Masuk“So you’re really going to marry that bastard,” Cristiano said hoarsely, fury lacing every word, “while you’re pregnant with my child?”Siena frowned, pain flashing across her face as she pushed herself off the bed. His eyes followed her every step, unblinking, as if she might vanish if he looked away for even a second. She stopped right in front of him.And then her hand rose, colliding with his cheek. The sound of the slap cracked through the room.“You’re always so selfish,” she whisper-yelled, her body shaking with anger and hurt. “You only ever think about yourself.”She glared at him, lips trembling, the light in her eyes dimming as she added in a low, broken tone, “And how do you even know it’s your child?”Cristiano closed his eyes, his jaw tightening as if fighting for control—but in the next heartbeat, he moved. Suddenly, he was too close. One hand locked around her waist while the other gripped the back of her neck, dragging her closer as he surged forward and crushed his l
The words landed like a gunshot.Silence swallowed the room.Cristiano’s smirk faded—slowly, dangerously—his eyes darkening with irritation as he looked at her, something feral and possessive igniting beneath the surface.Nikolai’s eyes snapped to his daughter. “What did you say?” he growled.Cristiano’s jaw clenched, his grip tightening around the guns, muscles coiling as if ready to strike.“I’m just saying…” Siena said, her voice unsteady but resolute. “For once, let’s do this the decent way—without guns and knives. You know it as well as I do, Papa. Cristiano Vitelli alone is enough to wipe out the entire Bratva. If you raise a gun at him, he will fire back.”Her voice broke slightly.“I don’t want to watch the people I love bleed. Please.”Nikolai narrowed his eyes at the Italian don. Cristiano remained unmoved—calm, unreadable, deadly. Nikolai knew exactly what the man before him was capable of. That knowledge gnawed at him, feeding the fear he despised. It was why he had wante
He stood there like death given form—devastatingly beautiful, his face carved with fury. Every line of his body was forged from steel, perfectly sculpted, radiating quiet, lethal danger. The muscles in his powerful arms bulged as his grip tightened around the guns in both hands, veins standing out beneath his skin.Siena couldn’t look away.He was Hades walking among plain, ordinary men—untouchable, merciless, inevitable.Then Viktor lifted his gun toward Cristiano Vitelli.Before his finger could even graze the trigger, a shot exploded from the weapon in Cristiano’s right hand. The bullet tore through Viktor’s palm, bone shattering as the gun flew from his grasp. A second shot followed instantly—from the gun in Cristiano’s left hand—ripping into his leg.Viktor screamed.His body crumpled to the floor in a broken heap, pain strangling the sound from his throat as blood spread beneath him.Cristiano stood alone, and no one was his match.With a gun in each hand, he moved like hell unl
But Siena had no interest in whatever deals had been discussed between her father and Fabio. None of it mattered to her.She looked at him calmly and asked the only question that came to mind.“What happened to Cristiano’s second marriage?” Her voice was steady, unreadable. “I didn’t hear anything about it after that day.”Fabio hesitated before answering. “I don’t know the details,” he admitted. “But there were rumors… his marriage didn’t happen that day for some reason. I’m not sure whether it was canceled or merely postponed.”Siena nodded slowly, lost in thought. “Hmm.”“Siena,” Fabio continued, frustration creeping into his voice, “your father doesn’t seem willing to accept me as his son-in-law, so… maybe we should—”He stopped when Siena lifted her hand in a calm, dismissive gesture. “I’m sleepy, Fabio. Let’s talk tomorrow.”She yawned, covering her mouth with her palm, and walked toward her bedroom, leaving him standing there with unfinished words and unanswered expectatio
When Siena returned to Moscow and stepped into the Baranov house, she wasn’t welcomed like a daughter who had finally come home.There were no tears. No open arms.Only quiet stares.Her mother, Natalya, stood a few feet away, studying Siena as if she were a stranger brought in for inspection rather than the child she had lost. Beside her were Siena’s younger sister and brother—curious, cautious, unsure how to feel about the woman who shared their blood but not their life.“You have your father’s eyes,” Natalya said finally, her voice calm but distant. “And… my face.”It wasn’t said with warmth. It was an observation. A fact.There was no denying it. Siena looked like them.Still, Nikolai Bravta—the Pakhan—ordered a DNA test. When the results came back as a match, he barely reacted. He only nodded once, as if confirming a business deal rather than reclaiming a daughter.“That proves blood,” he said. “Not loyalty.”Because Siena had lived among Italians, among enemies, suspicion follow
Lino was found bound and unconscious near a mall.It had been Siena’s plan.She didn’t need Elena’s help to leave the mansion. It wasn’t required—it was easy to get out when Cristiano’s most trusted man, Lino, was the one following her around. Elena had also refused to attend the wedding banquet as Soraya stayed back as well, so no one found it suspicious when Siena remained home— not even Vittorio.Later, Lino helped her slip out and reach the place where Fabio was waiting.From there, Siena was supposed to leave with Fabio… forever—away from her heartless husband.But she made sure Lino was rendered unconscious so no one would suspect him of helping her escape. Everything was carefully staged.From there, Siena had vanished with Fabio.“I don’t know anything,” Lino said, remorse lacing his voice. “She knocked me out—I don’t even remember how.”He was taken back to the mafia’s secret base and questioned about how Siena had escaped the Italian Mafia so easily.“You’re useless,” Vittor







