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Chapter 27: Tell me what?
publish date:
2026-06-17 09:20:31
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Claimed by havoc Chapter 37: Texas’s what?
Roxana The next morning, I wake up feeling strangely peaceful — no gunshots, no screaming, no blood. No terrifying mafia boss covered in someone's blood staring at me. Just sounds of birds chirping nearby and sunlight spilling through the window into the large bedroom. My gaze roams the room. It’s empty and bright. Then I stretch slowly, immediately regretting it as every muscle screams in protest. Apparently, emotional breakdowns are exhausting. After getting dressed, I head downstairs. The moment I step into the dining room, I know I’ve made a mistake. Every Kozlov is there, and each one turns to look at me. Texas grins, “Good morning, sunshine.” A warm smile forms on my lips. “Good morning.” Dmitry flashes an annoying and stupid smile at me. “Look who finally left Tristan’s room.” Heat rushes to my face, and the room bursts out laughing. “Oh my God.” Texas immediately points at me. “See, she’s blushing.” “I am not,” I argue. She taunts further, “You are.” I g
Claimed by havoc Chapter 36: My angel.
RoxanaI wake up slowly. At first, I don't know what pulls me from sleep. The room is dark, quiet, too quiet. Then I feel it—the strange sensation of being watched.My eyes blink open; for a second, everything is blurry. Then my gaze lands on a figure sitting in the chair across from the room.I freeze. A scream almost escapes me before I recognize him.Tristan.Relief crashes into me so suddenly that my eyes sting. He’s sitting lazily in the chair, watching, studying.The lamp beside him casts a soft glow over his face, leaving half of it hidden in shadow. His tattoos glow, creating beautiful patterns all over his body.How long has he been sitting there? The thought makes my stomach twist.His low voice rings through the room, rough, “You are awake.”I push myself up slowly. The blanket slides off my body, exposing my breasts to him. I cover immediately. Something hot burns within me as his gaze settles on my bare skin.Tristan says nothing, only stares.“Why are you sitting there?”
Claimed by havoc Chapter 35: Lorenzo Moretti.
Tristan The basement smells like blood, not fresh blood, old blood, the kind that has soaked through the concrete over the years and never truly left. I walked through the corridor without slowing down, behind me, Lucian, Viktor, and Nikolai follow in silence. Nobody tries to stop me anymore. Not after Roxana shoved me into the bed in front of the entire family. The memory should have annoyed me, instead, every time it surfaces, something suspiciously close to amusement follows. I push the thought away. I have other important things to focus on. The steel door at the end of the corridor opens, and the torture room comes into view. Three men are chained to metal chairs. A fourth body lay covered in blood on the floor. Dead. The survivor closest to the wall looks up as I enter. Fear immediately fills his eyes, good. “Boss.” Viktor steps forward. “Talk.” “We lost one during the night. “ I glance at the corpse, no reaction, the dead can't tell me what I ne
Claimed by havoc Chapter 34: Stupid man.
Roxana Dmitry bursts out laughing. "I don't know what just happened.” Texas elbows him. "Shut up.” "No, seriously,” he rubs his head. "Did she just push him?” Texas smiles brightly. "She did.” “She actually pushed him?" "Yes." "The Tristan?” Dmitry looks genuinely traumatized. Viktor sighs. "There is only one Tristan.” A laugh nearly escapes me. Tristan’s father pinches the bridge of his nose. His mother looks suspiciously pleased. Meanwhile, Tristan remains expressionless. And that somehow makes it worse. Finally, his father speaks. "Everybody out.” No one argues. Dmitry leaves first, mostly because Texas drags him. "She’s terrifying," he mutters as he’s leaving. "I can hear you.” "That proves my point.” The door closes behind them, and the room falls silent again. Only this time, there are no witnesses, no family members—just me and Tristan. Suddenly, my courage begins to evaporate. A few minutes ago, I was screaming at him. Now, I'm painfully aware I'm alone with
Claimed by havoc Chapter 33: You almost died.
Roxana The next morning, I wake up in the armchair beside Tristan’s bed. At some point during the night, I must have fallen asleep. My neck aches, my back hurts, and my hand is still wrapped around his. For a moment, I stare at him. The morning sunlight spills through the curtains, bathing the room in a soft golden glow. Tristan is still asleep; the harsh lines of his face seem softer, less dangerous, and almost peaceful. A knock sounds on the door, and before I can answer, Texas walks in carrying a tray. “Oh good, you are awake.” My cheeks heat instantly—had everyone noticed I spent the entire night here? Judging by Texas’s smile, definitely yes. A few minutes later, more people arrive: Dmitry, Lucian, Viktor, Nikolai, and Tristan’s parents. The bedroom slowly fills with people, everyone pretending not to be worried—everyone failing miserably. His mother sits on the edge of the bed. “He should wake up soon,” she says. Almost immediately, Tristan’s eyes flutter open
Claimed by havoc Chapter 32: You owe me.
Roxana Everything happens at once: someone begins shouting orders, more gunshots echo outside, and boots pound across the marble floor. But all I can see is blood—so much blood. It stains his white shirt, spreads across his shoulders, and drips onto the floor beneath him. “No, please, you can't do this to me.” My knees hit the ground beside him. Tristan’s eyes are closed; for the first time since I met him, he looks vulnerable. Human. Not the terrifying man who just slaughtered attackers with brutality, not the powerful head of the Kozlov family. Just a man—a man who got shot because of me. “Move, sweetheart,” his mother gently pulls me away. I don't even realize I'm crying until she wipes tears from my face. “ he needs space.” Right, of course. I force myself backward while Nikolai and Viktor lift him from the floor. The sight nearly destroys me—Tristan’s head hangs lightly, blood continues to soak through his shirt, and something ugly twists in my chest. Fear, pure and u
Claimed by havoc Chapter 29: I’m not jealous.
Roxana I stand by the door, watching them. Tristan stands near the window, and Carmen stands directly in front of him—too close, way too f*cking close, my hands ball into fists at my sides. Why is he staring at her like that? Like she means something, like she matters more than I do. Or mayb
Claimed by havoc Chapter 28: Tell me what?
Roxana “Tell me what?” I repeat. What the hell is she talking about? Tristan growls beside me, “ Carmen.” Then she shrugs like it’s no big deal, “What! I was just having a conversation with your wife.” Grinding his teeth, he says, “Why don't you get the f*ck and look for something else to do?”
Claimed by havoc Chapter 26: I’m scared.
Roxana “It’s not what you think,” I say, hoping somehow I can erase what happened a few minutes ago. Tristan watches me, the corner of his lips curls up a little and I almost faint. “ I see.” Scrambling off the bed, I adjust my clothes, run into the bathroom, and slam the door shut then place m
Claimed by havoc Chapter 24: There it is—the begging.
Tristan I enter the club and walk straight to the torture room, Marco is where i last saw him. More bloodied. More battered. Lucian appears and drops stacks of files on the table and leaves instantly. Leaving both of us alone. The room reeks of fear, blood, and desperation. A cruel smile paint
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