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40. He was protective or?
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2025-05-15 23:57:26
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Becoming the Forbidden Possession of the Mafia Boss 87. Flirt
Nikolai’s POVThe pain that shot through my chest when Adrian’s hand made contact was nothing compared to the expression on his face. The way his eyes twitched and his lips parted in complete devastation. His eyes slowly met mine and that hint of total concern, it cut through my defenses more effectively than any blade ever could. I wanted to retreat but my feet wouldn’t move. His hands ruffled through my shirt and I held his wrist. “Don’t,” I started, but the word came out weaker than intended, barely a whisper against the thundering of my pulse.Adrian’s fingers worked again at the buttons of my shirt when I tried to struggle with him again, he hit my hand and shoved it off like I was some child.I found myself frozen.Part of me craved his touch, even knowing it would expose everything I’d been trying to hide.“Adrian, stop.” I took a step back, my waist hitting the railings and a pain shot through the wound. I grasped. But he looked at me then, really looked at me, and there
Becoming the Forbidden Possession of the Mafia Boss 86. A weak Nikolai
Adrian's PovThe weight of Nikolai’s words hung between us like a loaded gun. “I will give you access to the company’s funds so you can finish up with the project.”I squinted at him, my mind racing to process what he’d just offered. “Why?” The question came out sharper than I intended. “Why would you trust me with that kind of access?”Something flickered in his steel-gray eyes, too quick for me to interpret. Was it calculation? Concern? Whatever it was, it spoke to the tenderness I felt in his touch just hours ago.The silence stretched between us. I found myself studying his face, searching for any trace of the vulnerable man who had collapsed into my arms last night. But the mask was firmly in place now, that carefully constructed facade of control and composure that made Nikolai Volkov so formidable.“To hasten the project.” I pushed the remaining toast around my plate, my appetite completely gone. The intimacy of the moment felt surreal, here we were, sharing breakfast lik
Becoming the Forbidden Possession of the Mafia Boss 85. The morning after
Adrian’s POVThe morning sun streamed through the wide terrace doors, casting golden rectangles across the hardwood floor. I woke facing the glass, my body heavy with sleep and a languid satisfaction that made my muscles feel loose and warm. The constant beeping of the alarm clock beside the bed pierced through my drowsy haze, forcing my tired eyes to snap open.Eleven o’clock. Nikolai would be long gone by nowl. The thought sent a pang of something I refused to name through my chest. Last night had been…A hand suddenly crossed my body, reaching for the offending alarm clock. The beeping stopped abruptly, and then the clock clattered to the floor with a crash that made my heart jump just as loudly. I went rigid, every nerve ending suddenly alive with awareness.Nikolai was still here. Still in bed beside me.I turned slowly, afraid of what I might see. Would he regret last night? Would the composed, untouchable Nikolai Volkov be back, leaving no trace of the vulnerable man who h
Becoming the Forbidden Possession of the Mafia Boss 84. He placed him down, and said with him.
Adrian's PovThe past week had been the strangest of my life. Seven days of confinement that felt more like a breathing space than prison. I’d grown accustomed to the routine, waking when sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains, eating the meals left by silent servants, reading books from Nikolai’s extensive library. For the first time in seven years, I wasn’t walking on glass, wasn’t calculating every word before it left my mouth, wasn’t bracing for Leonardo’s cutting remarks or dodging Vivian’s poisonous schemes. It should have terrified me, being at the mercy of Nikolai Volkov. Yet somehow, I felt safer in his captivity than I ever beingI’d spent hours staring out the window, watching the grounds of his house. The evening air carried a chill that made me pull the cashmere throw tighter around my shoulders. I’d been dozing in the leather armchair by the window, a book of Russian poetry forgotten in my lap. When I woke, the room was bathed in the amber glow of the setting
Becoming the Forbidden Possession of the Mafia Boss 83. Our kiss
Nikolai's Pov The words hit me like a physical blow. Gregory, who could thread a needle at fifty yards, who’d saved my life countless times with his perfect aim, might never see again. The injustice of it made my hands clench into fists, knuckles white with rage.I walked to the window, staring out at the sunny afternoon that seemed to mock our suffering. The light was too bright, too cheerful.Standing there, I was transported back ten years. Another hospital, another window, another person lying motionless in a bed behind me. But that time, the machines had eventually gone silent. That time, I’d watched the only person I’d ever loved slip away while I stood helpless, still believing that money and power could fix anything.Marcus had been everything to me—lover, confidant, the one person who’d seen past the Mancini name to the man underneath. We’d made plans, quiet dreams of a future where we could be together without hiding, without fear. He’d been killed for those dreams, t
Becoming the Forbidden Possession of the Mafia Boss 82. Acceptance
Nikolai’s POVBlood pooled beneath us. I squeezed Gregory’s hand, feeling his pulse flutter weakly against my palm. His eyes had opened, focusing on mine with tremendous effort, and in that moment, the years collapsed between us.I remembered the first time I’d seen Gregory, back in the frozen streets of Moscow. He’d been crouched on a rooftop, rifle trained on Governor Petrov’s black sedan, his breath forming white clouds in the bitter air. Most would have seen a terrorist, an assassin to be eliminated. But when I’d cornered him in that abandoned warehouse, when I’d seen the raw grief carved into his young face, I’d recognized something else entirely.“He killed them all,” Gregory had whispered, his voice breaking like glass. “My mother, my sister, my father. Burned our village to cover his tracks.” The weight of loss had bent his shoulders, made him seem smaller than his nineteen years.I could have killed him then. Should have, by all rights. Instead, I’d helped him finish what
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