THE DONS' VIRGIN

LIAThe car was silent. On my right, Salve sat perfectly still, his eyes fixed ahead, his expression unreadable. Every inch of him was control. His body never shifted, his breathing never broke rhythm, as if he’d been carved from stone. On my left, Dimitri sprawled like a king on his throne, one arm draped along the seat behind me, his thigh brushing mine whenever the car jolted. He didn’t bother hiding the way his eyes roamed over me. Where Salve’s stillness suffocated, Dimitri’s heat burned.I was trapped between winter and wildfire.The city lights streaked past the tinted windows, flashing across their faces like fragments of some nightmare I couldn’t wake from. My stepmother’s laughter still echoed in my skull. Sold. Half a billion. A number bigger than I could comprehend. And here I was. A prize crammed into the back seat between two predators who had promised to share me.I kept my eyes on my lap, nails digging into my palms. If I looked at them, I’d shatter.No one spoke. Not

LIAThe garden was beautiful.Roses lined the stone path, scarlet and white, their petals glistening with dew. The air smelled of jasmine. Beyond the hedges, I could hear the faint hum of the city. All the things that were out there, just beyond these walls.But the walls were high.The gates were locked.And I was a bird in a gilded cage.I sat on the iron bench beneath a weeping willow, my hands tight in my lap. The ring of chains still clung to my mind, even if my wrists were bare now. They didn’t need iron to bind me anymore. They had something worse—fear.“Brooding already, kotyonok?”Dimitri’s voice slid over me like silk laced with venom. I didn’t look up. He always carried a storm into the space around him—heat, restlessness, danger.He stepped onto the gravel path, dressed in black slacks and a half-open shirt, sunlight glinting on the gold chain at his throat. His smile was sharp, wicked, as he leaned against the edge of the bench.I clenched my hands harder. “What do you want?”

LIA The house was too quiet at night.The walls felt alive, humming with secrets I wasn’t meant to know. I sat on the bed that wasn’t mine, silk sheets cold against my skin. The chandelier above me cast golden light, as if mocking me. I didn’t belong here. I never had. The diamond ring on my finger caught the light and burned. No matter how I turned my hand, the stone seemed to follow me, glaring like an eye. A shackle dressed as a jewel. Half a billion dollars. That number had repeated in my head since the auction. Over and over, like a curse. That’s what they paid. That’s what I was worth. To them, not as a person—but as a body and a womb. I pressed my hands to my ears, trying to drown the memory out. But it came anyway. The gavel slamming down. The men in suits shouting, laughing. My stepmother’s voice, bright and greedy. “Virgin, untouched, perfect.” The way she smiled as if she were proud. I had been standing there under the lights, trembling, naked in their eyes even if I wore

SALVEThe room was quiet, too quiet for a night meant to be a celebration. The applause, the champagne, the carefully rehearsed smiles—it was all over now. Behind the locked door of my suite, the world no longer saw the don with the perfect bride at his side. It was just me. And the weight of what I had done.I sat on the edge of the bed, loosening my cuffs, stripping away the trappings of the husband I had pretended to be. The ring gleamed dully in the lamplight, mocking me with its permanence. Lia’s ring, her vows, her silent resentment—all of it bound to me now. But she wasn’t the reason I had agreed to this.The marriage wasn’t for her.It wasn’t even for me. It was for us. For him.The door clicked open. I didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Dimitri never knocked. He leaned lazily against the frame, his shirt half undone, his smirk still clinging to his lips from the chaos of the night. “Brooding already?” he teased.I let out a low breath. “You never tire of mocking me.”“N

THIRD PERSONThe afternoon sun spilled over the manicured gardens, golden light catching the dew on the roses. Lia moved along the stone path, her thoughts tangled, eyes fixed on the ground, unaware of the quiet presence that lingered in the shadows, just beyond the line of hedges.A figure stood perfectly still, almost blending into the world around her. Every movement, every glance, was calculated, watching, waiting. The figure’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile.“She’s finally here,” the figure murmured softly, unheard by anyone. “Nine years later… closer to me than she thinks.”Lia walked past, lost in her own thoughts, oblivious. The figure remained in the shadows a moment longer, then melted back into the hidden depths of the garden, unseen and silent, leaving only the faintest echo of presence behind.LIAI slipped away from the garden, keeping my steps light and quiet. The afternoon sun stretched long shadows across the walls, and every rustle of the leaves made my heart