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CXL : Love, Power, and the Strings Attached [Flashback]
Last Updated:
2025-03-31 05:22:12
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His Son, Her Secret CXLI : Brother Knows Best, Or So He Thinks. [Flashback]
After a while, the sound of a motorcycle engine could be heard from outside. Miranda peeked out the kitchen window and grinned. “That must be handsome Ben. I don’t know why you don’t bring him here more often.” I just shook my head slightly, a small smile on my face. Moments later, the front door opened, and Ben walked in with his signature leather jacket. His hair was slightly tousled by the wind. “Hey!” Ben greeted, taking off his jacket and hanging it behind the door. “You made it,” Uncle Diego said, giving him a proud pat on the back. “I wouldn’t miss Aunt Herna’s cooking,” Ben replied with a wide smile. He glanced at me and ruffled my hair. “Hey, smart girl. You haven’t changed.” I snorted and swatted his hand away. “Coming in all heroic again?” Ben just shrugged nonchalantly. “Of course. I’m always cool.” When Aunt Herna asked us to set the table, Ben immediately took charge of carrying the large platter of roasted meat. Miranda scoffed, eyeing his arms. “Showing off your
Last Updated : 2025-03-31His Son, Her Secret CXLII : Chasing Me, Catching Me, Keeping Me [Flashback]
The atmosphere at Logan Airport in Boston was filled with the typical holiday rush. The high glass ceiling reflected the afternoon sun, casting a golden glow on the polished marble floors. I dragged my heavy suitcase behind me, letting out a long sigh. Coming back early from my summer vacation had been a sudden decision, but the pressure and constant supervision at home in Bogota—especially from Dad—made me feel like I needed as much distance as possible.Even though returning early felt strange, warmth spread through me when I saw the tall, broad-shouldered figure standing near the arrival area. His dark hair was a bit messy, his black leather jacket clung to his athletic frame, paired with dark jeans and rugged boots, giving off an irresistible mix of charm and danger. His sunglasses sat casually on his nose, but the playful smirk on his lips told me exactly who it was.Pascha Romanov, the guy who could make my heart race and give me a headache at the same time.Before I could say a
Last Updated : 2025-03-31His Son, Her Secret CXLIII : Tamed? In Your Dreams, Darling
As soon as the car stopped in front of my flat, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I practically jumped out before Pascha even turned off the engine, dragging my suitcase to the front door. "I missed my bed!" I yelled enthusiastically. Behind me, Pascha just scoffed, grabbing his jacket and following me with a lazy stride. "Of course," he muttered. "I’m the one you see first after we apart, but the thing you missed most is your bed. Annoying." I ignored him. After punching in the door code and pushing it open, I rushed inside, dropped my bag on the floor, and nearly threw myself onto the bed—except Pascha beat me to it. He casually tossed his jacket onto the couch and walked straight to my bed, dropping onto it with a smug, victorious expression. "Pascha, move," I hissed, glaring at him. He looked at me lazily, raising one eyebrow. "No." I groaned in frustration but eventually just flopped onto the bed too, shoving his shoulder to make some space. "Don’t touch me," I muttered when
Last Updated : 2025-03-31His Son, Her Secret CXLIV : Moscow Sounds Like Trouble (So Do You) [Flashback]
"I missed you," he whispered, his deep, raspy voice vibrating the air between us. I bit my lower lip, trying hard not to smile. "Then stop making me mad." "I can’t promise that," he replied with a mischievous smirk before leaning down to gently kiss my forehead. I closed my eyes, letting out a long sigh. Pascha always had this infuriating yet comforting way of making me both angry and at peace at the same time—a combination that was both annoying and heartwarming. The night stretched on, and we kept talking, laughter and complaints blending into a long, seemingly endless conversation. Slowly, my eyelids grew heavy.I inched closer to Pascha, letting his arm wrap around me as his warmth surrounded me in a rare feeling of comfort. :::: For the first time in weeks, I felt genuinely at peace. The morning in Cambridge was chilly, even with the sun hanging low in the sky. Dew still clung to the apartment windows, leaving blurry wet streaks. I stood in my small kitchen, staring at a s
Last Updated : 2025-03-31His Son, Her Secret CXLV : He Smirks, The City Glows, & I'm in Too Deep [Flashback]
The sight of the Romanov family's private airport froze me in place. A warm summer breeze brushed against my face, but it was nothing compared to the gleaming private jet shining under the sun. The jet's sleek black paint bore the Romanov family emblem on the tail—an elegant symbol with gold accents that screamed power and luxury."Wow," I whispered, probably for the fifth time in the past ten minutes. My eyes couldn't tear away from every detail of the jet, the aerodynamic lines, the dominating grandeur, and the bold, graceful lettering of the family name etched on the side.Standing beside me with his hands casually tucked into his black pants pockets, Pascha let out an amused snort at my repeated reaction."It's just a plane, Bee," he said nonchalantly, as if the magnificent thing was just a toy.I glanced at him, giving him a pointed look. "Just a plane?" I echoed in disbelief. "It's bigger than my apartment!"He shrugged without a hint of guilt. "You haven't seen the inside yet."
Last Updated : 2025-03-31His Son, Her Secret CXLVI : The Scent of Roses, The Sound of Power [Flashback]
In front of the massive entrance, with towering marble pillars, stood two figures who immediately captured my attention. A tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair that was starting to gray at the temples, his face stern with sharp, chiseled lines.My chest and throat tightened instantly. Pascha’s parents. Alexandr Romanov and Natalia Romanova.Their names carried a weight of history, almost legendary in the realms of international business and politics. Just one glance at them, and I could feel the power and dominance radiating from their composed presence. A sudden wave of tension washed over me, and I found myself clutching the hem of my skirt.“Relax,” Pascha whispered beside me, his large hand reaching out to pat my thigh reassuringly. “They’re not as bad as you think.”I shot him a suspicious look. “Not as bad?” I echoed quietly. “Did you forget all those stories about their strict discipline and rigid rules?”Pascha shrugged nonchalantly. “They’re softer when it comes to guest
Last Updated : 2025-03-31His Son, Her Secret CXLVII : Siberian Summers & City-Born Hearts [Flashback]
Lunch at the Romanov household felt more like a grand family feast than just an ordinary meal. The long dining table was covered with mouth-watering dishes—thick black bread with butter, deep purple-red borscht, salads with diced beets and potatoes, and large platters of roasted meat, their savory aroma filling the room. Everything was arranged neatly on a spotless white tablecloth, with crystal glasses gleaming under the luxurious chandelier.I sat next to Pascha, who looked more relaxed than usual, while Igor sat across from me, chewing his food with the focus of a soldier on a covert mission. At the head of the table sat Alexandr, moving his fork with graceful precision, observing the scene with sharp yet affectionate eyes. Natalia was beside him, her slender fingers delicately stirring her soup as she smiled softly.However, the peaceful lunch almost immediately unraveled when Trisha started talking.“I’m telling you, we have to go to the Riviera! Beaches, cocktails, yacht parties
Last Updated : 2025-03-31His Son, Her Secret CXLVIII : Luxury Left Us at the Gate [Flashback]
The Romanov family's private jet was way bigger than I had imagined. The interior felt like a floating penthouse, complete with white leather sofas, thick cream-colored carpets, and large windows offering an endless view of the blue sky. There was a spacious seating area with a polished wooden table and a minibar filled with crystal glasses and high-end liquor bottles.I sat on one of the sofas near the window while Trisha sat beside me, hugging a pillow with a grumpy face. From the other end of the room, I could hear Pascha and Igor’s muffled voices, seemingly arguing about something I couldn't quite grasp."I can't believe we're actually going to Siberia," Trisha grumbled, burying her face in the pillow. "I packed summer clothes, cute dresses, and now we're going to end up in the middle of a forest with wolves and—what was it again? Taiga man?"I chuckled, resisting the urge to tease her more. "You could still wear those dresses in the woods. Maybe the bears would appreciate your fa
Last Updated : 2025-03-31
Latest chapter
His Son, Her Secret CXI : Whispers of the Past
I came down the stairs at seven a.m., my steps slow on the oak wood that felt too expensive—and far too quiet—for the storm inside my chest. The sound of waves drifted in from afar through a slightly cracked window, filling the air with sea salt and cool mist. Morning light slipped softly into the living room, brushing over thick rugs and cream velvet couches that looked like they belonged in an architecture magazine.The Romanov villa in Carmel… was too perfect.Too still.And for the first time since last night, I was thankful for that.No heavy footsteps on the floor.No clinking glasses.No low voice saying my name in that way that short-circuited my entire nervous system.No Pascha.I let out a quiet sigh—half relief, half disbelief. I wasn’t ready this morning. Not for his stare. Too honest. Too lit. Too full of history.I made my way to the kitchen. The interior looked like something out of another world—gray marble counters veined with white like paintings, dark wood cabinets
His Son, Her Secret CXC : Warmth, Ruin & Tart Guardian
His embrace felt like the world I almost left behind—warm, stubborn, and heavy with the shadows of our past.But I couldn’t breathe.Not because he was holding me too tightly, but because my mind was too full. Too loud. Too much to process all at once.I pressed my hand gently against his chest. One small push. Then another, firmer.Pascha let go slowly, but his gray eyes stayed locked on me like he was afraid I’d vanish if he blinked.I took two steps back, holding in a breath that burned like embers in my chest.“I need some time alone,” I said softly.Pascha frowned but didn’t speak.“Another room. In this villa. I know this place is huge—too huge. You can sleep wherever you want. But I need space. I need… somewhere that isn’t you.”My voice nearly cracked, but I forced it to hold.He didn’t answer right away. He just looked at me, and I could see something stirring inside him. Not anger. Not guilt.But love—raw and unsure of what shape to take in a moment like this.Then he steppe
His Son, Her Secret CLXXXIX : the page i didn’t read
I fell silent.The only sound was the faucet still running, water hitting the metal sink like a downpour in the middle of silence.That sentence echoed in my head."You're my wife, Bee."I blinked.Once.Twice.Then the world started to spin.Not the usual kind of dizziness, not a migraine from lack of sleep or too much caffeine. This was... like my logic was twisted, crushed, and thrown off the highest cliff without warning.My heart started pounding—not from emotion, but because my brain couldn’t process something this big… this absurd… this Pascha.I took a step back.Then another.My hand reached for the cold edge of the kitchen counter, gripping it just to stay upright.“What... did you just say?” I whispered, even though I’d heard him. Too clearly.He just looked at me, eyes steady, shoulders still slightly leaning forward like a man who just dropped a bomb in the middle of a city and was waiting to see if there’d be an explosion.I laughed.It was dry. Empty. The laugh of someo
His Son, Her Secret CLXXXVIII : What Remains of Us
The cold air hit my skin like a slap of reality.I stared at my reflection in the villa’s bathroom mirror—cream marble walls too smooth to be real, warm lighting that made my swollen eyes look softer, and a wide sink with a bottle of liquid soap that probably cost more than my shoes.But my face... was still the same.Tired eyes. Cracked lips. Unsteady breath.I wiped my cheek with a white towel—clean, lavender-scented—then looked at myself again.“This is the end,” I said quietly.My own voice sounded unfamiliar. But steady.“It has to end. Tonight.”I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling the front pieces back and tying them at the back of my head with a small band I found in my bag. The rest of my short hair fell around my neck—light, out of the way. Practical. Sharp. Just like my intention for tonight.I looked down at my wrinkled sweater—sage green, a color I used to love, now feeling like a burden. My jeans itched too, dusty from the car ride and too much heat from earlier ang
His Son, Her Secret CLXXXVII : how dare the sun still set
“I hate you.”That was the first thing I said after the car crossed the gate and turned onto the main road. My voice cracked. My breathing was still uneven. One hand clutched the seatbelt, the other trembled in my lap.“You think this is funny? Bringing her into your house? Around Max?!”Pascha stayed silent. His left hand rested calmly on the wheel, the right on the gearshift. His eyes were locked on the road like there wasn’t a storm sitting right next to him.“You really don’t realize what a bastard you are, do you?”Still no response.“You’re insane. You’re.....you’re the most selfish person I’ve ever met! You showed up at my house bleeding, crawled into my bed. MY BED, and the next day you brought her to your house?!”Still nothing. The car kept rolling forward, eating up pavement in a steady rhythm.“And you let Max laugh with her? Sit next to her? What.....what’s next, he calls her ‘Mommy’? Is that it? That your plan? To replace me? Hand her the title?”No answer.I turned to h
His Son, Her Secret CLX : Mirrorball Shattered Mid-Spin
The car hadn’t even come to a full stop in the carport when I opened the door."Bell—"I heard Kyara’s voice from behind me, but I didn’t look back. My steps were fast. Hot. Loud.Every heel strike against the stone path between my house and Pascha’s mansion felt like a tiny hammer, fueling my anger higher and higher. I knew he was there. I knew Max was there. And I knew that snake of a woman was there too, sitting pretty in the living room, playing a role so well even the devil would applaud her performance.Aurora was close behind me, her steps quick but cautious. I could feel her breath. Short and startled. But nothing could stop me now.The mansion door opened. Clara stood in the doorway, her expression confused and wary when she saw me. But I didn’t stop.“Where’s Max?” I asked flatly.“In the back room… playing with synthetic sand and Mischa,” Clara whispered.I didn’t say anything else. No need. I walked inside.And there she was.Her.Mikaela.Sitting on Pascha’s way-too-soft,
His Son, Her Secret CLXXXV : I Saw Red
I tapped the green button on my phone and held it to my ear.Three rings.Four.No answer.I frowned, pulled the phone away, and stared at the name on the screen: Ben (my favorite idiot twin). I called again.Ringing.Still no answer. No message.He usually lets me know if there’s a change of plans. Even when he's stuck in a board meeting in L.A., he still manages to send me a photo of a whiteboard covered in scribbles with a caption like, “Does anyone understand this? 'Cause I don't.”But now?Silence.I sighed, slipped the phone into my bag, and pushed the office door open with my shoulder. My actual office—not Romanov International. I’d had enough of Russians playing dress-up as CEOs.This office lobby was nothing fancy. Modern, but human. No marble, no echoing high heels that felt like judgment. Just the smell of fresh coffee, soft lighting, and polite smiles from Ellie the receptionist who talked way too much about her cats.“Good morning, Ms. Belva,” Ellie greeted.I gave a quic
His Son, Her Secret CLXXXIV : hit the pedal, heavy metal, show me your cares [Pascha]
The digital clock beside the bed read 4:12 AM.I opened my eyes slowly, and for a moment, the world felt still.Moonlight filtered through the thin curtains, casting soft lines across the wooden floor and the white bedsheet I was lying on. The sheet Belva said she’d just washed yesterday.I turned my head slightly, feeling the dull throb in my left shoulder.And I just... smiled a little.Still fresh in my memory: her panicked voice, her trembling hands, her frustrated muttering while cleaning up my blood last night. Belva in her panic-anger mode was honestly one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.I reached for my phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up, too bright at first. I opened the messaging app and typed quickly to Jacob.Pascha: Clean my wound again later.Barely two seconds and it showed a blue check.Then I switched to another contact and hit call without hesitation.Ronan.The dial tone rang.Once. Twice.“I swear on my wife and my dog, if this isn’t an emergen
His Son, Her Secret CLXXXIII : Dying, But Still Hot [Pascha]
The pain came in lazy pulses.Not the kind that made you scream or tear up a pillow, but more like a harsh whisper gnawing at the edges of your consciousness.I sat on a black leather chair in the back room of the mansion, my shirt torn, blood dripping onto the kind of expensive floor that would probably make my company accountant faint if he knew how much the carpet cost.Jacob was kneeling beside me, face tight, gloved hands steady, eyes filled with his usual annoyance. Christian stood in the corner, holding a basin of water and a clean towel, looking like he’d just seen a zombie walk into the living room.“Holy shit…” Christian muttered in panic, eyes wide. “Boss, we have to go to a hospital! This is serious! This is insane! This is—”I lazily raised an eyebrow. “If you can’t shut up, Christian, I’ll have Jacob stitch your mouth closed before he does my shoulder.”Christian froze. Literally.Jacob snorted, lifting a shiny pair of tweezers into the air, inspecting them under the des
