FAZER LOGINOne accidental send. One ruthless Bratva boss. A love that burns dangerously hot and a secret daughter that could destroy them both. Mindy never meant to send those steamy nudes and explicit videos to her intimidating boss, Maron Korolev, the powerful Pakhan of the Korolev Bratva. It was supposed to spice up her dying relationship... until everything exploded. Fired, heartbroken, and coerced into his opulent palace a gilded cage of luxury and danger Mindy becomes captive to the dark, dominant man who's haunted her fantasies. But Maron is more than tall, handsome, and merciless. He's an obsession incarnate. As passion ignites into scorching nights of surrender, Mindy discovers she's pregnant with his child. In a world of betrayal, family secrets, and deadly enemies, one devastating misunderstanding tears them apart leaving Maron presumed dead and Mindy to raise their daughter alone for seven long years. Now, the ghost from her past returns: alive, unforgiving, and determined to reclaim what's his. With old accusations, vengeful kidnappers, and unresolved desire threatening to consume them, can Mindy protect her daughter... or will she surrender once more to the ruthless serenade of a man who could be her salvation or her ruin? A steamy, suspenseful Russian mafia full of alpha possession, second chances, heartbreaking twists, and a hard-won happily ever after.
Ver mais"Did you receive the letter that came in this morning at your office?" Dickson threw the question at Amanda like a challenge, his eyes demanding a response, his voice sharp with accusation.
"W-which letter are you talking about, Dickson?" She hoped, in her heart, that he wasn't referring to the devastating letter she had received earlier. "Don't act dumb, WOMAN!" he protested, his patience wearing thin. "I'm talking about the divorce letter." The words hung in the air like a heavy storm cloud, casting a shadow over the room. Amanda's heart sank, and she staggered a bit as if the ground beneath her had shifted. "You promised me that you’ll be by my side till death do us apart. I worked day and night, sacrificed so much for this marriage. Why are you doing this, Dickson? What did I do to deserve a divorce?" Amanda muttered, her voice laced with bitterness. Her eyes welled up with unshed tears. The weight of disappointment pressed upon her, threatening to break her spirit. She needed answers, clarity, and closure. The pit of her stomach churned with a mixture of anger and hurt. Dickson, standing tall before her, his features carved from stone, met her gaze with an intensity that mirrored the storm within. His eyes, devoid of mercy, met hers with a cold stare. "It's not about what you did. It's about what you didn't do. Our marriage is a charade, Amanda. We're both living a lie. Amelia’s back, and she doesn’t want to see you! It’s time for our marriage to terminate. So you have to go!" Amanda’s pale lips quivered like if she had fallen into the frigid water. She asked in disbelief, "You’re divorcing me because she’s back? Is our marriage nothing but a joke to you?" "You were not the one I wanted to marry in the first place, and you drove Amelia away two years ago with your filthy tricks. Promising me that you’ll bore me a son to carry on my family name. Amanda, it’s been two years now and you haven’t given me a female child to talk less of a male child. Now that she’s back, I won’t make the same mistake. Hurry up and sign the documents! 200 million dollars for two years of your worthless life. You should consider it a bargain."Dickson had always been skilled at hurting her with words. "A…n…d… What will happen if I don’t sign them?"Amanda asked. "Don’t even dare to test my temperance with this your godforsaken question. Anyways, I have ways of making you disappear. Legally or not, no one will notice." The air in the room hung heavy with tension as Amanda shakily rose from the floor. Her eyes, reddened from tears, met Dickson's, her heart pounding in her chest, her voice trembled. "I don’t care about that 200 million," Amanda declared, her words laced with a quiet defiance. The mention of 200 million dollars hung in the air, like a joke, satirising her passion for him. She drew a shaky breath, steadying herself before she spoke. "I won't sign the divorce papers, unless you grant me one last wish," she insisted, her voice still trembling, but now with a different approach. "You last wish?" he asked, a hint of impatience threading through his tone. She stepped forward, placed her white painted nails on his face and murmured quietly into his ears. " If you truly want me to sign the divorce letter and accept the 200 million dollar deal, you won't hesitate to follow me upstairs to your bedroom.” “Are you crazy at all Amanda? What relationship do I have with you that warrants me going to my bedroom?” he blurted out as he paved round in the sitting room trying to process what just came out from Amanda’s mouth. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as he considered the consequences of her plea. “If I were you,I would Just come upstairs and stop asking these dumb questions,Dickson" she whispered into his ears , her voice low and s*xy and her eyes bloodshot. 'I promise, you won't regret it and I'm sure Amelia won’t be happy if she finds me here. Your clock is ticking,Dickson.” She turned and headed upstairs, her steps light and sure. “f*ck!!!” he spat the word out with rage in his eyes. “ I had no idea that I was dealing with a smart woman over here.” he whispered to himself as he stood at the entrance of the stairs. Amanda, having ascended to the tenth step, pivoted on her heel to confirm whether Dickson was following suit. To her surprise, she discovered he lingered near the stairwell's entrance. Breaking his trance, she addressed him sternly, "Are you not joining me upstairs?" In his defence, he claimed “Can't you see that i’m right at the back of you?” “You better hasten up before that venom you call a wife, Amelia meets us here. I know that she hates me and I don't see myself having a discussion with her either.” She hissed at him. As he reached the top, he found himself in a dimly lit hallway. The scent of vanilla candles wafted through the air, adding an element of mystery to the atmosphere. The sound of his own heartbeat seemed to intensify as he approached the door she had disappeared behind. With a hesitant hand, Dickson pushed the door open and entered a room bathed in soft, golden light. The air was charged with anticipation. Amanda was standing by the window, her silhouette outlined by the moonlight filtering through the curtains. "Close the door, Dickson," she said without turning around. Her voice had lost its playful edge, now carrying a hint of vulnerability. He did as instructed, the latch clicking softly into place. The room felt like a sanctuary, a space isolated from the outside world where their fates might intertwine. "Why am I here?" Dickson asked, his voice a mixture of curiosity and confusion. Amanda turned to face him, her eyes searching for something he couldn't quite comprehend. "Because you're part of this now, Dickson. I want you to make out with me on this bed for the last time. I Want to have hot s*x with you as you moan my name. Look at me, Dickson. I’m your wife and I want you to call out my name while sleeping with me. . I’m still your wife. I am Amanda, not Amelia!” For the first time since she has known Dickson Amanda was screaming out of her lungs and furious with anger. But her heart was pleading for mercy as she looked at the man she has always loved. “Oh! stop the fake drama. Before,you dragged me up stairs with your evil act. I was busy with my newspaper downstairs and right now I want to continue with it.” Amanda bursted out with self–mocking laughter. “The news isn't running away. They can wait a little longer. If you feel like you’ve lost track of the news you can always catch up with it on their website online.” “Do what I said or not. Suit yourself. I don’t mind the narrative of what the media might say about me!” Dickson hated being threatened the most. His thin lips curled into a sneer. A few seconds later, he replied, “Fine, if that’s what you want Amanda then I’ll do it. But don’t you regret it, Amanda!” Dickson grabbed her a*s and moved it towards his erection. He held onto her silhouette and ripped it off violently .And then…her panties were torn apart. Dickson didn’t give her a warning before hurting her! “AH Ouch! Take it easy on me!” Amanda cried, shutting her eyes in pain! But, Dickson didn’t give her a listening ear . He was ruthless and cruel as ever. He never cared if it hurt her or not. Or maybe watching her suffer simply thrilled him! Good! Very excellent! She would remember this, remembering the man’s harshness to her for the rest of her life. “Amanda. Oh!, Amanda. The Queen Mother. Are you happy now?” He finally called her name as he got on top of her. Though it was quite a shame, she could finally get rid of the depression that dogged her for two entire years and the love she had for him went down the drain for the hatred that is about to be revived .Mindy"Why are you doing this?" I ask him.I'm lounging on the plush leather seat with my eyes closed, my heart still racing from the adrenaline rush earlier. The scent of cedarwood from Maron fills my nostrils, creating a strange combination of sensations."Doing what?" he asks.Is he playing dumb?My eyes flutter open and I turn to face him, taking in his defined jawline covered in rugged stubble. His posture is confident and commanding, oozing raw masculinity. Goddammit, this man must be the hottest creature on earth.And he's gazing directly at me."Doing what? Well, let me think. First, you scare the shit out of me by practically kidnapping me in the dead of night, then suddenly, you're all kind and caring, taking me to the hospital to see my mother.”
MindyMaron didn’t show up at New York High tonight.I'm standing on the stage, and I can't shake off this feeling of disappointment. Scratch that, it's more than just a feeling – it's a desire to sing to him and only to him. There is something incredibly hot about standing on stage with him watching me. The mere thought of it makes me feel that familiar tingling down below.Cut it out, Mindy, this is not the time!As the final notes of my last song fade away, the bar erupts into a smattering of drunken applause and wolf whistles. Shouts and slurred words fill the air, and the audience's intoxicated enthusiasm is on full display."Encore, encore!" one guy yells, raising his beer bottle in the air."Sing us another one, gorgeous!" another calls out, his words slightly muffled by the din of the crowd."You've got the voice of an angel, babe!" a third chimes in, his eyes glazed over by a mix of alcohol and admiration.
MindyI'm lying on the bed my head spinning.This morning, I sealed my fate. The contract Maron Korolev gave me lies in the glove compartment of my car; signed.It wasn't an impulsive decision. I had been mulling it over for the last few days and always came to the same conclusion: it’s the only way. The only way to save my family. Even if it means sacrificing myself and my dignity.So, I took a deep breath and put my name on the dotted line.Then, I hid the blue folder in my car's glove compartment till I can give it to Maron. I should feel happy, right? Like I just secured my future. But instead, I can't shake off this feeling of unease. Have I just sold my soul to the devil? Is this really my only chance to fix things and escape the guilt I’ve been carrying for years? And did I just willingly make myself Maron Korolev's sugar baby?I shut my eyes, attempting to slow my breathing. It's pointless. My thoughts continue to spin, l
Maron"Boss, you’re not going to believe this! The latest Tramoxine trials are off the charts." Igor, my head chemist, is practically bouncing with excitement at the other end of the telephone line.Igor is probably the most enthusiastic guy I know. He's been in the chemistry game for decades, but he still acts like a kid with his first matchbox set whenever he sees results from his research. He also seems to have the urge to share them with me immediately, which suits me. Especially with a project as important as Tramoxine.My ears perk up. "What are the numbers?""We're seeing a whopping 92% success rate in treating PTSD," Igor explains. "And that's not all - it's also proving to be a game changer for depression and anxiety disorders.""Otlichnaya rabota, Igor. That's very good," I say, allowing myself a small grin. "Any side effects?""We’re still looking into it, but nothing major so far," Igor reassures me.






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