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Her Neglected Scars
Last Updated : 2026-10-17
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Russia, the only place where sex and guns could ever taste so sweet—my exact nightmare. The only thing I’m here for is to grind my body over shady politicians for my father’s schemes. I’d be more than willing to do so if it meant I’d pull my mother and myself out of his chains and start a new life. I was so close, so damn close—until he came . . . very much unannounced. Konstantin Morozov, the man I am going to be married off to. Russia’s ruthless beast— earning his crown with bloodied hands. With this, I only had to face two challenges: infiltrate his notorious business as per father’s order and divorce him when the time is right. But dealing with a husband who has a Morozov as his last name was never easy, especially with a gun pointed at my head, and those rough, cruel hands wrapped around my heart. I wonder which blows up first?
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Her Neglected Scars EIGHTY-EIGHT: A Spy. A Liar. A Bennington
I turn on my heel, the silver tray shaking in my grip. I’m ready to walk away and swallow my own stupidity.Before I can take two steps, a junior maid rushing past the corner with a stack of linens slams into my shoulder.CRASH!The tray slips from my fingers. The bowl shatters against the hardwood. Scalding broth splashes up, soaking my sweater and searing the skin of my bandaged wrist.“Ah!” I gasp, jerking my hand back as a hiss of pain escapes my teeth.The maid stumbles back and glances at the puddle at her feet. She doesn’t look panicked. She looks annoyed.She looks up at me, her mouth twisting into a sneer.“Oops,” she says, her voice flat with fake regret. “So clumsy of me. Sorry, barishnya.”“It’s fine,” I choke out, pressing my burned wrist against my stomach, blinking back the sting of tears.“What is all this commotion out here?”Irina’s voice floats out from the office doorway.Before I can bend down to pick up the pieces, she appears in the frame, her eyes wide with the
Last Updated : 2026-10-17Her Neglected Scars EIGHTY-SEVEN: A Bowl of Beef Soup
“Konstantin?”My voice comes out as a dry, cracked rasp. It bounces off the plaster walls of the master bedroom.Silence answers me. No boots on the floorboards. No deep voice telling me to stay still.I push myself up onto my elbows and wince. A sharp ache shoots through my lower back and thighs, a reminder of every hour we spent tangled in these sheets.I reach across the wrinkled cotton. My fingers find empty space.The sheets are cold where his body was radiating heat only hours ago.I check the clock on the nightstand. Past nine. He’s been gone for hours.I slip out of bed, my bare feet hitting the hardwood. A black dress shirt lies on the floor near the dresser, the one he wore before we tore it apart.I pick it up and press my face into the collar. Woodsmoke. Amber whiskey. Rain. And him.A small, foolish smile tugs at my chapped lips.He stayed, I tell myself. Last night meant something. He was drunk, yes, but he came back to me. He held me.Once he’s sober, I can tell him eve
Last Updated : 2026-10-11Her Neglected Scars EIGHTY-SIX: Konstantin?
Konstantin tilts his head, his dark eyes narrowing as he lets out a heavy, drunken breath.He doesn’t move.He just watches me with that predatory, dangerous stare as I reach down with trembling hands and unbuckle his heavy leather belt.CLINK.I pull the strap through the loops, pop the metallic button of his trousers, and pull his zipper down.I slide his dark boxers lower, and his massive, thick cock snaps free against his lower abdomen, slick at the tip, dark veins throbbing along the length of his shaft.I slide down off the pillows, kneeling between his spread knees on the bed.I wrap my small hand around his thick base, my thumb smearing the clear pre-cum over his wide head.Konstantin lets out a low, ragged curse, his head falling back against the headboard, his dark jaw clenched so tight the tendons in his neck stand out like steel cables.“Fucking hell, Evangeline . . .”I bend down and wrap my lips around the head of his cock, taking him deep into my mouth.“Ah, blyat!” Kon
Last Updated : 2026-10-02Her Neglected Scars EIGHTY-FIVE: Let Me Do You
“Why did you betray me like they did . . . moya dusha?”The question hangs heavy in the space between our mouths, thick with the sharp stench of expensive scotch and raw, bleeding hurt.Konstantin’s dark eyes burn into mine, completely wide and wrecked.His fingers tighten in my hair, pulling my scalp just enough to make my eyes water.“Konstantin, stop,” I breathe out, planting my palms flat against his burning chest.I push against the heavy muscle of his shoulders, trying to create even an inch of space.“Let me up. You’re fucking plastered. You don’t know what you’re saying right now. Just listen to me for once—““I listened to you for months,” he growls out, his voice a low, gravelly rasp against my throat.“I listened while you lied to my face in my own bed.”“I was trying to save my mother!” I shout into his face, the words tearing out of my chest like jagged glass.“I didn’t—“ He cuts me off before I can finish the sentence. His mouth slams down onto mine with brutal, desperat
Last Updated : 2026-10-02Her Neglected Scars FOUR: Tears, Tea, Trouble
Staring down danger over a tea party is a great reminder that life loves throwing curveballs when you’re least prepared. But on the bright side, I think I’m finally sure he’s six-foot five.I swallow the lump in my throat as those muddy, red eyes penetrated through my very being, sending electricit
Her Neglected Scars THREE: Poisoned Gazes
Whip burns and brotherly love: because one form of torture just isn’t enough. The room was heavy with unspoken tension as my brother gently applied the salve on the wounds on my back, his touch lingering a bit too long.I asked for the maids, but I guess they, too, were far too afraid to go agains
Her Neglected Scars TWO: To Punish the Brave One
When you dig your own grave, you better be ready to lie in it, but damn, this is one deep hole.Bloody pupils that look and feel like it’s seen murderous things penetrated right through the small slats of the closet. He doesn’t move, nor does he stray his eyes away from mine. Instead, his lips, ca
Her Neglected Scars ONE: Marrying To My Doom
I’m getting married to Konstantin Morozov, the merciless billionaire crowned as the bloodthirsty King in all of Russia, or in other words, my life is going to end today.A stark difference to the dark cell I thought it would be ending, but instead it’s here—in this beautiful church adorned with flo
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