So this book is kind of revolving around one topic it seems🤪 Hope you don't mind that😉
“You need an heir, Pakhan,” Alecsandr Patrova said, his tone condescending as his prudent eyebrows drew together in heavy disapproval. His wrinkled face bore the weight of arrogance, his voice slithering into the air like poison. “As of this moment, you’re not even married. How can you hope to solidify your leadership if you cannot even keep a woman?”My grip tightened around the champagne glass until the delicate crystal creaked beneath my hand. The veins in my wrist strained, the other hand curling into a fist so tight my nails bit into my palm. “I have a woman, Patrova,” I seethed, every word laced with venom, my voice low enough to warn him he was treading into dangerous territory.“If you have a woman, why is it not your wedding we’re attending tonight?” he countered, his sharp eyes narrowing as he pushed further. The men gathered around shifted uneasily, glancing between us as though waiting for an execution to unfold before their eyes. “Your sister is married before you, and sh
I stepped back, my fingers slipping away from the last button on her gown, and for a moment I just let myself take her in. My best friend. The woman who had been at my side for three years, the one who had laughed with me, cried with me, kept me sane when everything else threatened to tear me apart. Now she was the one standing in front of me, ready to walk down the aisle in a matter of moments, about to bind herself to a man for life. A man she barely knew. A man she had convinced herself was right for her.And yet, despite everything, she was smiling. She didn’t look weighed down by doubt or fear the way I had felt only weeks ago, when my own world had shattered and rebuilt itself in ways I still didn’t understand. She looked light, radiant even, as though all the darkness that pressed down on the rest of us had never even brushed against her shoulders.“You look beautiful, Ana,” I whispered, the words tumbling from my lips before I could even think to shape them. And it wasn’t just
My eyes widened as Damien stood, immediately moving over to the bed with a kind of silent determination that made every nerve inside me tense. I turned around in my chair, watching as his hands went behind his broad back. He gripped the hem of his black t-shirt and, with one fluid movement, pulled it up and over his head.The fabric dropped to the floor with a whisper, but the sound might as well have been a thunderclap to my ears.Scars. So many scars.My breath caught.They littered every inch of his back—long jagged ones that slashed across his pale skin like old battle wounds, short rounded ones like healed-over bullet holes or burns, and thin, razor-fine lines that shimmered slightly beneath the overhead light. There wasn’t a single stretch of untouched skin. His entire back told a story, one I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear.“Are you—” I started, but stopped abruptly. My throat tightened. “I thought&
I opened the door, forcing myself to take it slow, restraining the urge to burst into the room the way every muscle in my body demanded.She was here. Lillian was actually here. Under my roof. Needing me. Needing my protection, my care, my strength.And she would get it. She would get everything.Once she became my wife, there would be nothing left for her to want. Not safety, not warmth, not love. I would give her a world where nothing touched her without going through me first.I stepped inside, my eyes locking on her immediately. She was sitting on the bed, her wide, blue eyes frozen on me, like she wasn’t sure whether to scream or run. That flicker of fear, that flash of uncertainty, I could take it. She’d get used to me—she’d learn I was never a danger to her.While I’d been spending years quietly building my obsession, feeding my desire with fantasies and stolen glance
Jeremy and I were on our way back from the docks, and it had been a fucking bloodbath out there. The kind that twists your stomach, that coats your lungs with the taste of iron and fury. Our men had been slaughtered, torn apart with what could only have been a knife. Nothing else left wounds like that—deep, cruel, personal. It wasn’t gunfire. It wasn’t tactical. It was savage.And it wasn’t just the method—it was the intent that twisted my gut. This didn’t feel like a hit, like someone searching our premises or trying to send a quiet message. We’d had that before. Bratva bastards poking around our territory, trying to sniff out weaknesses or intel. But this? This wasn’t reconnaissance. This was carnage. Pure, unfiltered violence.Nothing had been moved. Nothing was missing. The papers were untouched, the cash drawer still sealed, even the encrypted drives left where they sat.Whoever had done this
The door creaked open again, and I quickly wiped at my cheeks, smudging away the tears that clung to my skin like betrayal. I didn’t want anyone to see me like that—vulnerable, lost, stripped bare by the weight of everything I couldn’t control. I tried to erase any trace of sadness from my expression, forcing my breath to even out.My fingers reached beneath the edge of the mattress, gently sliding the ring under it—the one Dante had given me, the one that still shimmered like a promise I wasn’t sure I deserved anymore. I tucked it away as if I could protect it, as if hiding it could protect him, protect us. I couldn’t risk someone finding it. I couldn’t risk someone taking it.“Lil?!”My head shot up, and my gaze collided with Ana’s. Her eyes were wide, frantic, filling with something I couldn’t quite name before her entire face broke open into a smile that stretched from cheek