Novels by Sinachi

The city lights of America faded into the blackness below, each one a tiny pinprick of a world I was taking Isabella away from. My gaze lingered on the view from the window, the darkness mirroring the emptiness I’d felt my entire life. Until her.I’d spent my life building an empire of shadows, a kingdom forged in blood and fear. My name, Vladimir Volkov, was a whisper that made men tremble. I was the boogeyman. No I am worst than the Boogeyman, I'm the man you send to kill the boogeyman. I had always reveled in that power, in the control that came with being the one everyone feared. It was a shield, a wall I had built around myself, brick by bloody brick, to keep the world out. My mother, Irina, had shown me what happened when you were weak, what happened when you let people in. Her inaction, her silence in the face of my father's cruelty, had taught me a fundamental truth: sentiment was a weakness. Love was a liability. It was a lesson I had lived by, a creed that had kept me ali

A wave of exhaustion washed over me as I sat at my desk. The low hum of the computer screen was the only sound in the office, a stark contrast to the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my head. I stared at the report, but the words blurred into a meaningless jumble. My mind was on my mother, her calls a steady stream of notifications I couldn't bring myself to answer. How do you explain this? How do you lie about leaving your entire life behind for a man you barely know, a man whose very name was enough to incite fear? The anxiety was a physical weight in my chest. Work, once a source of calm, now felt like a fragile distraction from a life spinning out of control.My two suitcases sat by the door, packed this morning. Not that there was much in them; Vladimir had insisted on light luggage, assuring me that everything I could possibly need was already waiting for me. But as I stared at the empty space on the desk where my personal photos usually were, I knew he was wrong. Everything I

The warmth of his body had long since faded, yet the memory lingered, a silent echo in the sheets, in the pervasive quiet. The bed beside me lay empty, the cotton cool beneath my fingertips, but his scent, dark, earthy, unmistakably masculine, still clung to the air. His gaze from the night before haunted me: possessive, unreadable, yet carrying a vulnerability that unsettled more than it comforted. Today, incredibly, marked our first official date. A surreal notion, considering he had already staked a claim on my future with the subtle force of an oncoming storm.He departed soon after, leaving the day to stretch long in his absence. The silence felt unfamiliar, his presence having carved out more space in my world than I cared toadmit. I plunged into work, attempting to reclaim some semblance of control. Butbeneath every action, the pulse of anticipation beat steady and strong.I chose the forest green silk midi dress with careful deliberation. The fabric movedlike water as I sli

The initial warmth was a deceptive comfort, quickly replaced by the jolt of full awareness. A heavy, unfamiliar weight pressed against me, and my eyes snapped open to the sight of a muscular arm draped across my waist. Vladimir. His presence in my bed was an immediate, jarring intrusion. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic rhythm that accelerated as a familiar wave of nausea surged through me.I scrambled from the bed, my hand clamped over my mouth, barely reaching the bathroom before my body rebelled. Violent retches tore through me, mingling with ragged, involuntary sobs. A strong hand was instantly there, gathering my hair, while a thumb rubbed soothing circles on my lower back. I registered a low murmur of indistinct words, lost beneath the tumult of my distress. When the storm subsided, I rinsed my mouth and meticulously brushed my teeth, pointedly avoiding his gaze in the mirror. Anger simmered within me, fueled by his unannounced entry into my home, and a cold dread ti

I don’t know what Vladimir expects from me, all this is still foreign to me and him coming here and demanding for answers on something that i just found out about is foolish and to top it up him being a mob boss is not what i expected, i’m fucked i can already imagine how bad all this will go.I sigh and shake my head in a mix of feelings, and not sure how I should react right now. "What do you want?" I look back up at him."Meaning?""Meaning, why are you here? Usually, men like you agree or disagree with paying for a child, yes? Or tell me to get an abortion, it's up to you." I roll my eyes."One, roll pretty little eyes at me, very disrespectful. I do not like it when people are disrespectful.Two, I am here because I plan to be in both your and your baby's lives." He said all of this with the same stone facial expression, it wasn't in a heartless way, but more of a blank look.His eyes narrowed at me as I raised an eyebrow at him, "Who says I want you in my life? You can be part

Two weeks laterI stood in front of my mirror, checking out my outfit and making sure no hairs were sticking out from my slicked-back sock bun.I placed my wallet, phone, and keys in my pocket before walking out of the room. Stopping in the middle of the kitchen and living room, I noted the dining room was full of takeout boxes. I'd told Caroline countless times to clean up after herself, but she never listened. That girl was tempting me, but I didn't have time for that now; I had a doctor's appointment in the next hour.The ringing of my phone stopped me from walking out the door of my apartment. I looked and saw the caller ID: Mr. Mason. Oh, that’s my boss.“Hello, Isabella, how are you doing?” I heard his gruff voice as I instantly picked up the call.“I’m fine, boss. Is there a problem at the office? Because I requested this day off,” I said, a hint of steel in my voice. I'd be damned if he made me come all the way there.“No, that’s not it. I just want to let you know t