All Chapters of Deadly Enimity : A love forged in Hate: Chapter 21 - Chapter 29

ELVIS POVI nodded toward Luca and Pavel, signaling them to fall back. Pavel complied, retreating slowly, but Luca hesitated, keeping his weapon trained on Oleg. He didn’t lower it until the very last moment before finally stepping back.Oleg yanked me forward by my shirt, his grip tight, his face mere inches from mine.“What exactly are you trying to prove?” he spat, his voice biting. “Just because I didn’t put a bullet in your skull when I had the chance, you think that makes you special?” His gun pressed against my forehead, his icy stare cutting through me.I exhaled sharply, fighting to keep my composure. “You know, that far from the truth,” I countered, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. His breath was heavy, fanning against my face as he kept his hold firm.“Shut up.” His voice was sharper this time, a bark of anger. “Just like you did to my brother, I could return the favor right here, right now. So don’t test me.” His tone dropped to a near whisper,

ELVIS POVAfter the funeral, thoughts of the boy I had met lingered in my mind. His image remained with me, but as time passed, the memory gradually faded. By the time I turned eleven, he had become a distant recollection. That changed when Sergei Petrov's family moved to our town. Word of their relocation spread rapidly, but I paid it little mind, "confident our paths would never cross, and even less concerned with their peculiar son". Unbeknownst to me, fate had other plans. When I was in middle school, the Petrov siblings joined my school, causing subtle ripples to spread almost instantly among students. Just like when they moved, their presence became the center of attention. Stories circulated about their years in the U.S., their impossible good looks, and their remarkable ability to excel at everything they touched. They became the kind of people others admired and envied from afar. Everyone knew our fathers were rivals, entangled in a war across both global business and th

ELVIS POV“Mama!” I called out. My frustration rang out, filling the mansion.She turned to me with an easy smile. “Oh, Ivan, meet Oleg. You remember Sergei mentioning his son at the funeral, right? He and Luca were hanging out this evening, so I picked him up.”My stomach coiled tight. “He shouldn’t be here. Father will be furious.”"I invited him, so there shouldn’t be an issue," she reasoned softly. "Besides, he’s practically your brother. You should be welcoming him, not pushing him away."I snapped my head toward Luca, who shifted uncomfortably under my glare. He faintly murmurs, “We’re just gonna play games and chill, that’s all…”I ignored him, turning back to my mother with a scowl. “No, he’s not. And he never will be.”Oleg merely curved his lips, undeterred by my hostility.“Ivan, don’t be a brat,” Mama scolded, then turned to Oleg, her tone immediately softer.To my annoyance, his expression switched instantly—his usual arrogance replaced by a performance “almost pitiful”.

ELVIS POVI stood in the doorway like a ghost exhumed from a life I’d buried long ago, hands tucked deep into my pockets, yet nothing could shield me from the cold that seeped from the walls, making my bones ache as if they remembered the pain before I did."The room hadn't changed in the slightest. The same green sofa where my father once lounged like a king, meting out punishment. The chandelier still hung above like a monstrous steel spider, its harsh light splintering across the polished table—the very one where I used to count reflections, dazed and bleeding, after another 'lesson.' My muscles tensed involuntarily, phantom bruises coming alive beneath my skin. Even the scent hadn't faded: a nauseating blend of cigars, dried blood, and aged whiskey, woven so deeply into the furniture that it seemed to exhale pain."Young Don," a voice called out.I looked up sharply, dumbfounded by how distant I’d become in my skin. But no explanation followed. Instead, I found myself frozen on th

ELVIS POVMy father rose from his chair, and I followed suit, instinctively mirroring his steps as he paced the room like a caged lion. His cane tapped rhythmically against the floor until he halted abruptly.""From what I gathered," he said, eyes fixed ahead, "it was Oleg who leaked that video…?"His tone was a loaded verdict masked as a question.Words caught in my throat, stuck between denial and truth.Without warning, his walking stick snapped against the back of my knee. The blow was so sudden, I collapsed with a groan, my leg buckling like it had been yanked out from under me. Pain shot up my thigh as I clutched the floor.you stupid boy, what a waste!! he hissed, like spitting poison through his teeth. “I wasn’t trying to—”. I exhaled shakily, burning hotter than anger.His eyes scanned me.“That footage going around... only you and I knew about it when it was sent to me three years ago,” he stated, leaning on his cane. “It came from a burner number. I made sure to wipe every t