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CHAPTER 123 — THE STORM UNLEASHED

Autor: Ella D’Ravyn
last update Data de publicação: 2026-07-07 02:21:15

PRESENT

ELIZABETH

My mother settles into the wine-red velvet sofa like a queen on her throne, while my sisters scatter across the room like cats sniffing new territory. The apartment still smells of fresh paint and polished wood — an elegant disguise for the bulletproof walls Yakov installed.

"Daryushka, tell me everything." Mom murmurs, sinking her black-painted fingers into a crystal glass filled with vodka. Her green eyes gleam with the same predatory curiosity from when we were children and
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  • I Surrender to Them   CHAPTER 124 — THE STORM EYES

    PIERRE DUMONTPARIS, FRANCE — LE BARONEndless meetings at a business lunch, investors sucking every drop of patience I have left, and that damn autumn collection that refuses to come together on paper. Antoine, my department director and best friend since childhood, is on edge — I can see it in the small tics that only I know, the ones he hides from the rest of the world."We need a drink." He growls, rubbing his face with his hands, the impeccable cuffs of his shirt now disheveled.We leave the meeting exhausted, but my mind can't stop thinking about the blonde I bumped into earlier at Maison. She was so unique, so… different. So much so that before I even walked through the Maison doors to meet Antoine for today's meeting, as soon as I finished my call, I'd already asked one of my men to locate her.And now, thanks to the dossier I just received as we left the restaurant, I know everything about Elizabeth Taylor Smirnov.The complete dossier on her weighs in my hands like a sentenc

  • I Surrender to Them   CHAPTER 123 — THE STORM UNLEASHED

    PRESENTELIZABETHMy mother settles into the wine-red velvet sofa like a queen on her throne, while my sisters scatter across the room like cats sniffing new territory. The apartment still smells of fresh paint and polished wood — an elegant disguise for the bulletproof walls Yakov installed."Daryushka, tell me everything." Mom murmurs, sinking her black-painted fingers into a crystal glass filled with vodka. Her green eyes gleam with the same predatory curiosity from when we were children and she'd interrogate me about stolen candy.I take a deep breath as I describe Maison Dumont: the hallways are wide as runways, the scent of Italian leather and Turkish coffee, the way the older designers watched me as if I were an intruder—which, technically, I am."And this Pierre Dumont?" Alicia interrupts, sharpening a nail with the tip of her stylus. "Is he as charming as they say?"Before I can answer, Mom lets out that low laugh that makes even the furniture tremble. Her high heels rest on

  • I Surrender to Them   CHAPTER 122 — THE STORM BREWS

    PAST — 13 YEARS AGODARYA GREENNEW YORK, NY — GREEN MANSIONOne year.Twelve months since Michael walked into my life like a storm of charm and secrets. Now, when I hear his footsteps in the hallway, my heart races in a way I can't control.The door opens, and he appears with a smile that illuminates even the darkest corners of the mansion."Darya." My name on his lips is like music — sweet and soft — and I catch myself smiling before I even realize it.I pretend to keep reading, but my eyes betray me, searching for his. But he knows the effect he has on me and loves it."I was thinking about you." He leans in, gently taking the book from my hands. His fingers brush against mine, and a shiver runs through my body."It must have been a very short thought, then." I reply, trying to keep my tone playful, but my voice falters when he moves closer.He laughs, low, and the sound makes my stomach flutter."You talk as if you don't notice the way I spend hours watching you." His eyes gleam w

  • I Surrender to Them   CHAPTER 121 — THE APARTMENT 

    At night, in my apartment, I observe the wine-red dress I sketched during my visit to Maison Dumont, now hanging on the mannequin.Illusion neckline—toide microphones. A high waist—forccessing weapons. A secret pocket—foroisons.A mafiosa must always be prepared, wouldn't you agree?In the mirror, two Daryas stare back at me:On the left: Daughter of Faina Green, who knows 14 ways to kill with a hatpin.On the right: Award-winning Parsons student, who cries the first time she sees Chantilly lace.I even enrolled in a real fashion school—withxams, internships, and sleepless nights over sketches and fabrics—justo every detail of my charade would be flawless.My phone vibrates. It's Yakov."Darykins!"The nickname slips through the line like it always has, three drawn-out syllables between his teeth, where the prolonged "Kins" is our signature. Only Yakov pronounces it that way, since we were five, when he saved me from a kidnapping by pulling my ponytail and stabbing the man's eye with

  • I Surrender to Them   CHAPTER 120 — THE STORM ARRIVES

    PRESENTELIZABETHPARIS, FRANCE — CHARLES DE GAULLE AIRPORTI enter Paris as Elizabeth Smirnov.A name that doesn't truly belong to me but carries the weight of my mother's history. Elizabeth, my middle name. Smirnov, the identity she used years ago to survive.The city lights flicker below like interrogation spotlights, but I don't blink back. Paris doesn't know who just arrived. And it's better that way.Russian blood from the Petrovs, cold as a Moscow winter, mixed with the calculating ambition of the Greens. I was born between codes of honor stained in red and raised to survive any scenario. Now, I step off the plane with a clear objective: to kill Olivier Lefèvre—the man who almost destroyed my family on my twenty-first birthday, along with my triplets, Vasily and Yakov.Maison Dumont is my entry point — the perfect disguise.To the world, I'm just a promising fashion designer. To the underworld, I'm a shadow ready to strike.My brothers, Yakov and Vasily, left me with little inf

  • I Surrender to Them   CHAPTER 119 — PROLOGUE (DARYA GREEN)

    PROLOGUEPAST — 14 YEARS AGODARYA GREENNEW YORK, NY — GREEN MANSIONMy mother instituted the number system out of pure logistical necessity.Imagine five armed-to-the-teeth men responding at the same time when a child yells "Dad!" in the middle of dinner. Ever seen the chaos of five Glocks being drawn simultaneously because Yakov slipped on dried blood from training and called for help? Yeah…That's how we learned:FATHER 1 ➻ HEROESThe patriarch had heavy hands that served both to bandage scraped knees and to dislocate traitors' jaws. Our first-aid manual was him muttering, "Press here, daughter, until the bone stops creaking," while threading needles through open wounds.FATHER 2 ➻ LUTHERThe family strategist. Not the behind-the-scenes planner type—but the one who sketched tactics with empty cartridges over coffee-stained maps while his cigarette smoke veiled the most crucial details."A direct attack is predictable," he'd say, dragging his finger over an alternative route. "True

  • I Surrender to Them   CHAPTER 69 — HEADING INTO CONFLICT

    Faina Petrov What we expected finally happened. My father attacked the warehouses, causing delays in the Green brothers’ business. They are trying to provoke a response, pushing their men to react, but we — ever since they settled here in New York — have stayed silent.

  • I Surrender to Them   CHAPTER 02 — THE BASEMENT

    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

  • I Surrender to Them   CHAPTER 01 — THE GIRL

    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

  • I Surrender to Them   PROLOGUE — THE ALLEY

    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,

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