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CHAPTER 57
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2025-05-11 06:20:28
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SHADOW OF VOW'S CHAPTER 58
The silence in the penthouse was almost too loud. I stood in front of the mirror in our bedroom, wrapped in sheer black lace, wondering if I’d officially lost my mind. Correction—Stassie had dragged me to the edge, but I’d jumped willingly. “This screams ‘take me now’, Alessia,” she had said earlier, holding up the lingerie with a devilish glint in her eyes. “Wear this and see how long Mr. Mafia King lasts before he breaks.” At the time, I laughed. Nervous. Unsure. Now, I wasn’t laughing. I was pacing. My fingers played with the hem of the robe I wore over the lingerie, a sheer cover that did absolutely nothing to hide the risqué outfit beneath. My heart thudded with the rhythm of anticipation and dread. The logical part of me said this was a mistake. That seduction wasn’t clarity. That I was playing with fire again. But another part of me—the reckless, curious, maybe-slightly-in-love part—wanted to see what happened when I stopped running. Since the shopping trip with St
SHADOW OF VOW'S CHAPTER 57
Alessia Volkov By the time the driver pulls into the circular driveway of the Volkov estate, the sky has turned a dusky lavender, the sun retreating like it, too, needed to disappear for a while. My phone buzzes with a message from Stassie:"Tell the tall brooding husband I said "hi"(and also that he’s hot). Call me if he gets on your nerves. Or takes his shirt off. Whichever comes first."I smirk and slide the phone into my bag.The moment I step inside, the shift in atmosphere is immediate. The house feels... alert. Still. Too still.“Good evening, Mrs. Volkov,” one of the guards says from near the staircase, nodding curtly.I don’t respond. Not out of rudeness, but because something itches under my skin. A current. Like the quiet before an earthquake.My heels echo on the marble as I step further in. I expect to find Nikolai in his office, maybe going over documents or sipping that expensive whiskey he pretends he doesn’t enjoy.Instead, I hear voices.Low. Tense.I follow the sou
SHADOW OF VOW'S CHAPTER 56
Alessia Volkov If someone had told me a few months ago that I’d be strolling through Rodeo Drive with Stassie, arms heavy with shopping bags and a smile tugging at my lips, I would’ve called them delusional.And yet, here I am.“Try this one!” Stassie chirps, holding up a pastel blue mini dress against my chest. “It’s very ‘my-husband-won’t-know-what-hit-him’.”I arch a brow. “That’s oddly specific.”She grins, devilish and full of mischief. “Well, you’ve got that glow, babe. It’s only fair we give it a proper outfit.”I glance at my reflection in the mirror of the boutique’s velvet-draped fitting room. I do look… different. Lighter somehow. Still sarcastic, still guarded, but a little less broken.“You’re annoyingly observant,” I mumble, taking the dress from her and disappearing behind the curtain.“Right? It’s a gift.”I hear the rustling of more fabric being tossed over the fitting room door. Stassie is a menace when she shops—an enthusiastic one. She’s been chattering nonstop si
SHADOW OF VOW'S CHAPTER 55
Nikolai Volkov The moment the envelope hit my desk, I knew it wasn't just another threat. It was too formal, too clean, too deliberate. The kind of envelope that meant war—not just in words, but in legacy.I didn’t open it right away. Instead, I stared at it for a moment, feeling the familiar sting of anticipation burning just behind my sternum.It bore no return address. No emblem. Just my name, scrawled in neat, deliberate handwriting."Nikolai Volkov."I broke the seal with a blade, unfolding the letter with care. The message was short.“Let’s talk, Volkov. Face to face. One week. Neutral grounds. No backup—or do bring them. I want them to see what’s coming.—Natov”Bastard.He didn’t even bother to sign with a title. No “Don Natov,” no initials. Just a name. Like we were equals.We weren’t.And now, I had to remind him of that.—I gathered my men within the hour.The war room at the mansion felt colder than usual. Zayn stood at my right, arms crossed, his expression grim. Across
SHADOW OF VOW'S CHAPTER 54
Alessia Volkov The silence stretched between us like a tightrope I wasn’t sure I wanted to walk.Nikolai stood a few feet away, his body still as stone, arms crossed, eyes locked on mine. That infuriating unreadable stare of his. It was the kind of look that could either promise ruin or reveal everything if I dared to stare long enough. But I’d learned the hard way—he didn’t give anything away for free.Still, I wasn't going to let the moment pass.I took a slow breath, crossing my arms in return—not out of defiance, but because it was the only thing keeping me from fidgeting under that gaze. My voice came out quieter than I expected.“Why me, Nikolai?”A flicker. Barely noticeable, but I saw it. A twitch in his jaw. A shift in his weight.Good. I’d hit something.“You could’ve taken anything else. My father offered you his everything. You could’ve had it all. But you asked for me.” My throat tightened, but I forced the words through. “Why?”He didn’t answer. Of course not. That woul
SHADOW OF VOW'S CHAPTER 53
Alessia Volkov There was something suspiciously charming about the way Nikolai Volkov smirked.Like he knew something I didn’t.Or worse… like he knew I knew he knew—and was daring me to do something about it.And lately, that smirk had become a permanent fixture on his face.Our truce—if we could call it that—had brought a new kind of peace between us. Fewer arguments. Less hostility. Occasional laughter. The kind of calm that made me question if this man was still the same infuriating control freak I married.But with peace came something even more dangerous.Playfulness.And from Nikolai, that translated to subtle touches. Lingering gazes. Innuendos that danced dangerously on the edge of propriety. And, of course, the smirk.Today was no different.He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, wearing black slacks, a crisp white shirt rolled to his elbows, and that damn smirk."You’re awake early," he said, sipping his espresso like a villain in a perfume ad.“I had a nightmare,” I repl
SHADOW OF VOW'S CHAPTER 52
Exterior PovThe luxury of the study did little to ease the weight in Dante Moretti’s chest. The room was adorned in dark oak and rich leather, a blend of Italian elegance and old-world authority, but even that ambiance felt suffocating tonight. A single glass of scotch rested on the armrest of his chair, untouched, the ice melting slowly into insignificance.Across from him, Viktor Natov sat with the poise of a viper: relaxed, but every fiber of his being coiled, ready to strike. His suit was impeccable, his demeanor calm, but his eyes—those glacial eyes—carried a madness that no amount of grooming could conceal. He sipped his vodka slowly, lips curling into a thin smile as he studied Dante like a predator admiring the temporary civility before bloodshed.“I have to say, Dante,” Natov began in his thick Eastern European accent, “I didn’t expect a man like you to agree to work with a monster like me.”Dante didn’t respond immediately. He leaned back into the leather chair, eyes narrow
SHADOW OF VOW'S CHAPTER 51
Nikolai Volkov The low hum of the fireplace was the only sound accompanying the silence in my office. The thick walls of the penthouse filtered out the distant noise of Los Angeles. Outside, the city was alive. Inside, I was a storm waiting to break. The amber glow of the desk lamp cast shadows on the mahogany as I flipped through the recent reports. Arms shipments. Movement of rival factions. Port schedules. Nothing out of the ordinary until the name appeared. Viktor Natov. I froze. The words blurred, my mind short-circuiting for a fraction of a second before the fire roared back to life in my chest. My fingers clenched around the edge of the folder. A knock. Three sharp taps. Predictable. Controlled. Zayn. “Come in,” I said, my voice like steel scraped against gravel. Zayn entered, dressed in black as usual, his shoulders relaxed but his eyes alert. He didn’t wait for pleasantries. He closed the door and approached the desk, placing a USB and a printed document in front of
SHADOW OF VOW'S CHAPTER 50
Alessia Volkov The moment I stepped out onto the terrace, barefoot, wrapped in a silk robe that clung to my curves like a second skin, I saw him.Nikolai.He was seated on one of the lounge chairs by the pool, a laptop perched on his lap, the screen casting a faint glow over his sharp features. The light breeze tousled his dark hair as if it belonged to him, as if even nature obeyed his silent command. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the powerful tendons of his forearms. His jaw was tight with focus, eyes locked on the screen.And I wanted to ruin that focus. Completely.Not because I needed attention. Not because I was feeling insecure. But because I was Alessia Moretti, and I never let a slight go unanswered. No matter how subtle.Sienna McCoy had touched what was mine.I knew Nikolai had dealt with her. I knew he’d said the words, drawn the line, made it clear she had no claim on him. But I also knew men like him. Power didn’t only live in action—it breathed in
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