MasukFaina Green
I couldn’t stop it.
That same night, after my last confrontation with Darya, the boys acted.
Yakov and Vasily didn’t ask for permission. They simply waited for Michael to leave her room one more time—almost two in the morning—grabbed him in the back corridor, and dragged him to the old shed behind the mansion, t
The glass of my office window is cold beneath my fingers.For the fifth time in less than ten minutes, I check the clock.9:47.Elizabeth is late.For anyone else, that would go unnoticed. For her, no. Punctuality was never just a detail; it was part of who she was.The coffee I'm holding has already gone cold.A double espresso with a pinch of cinnamon.I discovered this habit during the mornings in my apartment, when she would make her own coffee, still sleepy, hair messy, movements slow, as if the world hadn't fully woken up yet.Then she appears.She emerges between two black BMWs, walking quickly toward the Maison entrance.The cobalt blue Dior dress follows every step without hiding the elegance. The side slit reveals a glimpse of her legs before disappearing again. Her loose hair sways in the wind, exactly how I like it.My heart races.Ridiculous.Before I can think better of it, I'm already out of the office, glass in hand.The coffee has become just an excuse.I want to see
The noise rips me from sleep like a knife.Before I even open my eyes fully, my hand is already on the Glock under the pillow. My body reacts before my mind. Years of training don't disappear, not even after a restless night.I leave the bedroom in combat stance, the weapon firm in my hands, muscles ready to strike. My left hand, bandaged after the glass shattered in the sink when I received Michael's message, pulses with pain. I ignore it.Only to come face to face with..."Vasily?"My brother stands in the center of the room, impeccable in his black suit, illuminated only by the moonlight filtering through the window.Before I can understand what's happening, the door opens again.Yakov enters.His heavy footsteps echo through the silent apartment."What the hell?!" I lower the weapon, though adrenaline still courses through my body. "Couldn't you have warned me you were breaking into my apartment?"The time zones should have made that impossible.Yakov took off from New York in his
PIERREThe weekend evaporated too quickly.Monday arrives without mercy.I'm standing in the underground parking lot of the Ritz, after spending nearly three hours trapped in a meeting room surrounded by gold walls and burgundy velvet curtains. The air conditioning had turned the space into a cold chamber, but nothing was enough to erase the memory of the heat of her body against mine.I can still taste the skin of her neck.The low sound that escaped her lips when my teeth found that spot between her shoulder and neck still echoes in my head.Beside me, Antoine talks nonstop.His fingers drum on the red briefcase he received from his sister years ago, while he lists numbers, schedules, and strategies."If we delay production in Milan by two weeks, we can reallocate the budget to the digital campaign without sacrificing the Tokyo launch."His voice carries the same precision as always. The same he had at Harvard, when we spent nights planning how to turn the Maison into something bigg
ELIZABETHPRESENTPARIS, FRANCEThe weekend at his house had been intense, intoxicating… and ended far too quickly.I barely had the chance to speak with my brothers and our soldiers about the investigation across the city regarding the Black Hand and Olivier before they left. Pierre barely let me leave the bedroom—the man is insatiable, keeping us imprisoned in the room like prisoners of our own desires.The curtains remained drawn.The phone turned off.The world outside, forgotten.He devoured me entirely, leaving marks that weren't just on my skin but on my soul. And today I can barely walk without feeling the weight of every touch, every bite, every promise whispered in the dark.I made my interest in Paris clear during our drive to Maison. With carefully calculated questions about architecture, about the bistros hidden in alleyways, and about the places only true Parisians know.But since we arrived at Maison, he disappeared.We're in a race against time to launch the new collec
OLIVIERPAST — 9 YEARS AGOPARIS, FRANCE — OLIVIER'S HOUSEFinally healed. The scars still ache, but they're only physical marks—inside, the wound still burns like fire. Pyotr thought he would destroy me by attacking my family, but he underestimated my will to survive. And now, while the world believes I'm dead or disappeared, I work in the shadows, letting Henri take command of my business. He's the only one I trust, my right hand, my brother in all but blood.The room is dark, only the dim light of a lamp illuminating the documents scattered across the table. I study every move, every transaction, every loose thread that might lead me to Pyotr. And then, the door opens. Henri enters, his face serious, his eyes carrying something that isn't just duty—it's discovery."Olivier, I have something important."He doesn't need to say more. His tone already tells me things are about to change."Speak."Henri places a dossier in front of me, opening it to reveal photographs and reports."Pyot
ELIZABETHThe weight of my lie still burns in my throat.I almost gave everything away. Almost. One wrong move, one extra word, and he would have... But I was saved by the agreement we made about not knowing each other's past.And then he said he would be worse than a hero to me. I laughed. Not because it was funny, but because it was dangerously attractive. Charming. Exciting. That hoarse tone of voice, the promise that he wouldn't be a savior, but something darker and more real. Someone who would drag me into the abyss with him, instead of pulling me toward the light.And now, when his hands pull me close, when his lips find mine with a mixture of possession and restrained fury, I give in. I let him take what he wants. I let his hands explore my body as if they owned it. I let his teeth bite my lip, his warm breath mingling with mine.As long as he doesn't speak to me of love…And then, I can let him shatter me.Let his hands, so skilled at dominating the world, be relentless in dom
Noah GreenHeros gathered us in the office and told us everything. Luther’s growing obsession with Liora. How he saw in her a chance for redemption, a living shadow of Alicia. After many questions, we finally understood the real reason behind the Brotherhood Law—the rule our eldest brother created
Liora VossI woke to the constant sound of dripping water. Ploc. Ploc. Ploc. A slow, relentless rhythm echoing off the damp concrete walls, marking time like a macabre clock. The heavy smell of mold and wet earth filled my nostrils, mixed with something metallic I preferred not to identify. The dar
Heros GreenNew York, Todt Hill — 3 days laterThe air inside the office was dense, almost palpable. The scent of aged whiskey mingled with the aged leather of the furniture and the residual smoke of Cuban cigars that still lingered in the environment. I found myself seated behind the imposing dark
Liora VossMoscow, Ulitsa Arbat — Arbat StreetI waited outside the school gates for more than two hours. My phone had gone warm in my hand from calling Mackenzie—my mother—over and over again.Twenty-three times.Every call went to voicemail.Dusk bled across the city in shades of tarnished gold,







