LOGINHis blood is still on my hands when he presses me to the wall. He's not kissing me yet, just his breath at my throat and his fingers tugging the waistband of my scrubs like he owns whatâs under them. "I kill for you, doctor," he growls, voice thick with threat and worship. "The least you can do is stop pretending you donât like it." I should run, instead, I tilt my chinâand dare him to try. Dr. Elena Vance never meant to save a mafia king. One moment, sheâs leaving a trauma shift. The next, sheâs elbow-deep in blood, patching up a man with a gun under his belt and death in his eyes. That man is Dante Volkov. Russiaâs most wanted heir. New Yorkâs rising Pakhan. And now? Elenaâs captor. His offer is simple: Marry him or disappear forever. She bargains for three months.Three months to resist the Bratvaâs crown prince. Three months to prove sheâs no oneâs possession. But Dante doesnât play fair. He wages war with his hands, his mouth, his voiceâclaiming Elena in every room, every breath, every ruined rule. And as old enemies rise and family blood spills, one thing becomes terrifyingly clear: Elena isnât just married to the mob. Sheâs becoming one of them.
View MoreDanteâs POV I stand there in the boardroom with Elena still catching her breath behind me on the table, and Viktorâs holding up her wedding ring like itâs some kind of trophy. My blood boils so hot I can feel it in my teeth. âGive it back,â I say, voice low. Viktor twirls the gold band between his fingers, smirking like the smug bastard he is. âCome and take it, little brother. Or are you too busy playing husband to handle family business? I bet that sweet doctor cunt has you wrapped around her finger tighter than this ring ever could.â I move before he finishes the sentence. I close the distance fast and slam my fist into his jaw again. The crack echoes through the room. He staggers but doesnât go down. Instead he laughs and swings back hard, catching me in the ribs. Pain flares bright and sharp, but I welcome it because it keeps me focused. I grab his collar and drive my knee into his gut twice, feeling the air whoosh out of him. He grunts, folds for half a second, then straigh
Danteâs POV I donât waste a second.I shove her dress higher around her waist, yank her soaked panties to the side, and bury my face in her dripping pussy. My tongue drags flat and slow up her slit, tasting how wet she still is from coming on my fingers during the meeting.âFuckâ Dante!â she cries out, hands flying to my hair, pulling me closer. âAhhâ yesâ right thereââI groan against her, sucking her swollen clit into my mouth, tongue flicking fast while two fingers slide back inside her tight heat. Sheâs soaked, walls fluttering around me instantly.âMmmhâ oh godâ youâre going to make me come again already,â she moans, hips grinding against my face. âOohhhâ donât stopâ pleaseââI pump my fingers deeper, curling them hard against that spot inside her while I suck her clit relentlessly. âYou were such a good girl in that meeting, baby. Soaking my hand while they talked business. Now I want to hear you scream for me on this table.âShe arches off the mahogany, thighs trembling around
Danteâs POV The heads of the five families sit around the massive mahogany table like vultures waiting for a corpse. Tension is thick enough to choke on. No one trusts anyone, least of all me right now. I lean back in the chair at the head, fingers steepled, watching them. Old Man Rossi from the Italians keeps tapping his pen. The Irish guy, Callahan, wonât stop cracking his knuckles. The Albanians and the two smaller crews look ready to draw on each other at any second. âGentlemen,â I say, voice low and calm. âWeâre here to talk business, not start another war. The drug route through the ports is worth twenty million a month if we do it right. Split properly. No one gets greedy.â Rossi snorts. âEasy for you to say, Volkov. You control the docks. Weâre supposed to trust you wonât fuck us over the second the ink dries?â Callahan leans forward. âHeâs got a point. Last time we trusted a Volkov, half our shipment disappeared and your brother Viktor was suddenly richer.â I smil
Elenaâs POV Viktorâs eyes flash with pure rage. His hand snaps up, fingers wrapping around my throat, slamming me harder against the dryer. The metal is hot against my back, vibrating from the cycle still running inside.âYou little cunt,â he snarls, blood still dripping from his torn lip onto my shirt. âYou think biting me makes you tough? I like it when they fight. Makes breaking them so much sweeter.âI gasp for air, but I donât look away. âThen youâre going to love this.âI bring my knee up hard between his legs. He twists at the last second so I only graze his thigh, but itâs enough to make him loosen his grip. I shove him back with everything I have.He stumbles, laughing through the pain. âFeisty. I told Dante youâd be fun. He doesnât deserve a woman like you.âI wipe his blood from my mouth with the back of my hand. âAnd you deserve a bullet. Stay the hell away from me.âHe lunges again, faster this time. His hand clamps around my wrist, twisting it painfully behind my back a






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