MasukLev Dmitri Romanov's Point of View We talk for hours—catching me up on everything the Romanovs have been through in the five years I wasn’t in control. Same as always. The business runs just like it always has. My father’s still hooked on his colosseum betting games, and Owen’s become his favorite plaything. I want to apologize to him—but he’s not the same boy I rescued back then. He’s strong now, just like Mara. I should feel guilty, but I can’t. I’m still as cold as stone. Gaps still litter my memories, pieces of the past I can’t quite reach. I want to talk to my alters—ask them what I’ve forgotten, share the burden with my brother like we should have all along. But there’s still a wall between my present and the pain I’ve buried deep. They hold my trauma for a reason—they won’t fade until I face what I’ve been running from. Until I accept that they’re part of me. Mara cooks us a meal, but I can’t bring myself to face her. I need t
Lev Dmitri Romanov's Point of View Confusion slams into me the moment I surface from sleep. Mara’s on the floor, half-dressed, a faint white sheen tracing her lips and jaw. Heat floods my body as the pieces click into place. Fuck. I didn’t dream of this reunion—not after years trapped in my own head. What in hell led us here? Why is she kneeling before me like this? I want to ask a thousand things, but the words die in my throat. The air between us is thick, charged with need I can barely contain. My gaze drinks her in—those wide eyes I’ve ached to see, the sharp line of her nose, hair as dark and silk as I remembered, skin smooth as porcelain. I’ve missed every inch of her. I don’t know how much time has passed. I don’t care. All that matters is finishing what was started. I stand from the bed’s edge, stop in front of her, and pull her to her feet. Before she can react, I guide her onto the mattress. “What are yo
Lev Dmitri Romanov's Point of ViewI wake to a white ceiling staring back at me. For a long moment, I just lie there, not moving. I know I’m safe—Psikh was the last face I saw before darkness pulled me under.Fuck.I cover my eyes with my arm, still reeling. Everything feels like it’s spinning too fast to process.It’s real. All those suspicions I’ve spent years pushing away, denying… they were true after all. Our past trauma didn’t just fade—it took root and grew into something I can’t ignore anymore.What about Psikh? Does he deal with this too? Has he ever watched his body move on its own, controlled by someone else inside his head?I run my hands over my face and force myself up. Every muscle aches, my head throbs—but nothing like the searing pain from before.“Don’t let Levi to wake up, he might take away your current life. And there’s no one who can heal his longing for our mother.”The words echo in my mind, stopping me cold.Who is Levi? Is he like the one who took control yes
WARNING: This chapter contains sensitive content. Reader discretion is advised.Lev Dmitri Romanov's Point of ViewThree weeks have passed. Five days left until I wrap up my job and head back to Russia. It’s dirty work—honestly, the kind that’ll destroy everything Mara knows.But I have no choice. This is who I am. This is what I do.Another morning finds me on the same bench, talking with Mang Pancho. He’s the one who never tires of chatting whenever I show up here. I know he’s full of questions, but he’s not the kind to push. He waits patiently for me to open up on my own—and I never will. The more lies I spin, the harder it gets to keep up the act.“That’s how it was!” He roars with laughter. “I was deadly at tumbang-preso when I was young—my friends were terrified of me because I never missed my throw!”We’re talking about his childhood. I don’t fully understand the game he’s describing, but from the details—slippers and a can—I gather it involves knocking something over. It’s eas
WARNING: This chapter contains mature language and themes. Reader discretion is advised. Lev Dmitri Romanov’s Point of View Power, dignity, family. Those are what our father held sacred above all else. But “family” didn’t mean us—not me, not Psikh, not our mother who’s gone now. It meant the Romanov Mafia Family, a name he valued more than his wife, his sons, his own flesh and blood. Years of serving the Romanovs have taught me skills most men would shudder to learn. I can dismember a body, bury it in minutes, dissolve it in toxins. All for the sake of killing. I know my way around every kind of gun, but knives are my passion. As a boy, I dreamed of protecting myself and others with one—sounded pretty cool, didn’t it? But that dream wasn’t meant for me. I became a master with blades all right, but I’m no superhero. I’m more like the villain in the story, the one who does terrible things and feels nothing for it. Or do I?
WARNING: This chapter contains mature content not suitable for young readers. Please read at your own discretion. Marimar Oquendo’s Point of View “Uhmm! Ohh! Hnngh! Mmmph!” Each sound tore from my lips as his fingers glided through my folds, never slowing even as our kiss deepened into something wild and consuming. “A—aughhmp!” A sharp cry burst from me mid-kiss as his long finger slid inside me, easy as silk thanks to how wet I was. God—even just his fingers feel this good. I couldn’t decide where to focus—on the digit moving in and out of me, or his lips exploring every inch of my mouth. It was intoxicating, dizzying in its pleasure. I jolted as he quickened his pace, pushing deeper before adding a second finger. I felt them curl inside me, stroking a spot I didn’t even know existed until it sent shivers through my entire body. I clung to his shoulders so hard my knuckles ached—one more thrust and I’d collapse f







