LOGINMilo Petrov ruled Russia’s underworld with an iron fist. For years, I was nothing more than his possession—his plaything, his captive. His wealth and dangerous charm ensnared me, but I couldn’t escape the truth: I was nothing more than a pawn in his game. At just 19 years old, I never imagined my life would spiral so far out of control. He was ruthless, but everything about him intrigued me. The only problem? I had once loved his son, Andrew. Now I found myself torn between the deadly allure of Milo and the guilt of betraying Andrew, my first love. Could blood really be thicker than desire? My name is Emilie, and this is the twist story of how Milo Petrov took my heart and shattered my world.
View MoreMilo’s POVThe estate was lit like a fortress, with floodlights on every corner, motion sensors blinking, Rico’s sniper scope catching moonlight from the roof. I stood at the front gate with Emilie on my left, Andrew on my right. Both armed now. Both silent. The tension between them was thick enough to choke on, but neither of them let it show.Isabella’s SUV rolled up exactly at midnight. Black, tinted, no plates. The driver killed the engine and stayed inside. Only one door opened.She stepped out alone.Black leather coat to the knee, red heels clicking on gravel, hair loose and dark. She looked exactly like she had five years ago — dangerous, expensive, and completely unafraid.She stopped ten meters from the gate, her hands visible, her red lips curved in that familiar half-smile.“Milo Petrov,” she said, voice carrying over the night air. “Still handsome. Still stubborn.”I didn’t smile. “You’re late.”“I’m fashionable,” she corrected. Her eyes slid to Emilie. “And you brought t
Emilie’s POVThe mansion was too quiet after the training room cleared. The breeze from the open windows had died down, leaving the air still and thick. My body still hummed from Milo’s kiss — the way his hands had pinned me, the low groan he let slip when my nails dug into his back. It was the second time he’d kissed me like that, and each time it felt more dangerous and more real. I didn’t know how to stop wanting it, and that scared me more than Isabella Russo circling the estate.I needed air.I slipped out to the inner courtyard, the stone cool under my bare feet. I sat on the edge of the fountain, my knees drawn up, the letter from my mother folded in my lap again. I kept rereading the same line.*“The Gallos have it… the money’s yours, Emilie. Keep it safe.”*I didn’t know what “it” was. Money? A deed? A key Victor had mentioned in his half-conscious ramblings? Every time I asked him, he drifted back into sleep. Lena said he needed rest, not interrogation. But I couldn’t wait.
Milo’s POVThe rain had finally stopped sometime during the night. By late afternoon the sky was clear, pale blue with thin clouds drifting like smoke. A cool breeze moved through the open windows of the training room, carrying the scent of wet pine and distant smoke. I stood in the center of the mat, my sleeves rolled to the elbows, watching Emilie circle me with the caution of someone who’d been burned too many times.She wore loose black pants and a fitted tank top Rico had found in the storage closet. Her hair was tied back, a few dark strands already sticking to her neck from the effort. She looked different today, not just tired or scared, but focused and hungry. The girl who once offered herself to settle a debt was learning how to take something back.“Again,” I said.She lunged low, trying to sweep my legs the way Rico had shown her yesterday. I stepped aside, caught her wrist, and twisted her arm gently behind her back — not enough to hurt, just enough to remind her of contr
Emilie’s POV:The rain followed us, a steady drum against the van as we pulled up to a massive iron gate, hidden deep in the woods outside the city. Dimitri’s estate loomed ahead, a stone mansion with tall walls and dark windows, like something out of a ghost story. I clutched my dad’s hand, his breathing steady but weak from surgery, his face pale under the bruises. Milo sat across from me, his jaw tight, his eyes scanning the trees like danger was already here. Andrew was in the back, silent, his bandaged arm stiff, his hurt from my kiss with Milo in the hospital cutting deeper than any wound. Lena, the nurse, checked my dad’s pulse, her calm voice hiding something that made me uneasy. Rico, one of Milo’s men, drove, his eyes cold every time they flicked to Andrew.I was exhausted, body and soul. The hospital fight, the van chase, kissing Milo, kissing Andrew, it was all too much. Guilt twisted my heart, for my dad, for Andrew, for letting Milo pull me in when I didn’t even know
Emilie’s POV:The car’s tires hummed on the wet road, the rain still pounding outside as we sped through the city. I sat in the backseat, squeezed between Andrew and the door, my heart racing from the chaos at the warehouse. Milo was in the front, his face hard as stone, his gun resting on his lap
Emilie’s POV:The penthouse felt colder this morning, like the walls were holding their breath. I stood in the kitchen, staring at the coffee maker as it gurgled, but my mind was somewhere else. The note I’d gotten yesterday“Your father’s debts aren’t paid. Leave Milo, or he’ll pay the price” was
Andrew’s POVI sat in a dark corner of a rundown bar, the kind of place where nobody asks your name. The air smelled like old beer and cigarette smoke. My glass of whiskey sat half-empty on the sticky table, but it wasn’t helping. Emilie’s words from last night kept playing in my head, over and ov
Milo’s POV:The hospital’s halls were too quiet, the kind of quiet that hides danger. My gun was steady in my hand, my heart still racing from Emilie’s kiss in the waiting room, her lips hot, her body pressed against mine, her moan echoing in my head. But Andrew’s hurt eyes and Boris’s warning abo






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