All Chapters of BETROTHED TO THE ALPHA MAFIA KING : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

CHAPTER 2:Elara's PerspectiveThe journey to Damian Volkov's estate was shrouded in a tense silence, the landscape outside a blur of unfamiliar territories. My mind raced with thoughts of escape, but the ever-watchful eyes of my escorts extinguished any flicker of hope.As the limousine approached the grand iron gates, they creaked open, revealing a sprawling mansion that exuded both opulence and intimidation. The architecture was a blend of classic elegance and modern austerity, much like the man who awaited within.The car came to a halt, and the door opened to a man whose presence commanded attention. Nikolai "Niko" Romanov, Damian's right-hand, offered a curt nod."Miss Vasiliev," he greeted, his tone formal. "Welcome. Please, follow me."I stepped out, squaring my shoulders, determined not to show the turmoil within. The interior of the mansion was as imposing as its exterior—high ceilings, marble floors, and artwork that spoke of both wealth and a discerning eye.Niko led me to

CHAPTER 4: Elara's Perspective The days following our harrowing escape from the Zoric syndicate were a blur of heightened security measures and whispered conversations. The Volkov estate, once a symbol of unassailable power, now felt like a fortress under siege. Guards patrolled the grounds with increased vigilance, and every visitor was subjected to rigorous scrutiny. Despite the palpable tension, Damian remained a pillar of stoicism. His demeanor was as unyielding as ever, but I could sense the undercurrents of concern that lay beneath his hardened exterior. Our shared ordeal had forged an unspoken bond between us, yet the chasm of unaddressed emotions and unresolved conflicts loomed large. One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the estate, I found myself drawn to the library—a sanctuary amidst the chaos. The scent of aged paper and polished wood offered a semblance of normalcy, a brief respite from the storm that raged outside. As I perus

CHAPTER 6:Elara's PerspectiveThe aftermath of the warehouse attack left our organization in a state of heightened alert. Damian and I worked tirelessly to fortify our defenses and anticipate Sergei's next move. Despite our efforts, a sense of unease lingered, as if the shadows of the past were closing in on us.One evening, as I reviewed security protocols in my office, a knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. Niko entered, his expression unusually tense."Elara, there's someone here to see you," he announced. "She claims to have information about Sergei Ivanov."Curiosity piqued, I nodded. "Send her in."A woman stepped into the room, her demeanor confident yet cautious. She appeared to be in her early thirties, with striking features and an air of familiarity that I couldn't quite place."My name is Anya," she began, her voice steady. "I have information that could be valuable to you.""And why should I trust you, Anya?" I inquired, studying her closely.She met my gaze withou

CHAPTER 8:Elara's PerspectivePain.It was the first thing I registered as I drifted between consciousness and oblivion. A dull, burning sensation in my shoulder, a sharp ache in my side. I forced my eyes open, the dim glow of candlelight flickering against the high ceilings of a room I didn’t recognize.The bed beneath me was softer than anything I was used to, the sheets cool against my feverish skin. I tried to push myself up, but a wave of dizziness sent me back down.“Elara.”I turned my head toward the voice. Damian sat beside me, his expression unreadable, but the tension in his posture betrayed him. He looked exhausted.“How long?” My voice came out hoarse.“Three days.”Three days? I forced my sluggish mind to piece things together. Sergei. The ambush. The gunshot. Damian…I blinked. “He got away.”Damian’s jaw tightened. “For now.”I let out a slow breath, staring at the ceiling. “He won’t stop. You know that.”“I do.”Silence stretched between us. There was something about

CHAPTER 10:Elara’s PerspectiveThe scent of blood and gunpowder still clung to my clothes as I stood in Damian’s office, my hands pressed flat against the polished mahogany desk. The remnants of the ambush still burned in my mind—flames licking at the warehouse, bodies sprawled on the cold ground, the betrayal written in fire and smoke.Sergei had outplayed us tonight. But this wasn’t over.Across from me, Damian leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. His dark shirt was still stained with soot, a thin red line on his shoulder where a bullet had grazed him. He hadn't even bothered to get it bandaged yet.I broke the silence first. “We need to retaliate. Now.”Damian’s jaw tightened. “And we will.”I exhaled sharply. “Waiting gives Sergei the advantage. He knows we’re coming for him now.”He met my gaze, something dark swirling behind his eyes. “I don’t plan on waiting long.”Something in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. It wasn’t just rage. It was something colder.