ログインTristan The room falls into silence. Only the rain remains; it batters against the window, the roof, whatever is left of my sanity. The front door slams shut behind Dmitry; his voice disappears into the hallway. Now, it’s only her, the woman I crossed continents to find. Just us. She stands there trembling, red eyes, tear-stained cheeks— the same face I spent weeks imagining covered in blood. The same woman I nearly burned the world down for. I stare at her. She can't even meet my eyes. “Tristan….” My name. God. She still says my name the same way, as if nothing happened, as if she didn't disappear or that I didn't find another man holding her. “Please….” Her voice shakes so badly it barely sounds like hers. “I'm sorry.” I laugh—a quiet, empty, hopeless laugh. “Sorry?” She nods frantically, “Yes, I'm sorry.” “You are sorry.” Another laugh escapes me, this one broken. “So that’s it?” She takes another careful step toward me. “I can explain.” “No.” “I made a m
Roxana The gunshot tears through the apartment, and the sound is so deafening that my ears ring instantly. I scream, “Daniel!” He doesn't answer. For one horrifying second, I think he’s dead. Then he blinks slowly, confused. My gaze shifts past him. A jagged hole has been blasted into the wall inches above where his head had been. White plaster rains onto the floor. The bullet… missed. My knees nearly give out. A broken sob escapes from my throat before I can stop it. Tristan never intended to kill him. The realization should comfort me, but instead, it terrifies me more. Because it means every second from now on is a choice—a choice Tristan can change whenever he wants. Daniel slowly raises a trembling hand to his face; his fingers brush his temple—dust, tiny fragments of broken wall—nothing else. His breathing becomes uneven. He finally understands the kind of man Tristan is: this is not just an angry husband throwing a tantrum; he’s a man who can pull the trigger, and
Roxana Tristan. The name alone steals every ounce of air from my lungs. Panic crashes into me so hard that my stomach twists violently, and I almost give out. My body reacts before my mind does. I wrench myself away from Daniel as if his hands burn me. Hurt flashes in his eyes, but my focus is on the man standing by the doorway. Rainwater drips from Tristan’s black hair onto the wooden floor. His clothes cling to his body. His chest rises and falls as he stares at me. Anger shimmers in the depths of his green eyes. “It’s... it’s not what you think.” My shaky legs dart forward, straight to him. But he steps away, as if he can't stand the thought of getting close to me. Something inside my chest shatters. “I searched for you, tore the world apart to get to you, and you were here? With him?” I shake my head, no. Please. He takes one single step forward, and I instinctively step back. “Hiding, trying to become someone else. Why? Because everything I gave to you was
RoxanaDaniel doesn't move. His eyes shift from Marco to the suited man behind him, then back to me. “Why did you lie to me?”My heart sinks. The rain pounds harder against the roof. Nobody breathes; silence stretches uncomfortably.Marco is the first to smile, smooth and relaxed—like he always is when deceiving people. “You must be Daniel.”Daniel’s brows knit together. “Do I know you?”Marco extends a hand as if they’ve met a hundred times before. “I'm Marco.”Daniel doesn't take it, instead keeps looking at me. “Roxana?”I can't answer. If I tell him the truth, Marco will call Tristan. If I lie, Daniel will walk away believing everything is fine.Marco notices my hesitation. Without anyone seeing, he lightly presses two fingers against the back of my neck—warning me.“Roxana invited me.” The lie sounds effortless.Daniel looks unconvinced. “You never mentioned family.”“I’m…,” he chuckles softly, “not exactly family. I knew her mother years ago.”My stomach twists. That’s another l
RoxanaThe knock echoes through the room, making my body jerk involuntarily. I stare at the door, my heart pounding against my ribs. No one moves.Marco’s eyes shift toward the door; the man in the suit instinctively reaches beneath his jacket.My breathing halts. No. This can't be happening.“Roxana.”Daniel.His voice is muffled through the thin wooden door. “Are you alright?”Marco slowly turns to look at me, his expression speaking volumes.“Get rid of him. Now,” he whispers into my ear.I swallow the lump in my throat.For a terrifying second, I almost scream at him to call for help. But I know Marco, stuff like that won't bother him.I’d probably end up getting hurt more than I should.While I stand there, I consider screaming at him to run. I don't want to risk innocent lives. Maybe if he runs far enough, they won't catch him.Maybe...Marco’s fingers tighten painfully around my wrist. I almost flinch, but I stay rooted.His lips barely move. “One wrong word...” his gaze drifts
Roxana My chest tightens so painfully it hurts. The room feels both suffocating and hot—too full of him. Marco watches me with the patience of a man who already believes he has won. He no longer needs to shout. He no longer needs to threaten me. He has already destroyed the one thing keeping me alive. The lie. The lie that Tristan had bought me. The lie I clung to because hating him was easier than admitting I loved him. My knees threaten to give way again, and I grip the edge of the bed until my knuckles turn white. “You lied to me…you deceived me,” the words escape my mouth like a broken whisper. Marco shrugs, “I did.” “So many lives,” my voice cracks, “you destroyed so many lives…” His brow raises with nonchalance, “and?” Marco’s indifference makes something inside me splinter. I press my teeth against my lip so hard that it takes every ounce of self-control not to spit in his disgusting face. “You don't even care,” I mutter under my breath. “I care about winning,” his
RoxanaI step out of the room, the paper feeling like a ticking time bomb in my hand. How on earth has my life become this? Hot tears streak my cheeks as I think of Aaron. He loves me, and getting married to Tristan would crush him. What am I going to do now? A lump forms in my throat, and I swa
RoxanaIs something wrong with my eyes? Or is what I'm seeing real?I stare down at the paper in front of me, blinking a few times.This can't be real. There's no way I'm getting married to Tristan Kozlov—the ruthless and dangerous first son of the Kozlov Russian mafia. I know my stepfather is try
Tristan My phone buzzes, waking me. I ignore it, opening my eyes for a moment and staring into the blank space. It buzzes again. This time, I stretch my hand to the bedside drawer and pick it up. There are several texts from my brothers, my mother, and all the family members. *We are in your li
RoxanaI keep turning on my bed, Aaron’s words replaying in my head. I have to leave this house tonight. That’s the only way I can escape this arranged marriage and be with the man who truly loves me.Checking the time for the hundredth time today, I get out of bed.It’s 6pm.Almost dinnertime.Onc







