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2025-07-04 07:48:55
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A Bride For A Truce Smoke before the fire
Adrik’s Pov Sergei slid the folder across the table like it was just another dossier. But we both knew it wasn’t. I didn’t reach for it. Not yet. “What do you have for me?” “We confirmed it,” he said, his tone low and steady. “Matteo Ricci. A camorra soldier. Former foot soldier. He’s been climbing the ranks for years—quietly. Kept his nose clean on paper, but he’s one of theirs.” I opened the file slowly, flipping through photographs, phone logs, surveillance records. Pages of Matteo’s activity from the last six months. Then one image hit like a gut punch. It was Matteo walking into that café in the mall. The same one Sera, Irina, and Diana had visited months ago. My jaw clenched. “That day…” I murmured. “When a man bumped into Sera. She found a letter slipped into her bag warning her not to trust me.” Sergei tapped the photo. “He’s the one who planted it. We traced a burner phone he used—he made a call less than an hour later. That number is tied to Viktor Pavlov
A Bride For A Truce I love you baby
SERA It had been three days since Adrik found out about the letters. Three days of him giving me half-hearted nods and distance. He still spoke to me. Technically. But every word was clipped. Every glance, cold. Like he was forcing himself to remain civil. Like the quiet war inside him hadn’t yet decided whether to forgive me—or shut me out for good. This morning, I caught him swimming laps in the rooftop pool. His strokes were sharp, methodical, and angry. With each stroke, his muscles flexed and I couldn't help but admire him. I padded in quietly, my robe wrapped tight around me. My fingers twisted the sash nervously as I stood at the edge of the water. “Adrik?” I said gently. He didn’t stop. “Can we talk?” He came up for air, pushing wet hair out of his face. “Oh wow. Someone suddenly wants to tell her husband things,” he said sarcastically. “Please,” I said, stepping closer. He rested his arms on the edge, water dripping down his shoulders. “You shou
A Bride For A Truce Told me sooner
Sera (A week later)The sky was still a deep gray when I slipped out of bed, my heart pounding like a warning bell in my chest.Adrik’s arm was draped over my waist, his breathing even and steady beside me. Safe. Solid. Warm. And yet the guilt that gnawed at my insides didn’t care about warmth or comfort. It chewed through everything, relentless and cold. It had been a little over a week since I spoke to Diana and with each passing day, I felt like I was digging myself into a hole I might not be able to crawl out from.I tiptoed out of bed and padded toward the kitchen, wrapping my robe tighter around myself. The penthouse was silent—except for the soft hum of the espresso machine as I prepared his coffee, the way he liked it. Strong, no sugar, splash of cream.My fingers trembled as I carried the mug back upstairs. He was still lying on his side, bare chest half-buried beneath the comforter, his dark hair tousled from sleep.He looked peaceful.I hated that I was about to ruin t
A Bride For A Truce Actions have consequences
ADRIKThe scent of toasted brioche and cinnamon wafted through the air as I stepped into the kitchen, fastening the last button on my cuffs.She stood by the stove in nothing but one of my shirts, sleeves rolled up, bare legs brushing the cool tiles. The morning light spilled across her highlighting her Auburn hair.I leaned against the doorway, my arms crossed. “You’re really trying to keep me home, aren’t you?”She glanced back with a smirk. “You think this is enough to keep you from the Bratva world?”I walked up behind her, wrapped my arms around her waist, and nuzzled the side of her neck.“No,” I said against her skin. “But it makes me wish I could leave it behind.”She stilled for a second. Then she flipped the egg in the pan and exhaled. “Then come back in one piece. That’s all I ask.”I kissed her shoulder, letting my lips linger on her waist. “Always.”And in that moment I felt peace. The kind only she could give me. The kind that felt like home.
A Bride For A Truce Sweetest Feeling 🔞
Viktor Morocco was such a beautiful country, the locals were warm and friendly, the food was a bit too spicy for me, and the women? They had the best bodies and warmest pussies I had ever fucked. I had been laying low in Morocco for about three months and honestly I didn't feel the need to go back to New York yet. My burner phone buzzed on the stool beside the pool. I answered on the first ring. “Talk.” Matteo’s voice floated into my ears. Low and cautious. “Diana called me.” That made me sit forward. “And?” “She asked me to dig into Vincenzo’s inner circle. She showed me old letters that her friend Sera found. Apparently, Emilia and Yelena were friends. Emilia mentioned someone in one of the letters, a man she couldn't trust.” I paused. My fingers tightening around the neck of the woman that was currently riding my cock. “Does she suspect anything?” Matteo exhaled. “No, she trusts me. She thinks I’m trying to help her.” “Good,” I murmured. “Keep her close. Feed her b
A Bride For A Truce We‘re Sisters, Sera
Sera The café was tucked away in Little Italy, off a quiet side street, all dark wood and soft lights and cinnamon in the air. I sat near the back, a scarf wrapped tightly around my shoulders, even though it wasn’t that cold. My nerves were doing enough of a job freezing me from the inside out. I hadn’t slept much. The letters were all I could think about. Diana arrived ten minutes later, hair piled into a messy bun, sunglasses perched on her head, and a curious frown on her lips. “Okay, you’re officially freaking me out,” she said as she slid into the seat across from me. “What’s going on?” I looked down into my untouched espresso, then back up at her. “I went to see my father.” Her brows lifted. “Seriously?” I nodded. “He called while I was still in Russia and I promised I'd visit once I returned.” Diana leaned in. “And?” “The dinner was awkward. He tried to play nice. Apologized, even.” I shrugged. “I didn’t buy it. But that’s not the problem.” “The
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