LOGINI met Oleg in junior school, and we clicked right away. Despite our fathers being rival mafia bosses, we never fell apart. But my feelings for Oleg changed with age. I felt frightened because I was torn between the comforts of friendship and the thrill of something more. My dad was very homophobic, so it was even more difficult to express how I felt. I was faced with wanting to be truthful but endangering our families’ fragile peace So, my feelings stayed hidden, and I was just happy to be with Oleg. Yet I couldn’t help but hope that Oleg would feel the same. Perhaps he was too scared to say anything. That hint of hope was what gave me the courage to take action. And I did but things went terribly wrong. our worlds collided and exploded. It left us with nothing but hatred and resentment between our families. If I could turn back time, I would be content with the friendship we once shared, not the hurt and anger which we now have. We parted ways with hatred in our hearts,a wound that never healed,years later,our path crossed again......
View MoreELVIS POV
I stood on the balcony of my penthouse, the glittering view of Montenegro stretched out before me. The city was alive with lights and movement, a masterpiece of modern elegance framed by ancient history. But tonight, I couldn’t appreciate its beauty. My mind was too preoccupied with memories I’d rather forget. It had been three years since I was forced to leave Russia—a place that was no longer my home. My departure had been swift, cold, and unforgiving. Montenegro had become my gilded cage, but the chains of my past still clung to me. I could vividly recall the disappointment on the faces of those I cared about. Especially *his* face. The hatred in his eyes, the venom in his words—they haunted me. *"Don’t you dare touch me again. The next time you do, I’ll break more than your jaw,"* he spat, his voice shaking with rage. *You disgust me*. You can’t even own up to your actions. You took me for a fool because I tried to let things go. But now? Now I see you for what you are—*a pathetic, selfish prick."* I tried to explain, but my voice broke under the weight of his fury. The ache in my cheek from his earlier punch was nothing compared to the sting of his next words. *"Don’t even try to speak. Your voice makes my skin crawl, and your words mean nothing to me anymore. But mark my words Elvis—what you did to me and my family, I’ll repay tenfold. You’d better stay hidden he said pointing towards me, Elvis. Stay well damn hidden, he repeated in a low dangerous voice because the next time I see you, it’ll be your blood on my hands. And that will be your last day on this earth. He stormed past me, his shoulder slamming into mine as I crumbled to the floor. Broken. Humiliated. A fool drowning in the consequences of my mistakes. The memory sent a chill down my spine. I shook my head, forcing the past back into the shadows where it belonged. Just then, Pavel, my bodyguard, appeared at the balcony door. “Young Boss, your friend is here to see you,” he said in his usual gruff tone. Pavel had been my bodyguard since childhood, though his loyalty always lay with my father. When I first arrived in Montenegro, my father’s orders turned Pavel into more of a jailer than a protector. Guards were everywhere—some visible, most not—watching my every move. My father had ensured I stayed isolated, especially from other men. Even my chance to explore my own sexuality was smothered by his control. But things had changed. After a heated confrontation with Pavel about his true loyality, he became less strict. Still, the expectations remained. I had to train, learn, and transform myself into the man who would one day inherit my father’s empire. The soft edges of my past—the so-called “feminine” demeanor my father detested—were sanded away with boxing, a strict diet, and relentless discipline. “Let him in,” I said, dismissing Pavel without turning around. Minutes later, a knock sounded at the door. Leo stepped inside and walked out onto the balcony, greeting me with his usual carefree energy. “Hey, man, what’s up?” He flopped onto the sofa, stretching out like he owned the place. I joined him, sinking into the seat opposite. My head tilted back, eyes on the ceiling as I sighed. “You good?” Leo asked, breaking the silence. “I’m fine,” I replied, though my frown betrayed me. “Had a fight with Pavel?” he teased, smirking. I raised an eyebrow, silently marveling at how little Leo knew about my real life. To him, Pavel and my other bodyguard, Losif, were just my brothers. It had been a lie Leo unknowingly came up with during his first visit, making it easier for me to go along with it. I hadn’t bothered to correct him about who I really was—after all, we were supposed to be in hiding. To Leo, we were just rich kids with absent parents. Our carefully curated normalcy—simple clothes, casual demeanors—kept the truth buried. “So,” Leo said, his grin widening, “what brings you out of your brooding today?” I rolled my eyes. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” “Ouch. Why do I feel like you’re already kicking me out?” Leo laughed, standing up and heading inside to my bar. I followed, rubbing my temples as he poured himself a drink. You shouldn’t be drinking you are underage,” I said flatly, leaning against the counter. “Says the guy with a bar full of alcohol and no restriction for someone just as underage as me,” Leo retorted, raising an eyebrow. “They’re not mine,” I lied. “They’re my brothers’. “Right,” he said, taking a sip. “Keep telling yourself that.” besides we are almost 18 and that part wasn't a lie. like you haven't been drinking before, i rolled my eyes, ignoring him, choosing instead to focus on the dull ache forming behind my eyes “Leo set his glass down and turned to me, his expression suddenly serious. “There’s a party tonight,” he said. “One of our classmates is hosting it. You should come.” “I’m not interested,” I replied immediately. “Come on, Elvis. It’s our last year of school. You barely know anyone besides me and Noah. Don’t you want to live a little?” I stiffened at his words. *Live a little.* The last time I tried to live, everything I cared about fell apart. I’d learned my lesson. No friends, no risks. Leo might think we were close, but I kept him at arm’s length for his own safety. Getting too close to me was a death sentence, and I’d already destroyed enough lives. “I’m not going,” I said, my tone final. Without another word, I turned and walked to my room, leaving Leo sighing behind me.LOSIF POVIt took hours of exhausting arguing before we finally agreed on my idea. At the same time, Pavel quietly mapped out the plan, orchestrating every detail like a strategist moving pieces across a board.We were now inside Oleg Petrov’s perimeter.One by one, we climbed out of the cars, hidden beneath our disguises. That alone should have shaken me to my core, given the expectation of being watched, but instead, there was barely any attention, apart from the usual deference owed to the wealthy. Beyond the first checkpoint, slipping inside had been almost laughably easy. I muttered curses under my breath at the blatant pointlessness of this plan I’d dreamed up, especially as I wrestled with the absurd, ankle-length grey bisht, which seemed determined to trip me at every step, as if deciding whether today would be the day I face-planted.Worst of all, my shoulder-length shemagh scarf swallowed half my face in the name of secrecy, trapping heat and turning every breath into a stru
LOSIF POVPavel remained stationed in front of me, the binoculars never leaving his face, his actions caught in a looping rhythm as he lifted, refocused, and sighed over and over, his knuckles paling with each adjustment as he scanned the private grounds from afar, as if sheer persistence could force Elvis to appear. I mirrored his movements every time he shifted, the sun scorching my skin.At last, his broad shoulders sagged in defeat. With a frustrated exhale, he lowered the binoculars and stalked toward the line of cars parked along the hill overlooking the Petrov estate.“What do you have?” he ordered at the guards hunched over the map spread across the car trunk.One of them shook his head. “Only the outer perimeter, sir. The maps are useless. They show just the outer walls and the surrounding paths are… complicated.”“We’re not getting anywhere if the plan is waiting for Elvis to stroll out and wave,” Anton snarled. He slid his phone aside, and I saw Luca’s name disappear from t
OLEG POVI slid into my usual place at the head of the table and watched Elvis stroll in with that sluggish, half-alive gait that grated on my tolerance even before we came into the dining room. He didn’t so much as glance at the seats near me, “not the second, not the third, not the fourth.”No, he crossed the entire length of the table and went straight for the chair at the far end, planting himself as far from me as he could get.My jaw ticked. I jabbed at the seat beside me. “Get over here.”He pivoted without protest and settled stiffly into the seat beside me, eyes glued on the plates before us, stubbornly refusing to meet mine as they normally did.I tipped my chin at one of my men.“Before or after we eat, we’ll be receiving a visitor. They’ll come in search of our alleged ‘guest’. I cut a glance at Elvis, still sitting exactly as before—"claiming to be detectives searching for what isn’t lost. If they show up with a warrant—which I’m sure they will—let them in. But you tell m
ELVIS POVThe door slammed behind Oleg, and the room finally loosened what had been strangling me. Only then did I become aware of the tremor running through my body. My knees gave way, and I hit the floor before I even realized I was falling.“Already down?” Oleg drawled. “We haven’t even warmed up. On your feet.”I forced myself upright and shut my eyes tight, trying to block it out, yet the imprint of his hand on my head and the suffocating darkness of life almost squeezed out of me yanked them back open.Walking with him stalking my back, the question settled in my mind. He’d been seconds from letting them open me up. Would he have truly let them?My arms clamped around myself, fingers digging into my skin until pain flared. A sick rush of nostalgia punched through my chest—proof of exactly what I’d always been to everyone: the boy who wasn’t supposed to break… yet always did.I still didn’t know where the scraps of strength to even fight back in that room had come from. One momen
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