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Chapter Ten: The Monster Behind That Mask.
Last Updated:
2025-08-26 18:34:12
SinachiDear Readers, Thank you so much for being here with me on this journey. 💖 The story only gets deeper from here — more love, more secrets, more twists that will keep your heart racing. 🔥 Your support means the world to me, and I promise the best is yet to come. ✨ With all my love and gratitude, [Sinachi]
Latest chapter
CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter 95: THE FIRST DATE NIGHT.
The idea of a “date night” in the Volkov fortress was inherently absurd. It wasn't just the sheer logistics of preparing a meal behind several metric tons of reinforced steel; it was the psychological dissonance of trying to foster candlelight romance with a man who could, and often did, sign a death warrant between sips of wine. Yet, here we were.I stood in the dressing room, smoothing the silk of a simple, deep-ruby dress. I hadn't worn anything that wasn’t a suit or a silk robe in weeks. The simple act of choosing perfume felt like a rebellious act of normalcy. Chiara was in the nursery, utterly in her element, rocking Giovanni to sleep while Ivan snored softly in his cot. Knowing she was there, a solid, loving presence holding the center, allowed me to step away without the crushing guilt that had haunted my first few weeks of recovery.Vladimir entered the room, having completed his last video conference of the day with Ivan and Viktor regarding the distribution of the former Sp
CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter 94: THE NEW SECURITY.
The hour was close to midnight. The snow outside was falling silently, heavily, adding layer upon layer to the fortress we inhabited. The silence of the house had become a new kind of tyranny; every soundless moment felt like a concealed threat, every quiet hallway a potential corridor of failure.I stood by the window of the twins’ nursery, watching the perimeter lights sweep across the grounds. Ivan and Giovanni were asleep in their adjacent cots, small, perfect miracles protected by layers of bulletproof glass and reinforced steel walls. Chiara was down the hall in her new, carefully soundproofed wing, finally finding the rest she deserved. Isabella was behind me, her presence a low, humming comfort, proof that the impossible had been achieved.I should feel peace. I have won the war, cemented the alliance, and secured my wife and sons. But peace is a dangerous illusion. It breeds complacency, and complacency kills. I will not be complacent. Not again.I turned back into the room.
CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter 93: CHIARA'S PEACE.
The sunlight in the Conservatory was a blessed, gentle thing, spilling through the glass ceiling and warming the air around the tropical plants Vladimir kept meticulously maintained. It was the only room in the Volkov estate that felt entirely removed from the cold Russian landscape and the darker operations run beneath it. It felt like Milan, a deliberate choice, I knew, made for my mother.We were gathered for a late, intimate lunch. Not a feast, but a simple spread of Italian comfort food prepared by a nervous but attentive chef. Vladimir was across from me, speaking quietly with Viktor about a new security detail for the compound’s perimeter. I watched my mother, Chiara, sitting opposite me. She was dressed in a soft lavender dress, looking beautiful but small against the sprawling velvet upholstery of the antique settee.She had arrived two days ago, having officially closed down her life in America. This time, she wasn’t a guest fleeing danger; she was relocating permanently, a
CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter 92: A NEW WORLD ORDER.
The War Room at the Volkov estate was a study in cold, efficient power. It was situated deep underground, soundproofed and shielded, a stark contrast to the luxurious warmth of our bedroom upstairs. A massive, central table made of smooth, dark wood dominated the space, currently displaying a projected, three-dimensional map of Europe, with key operational nodes highlighted in pulsing red and calming blue.I sat beside Vladimir, my posture straight, my presence a deliberate act of force. I was wearing an impeccably tailored black suit, not to mimic the men, but to assert equality. The silk whispered against my skin, a silent reminder of the power I had embraced last night.Vladimir was across from me, reviewing the final reports from the Genoa operation we launched at dawn. The morning had been flawless: the Spanish assets secured, the warehouse cleaned, and the political documents now digitized and awaiting Domenico’s swift action. The efficiency was breathtaking, a brutal ballet of
CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter 91: THE VOLKOV QUEEN.
The morning light, filtered through the thick, imported silk drapes, found us tangled in the deep center of the bed, the linens rumpled proof of the previous night’s desperate, confirming reunion. The room was warm, filled with the scent of spent passion and the profound, intoxicating reality of her safety.I woke first, as always, my internal clock refusing to recognize peace, even when it was finally achieved. I didn't move, unwilling to break the quiet perfection of the moment. Isabella was draped over me, her cheek resting against my chest, her breaths soft and even. Her hand, the one that had so tentatively reached for mine in the dark hospital room, was now securely fastened over my heart, a heavy, warm weight that felt like an unbreakable shield.I am a new man. I am the same monster, but the monster has a purpose greater than survival. She has rooted me. She has given me sons, an empire, and a reason to care about the dawn. I will never let that fire die again. I will feed it
CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter 90: THE SOFT TOUCH.
The hour was late, the kind of quiet hour that exists only in the deepest part of the Russian night, when the snow outside acts as a perfect blanket, muffling the world into submission. The only light in the sprawling bedroom came from the fireplace, casting dancing shadows across the high ceiling and warming the rich, dark woods of the furniture. It was the safest room in the world, secured by layers of glass, steel, and my own men, yet the security felt brittle, unable to guard against the emotional distance that still separated Isabella from me.She was resting, her back propped against the pillows, her profile illuminated by the flickering warmth of the fire. She wasn't asleep, but lost in the silent landscape of her thoughts. The physical trauma of the birth and the kidnapping had faded, leaving her skin pale but unmarked, her dark hair a beautiful, complex spill across the white linen. She looked like a princess in a fortress, beautiful and unattainable.I sat beside her on the
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