Novels by theoligarchrose

Luca’s POVThe ravine offered temporary sanctuary cold stream water lapping at our boots, moonlight fractured through the canopy above. Dante, Rocco, and I crouched in a tight circle, breaths visible in the chill, bodies pressed close for warmth and something far more primal. Sofia’s voice had gone quiet in the comm after her last revelation, but the weight of her words lingered: Alexei Volkov wasn’t just a handler. He was her father. And the secrets ran deeper than blood.Dante broke the silence first, voice low and edged. “Tell us everything she didn’t. If we’re going after her, we need the full picture.”Rocco shifted beside me, his massive frame radiating heat. His hand rested on my thigh—casual, possessive—thumb tracing slow circles over the fabric of my pants. The touch sent sparks up my spine, reigniting the fire from earlier. I swallowed, trying to focus.“Sofia said Alexei was KGB,” I started, piecing together fragments from her comm bursts and the files I’d glimpsed in the v

Luca’s POVThe woods were a labyrinth of shadows and gunfire echoes as Dante half-carried, half-dragged me through the underbrush, his arm locked around my waist like he feared I’d vanish if he let go. Chen’s tac team had scattered—some dead, some fleeing—and Sofia’s KGB remnants were closing in, black vans cutting off escape routes. The drone overhead blinked red, Enzo’s final countdown ticking down: Eclipse in T-minus fifteen. Codes live.Dante’s breath was hot against my ear. “We need cover. Now.”We ducked into a small ravine, sliding down muddy banks until we hit a shallow stream. He pressed me against the cold earth, body shielding mine from any stray bullets. The closeness ignited something raw—erotic tension flaring despite the chaos. His scent—sweat, gun oil, blood—mixed with the forest dampness, and I felt my body respond, cock stirring against his thigh even as fear clawed my chest.“Luca,” he whispered, voice rough with everything unsaid. “I know what I did. I know I let y

Luca’s POVThe woods closed in like a living cage, Chen’s grip on my arm iron as she dragged me deeper into the trees. Her tac team fanned out behind, securing the perimeter, but her focus was singular—on me. The federal SUV idled on the dirt track, engine low, headlights cutting yellow swaths through the dark. Dante’s vehicle had been forced off the road; I could still hear distant shouts, gunshots popping like fireworks. Sofia’s comm in my ear had gone silent after her last warning: Chen’s Bratva deep cover. Viktor’s endgame.Chen shoved me against a thick oak, the rough bark biting my back through my shirt. “You think you’re clever, Marino? Whispering into that little implant?” She pressed her body against mine, thigh wedging between my legs, forcing them apart. “I know about Sofia’s KGB toys. Alexei’s old network. Cute. But you’re in my playground now.”Her dominance intensified—federal authority fused with raw, predatory hunger. She grabbed my throat, squeezing just enough to mak

Luca’s POVThe federal SUV barreled through the upstate backroads, tires kicking up gravel like scattered bones. Chen drove with one hand on the wheel, the other occasionally brushing my thigh—possessive, a reminder of her control. Dante was in a separate vehicle behind us, cuffed and flanked by her tac team, his confession still ringing in my ears: complicit in my parents’ death, tied to Viktor for years. Betrayal layered on betrayal, but the antidote coursing through me—Sofia’s gift—cleared the fog, letting me piece together her deeper KGB training.Dive deep into it: Sofia’s “residency” was a cover for her immersion in ex-KGB circles. It started in Berlin at 20, after hacking Dad’s ledgers revealed Soviet-era slush funds. She contacted “Uncle Alexei”—real name Aleksei Volkov, a KGB defector who’d gone underground in the ’90s, running a network of old spies from a nondescript warehouse in East Berlin. Alexei saw potential in her grief-fueled rage: a young American with medical acces

Luca’s POVThe cabin’s dim light flickered from a single bulb, casting long shadows across Dante’s face as he paced, his confession hanging between us like smoke from a fired gun. “I let it happen,” he repeated, voice rough with self-loathing. “Viktor approached me when I was twenty-two—right after Giovanni’s ‘heart attack.’ Said he had proof Marco ordered the poison. Offered me a deal: infiltrate for him, feed small intel, or he’d expose everything. I thought I was playing him—protecting the family. But the Marinos’ hit… Viktor mentioned it as a ‘lesson.’ I didn’t stop it. Thought it was just another loose end.”His words gutted me—Dante, my captor-turned-lover, tied to the Bratva all along. Complicit in my parents’ death. Betrayal burned hotter than the toxin ever had, but the antidote Sofia had slipped me during her “forced” vial moment cleared my head. Her hidden origins flashed: during those “residency” years, she’d connected with ex-KGB remnants in Eastern Europe—shadow networks

Luca’s POVThe forest swallowed us whole, branches whipping my naked skin as Rocco barreled through the underbrush, my body slung over his shoulder like a trophy from war. Gunfire crackled behind us—the compound erupting in flames, Viktor’s Bratva clashing with Sal’s Morettis in a final frenzy. Dante’s roar echoed distantly, a desperate hunt through the chaos. The toxin in my veins simmered low, a constant hum of weakness, but Rocco’s grip was iron—his blood from Dante’s graze soaking my side, mixing with the drying remnants of Viktor’s claim.He dropped me unceremoniously in a clearing, moonlight filtering through the canopy like fractured glass. I hit the dirt hard, wrists still raw from earlier bindings, body aching from dual dominances that had left me marked inside and out. Rocco loomed above, shaved head glistening with sweat, scars twisting in the dim light. “On your feet, accountant. We’re not done.”I staggered up, the world spinning from the poison. “Where are you taking me?