why I like doing business with them.“As I promised,” I say, tapping the folder with my finger, “the paperwork for the casino project. All you need to do is sign.”I push the pen toward him, watching him swallow hard. The clock’s ticking, and I know he’s feeling the heat. He needs this deal to go through. The former owners gave him a deadline, and he’s on the edge of losing everything.He won’t bother reading the part where I take full control after a year. Not until it’s too late.Igor hesitates when he gets to the signature page, looking up at me with a pathetic attempt at confidence. “How’re we working out the investment? What’s the interest? How long do I have to pay you back?”