LOGINDaisy.
It was almost ten when I finished my rounds at work. Mariana was long gone (she leaves exactly at seven), so I spent most of the day alone. I grabbed my handbag and hurried to leave the center. There were two reasons for my rush: first, I was late, and second, I was trying to escape from someone. Thankfully, I hadn’t bumped into him during my hours at work—a first, as he always finds a way for us to encounter each other. Before I stepped out, I checked my table one last time to ensure I wasn’t forgetting anything. After confirming I had everything, I walked out of the office and looked around, letting out a breath of relief when I didn’t see the man who had been stalking me anywhere. I rushed toward the entrance, almost excited about leaving without 'him' bothering me when I heard someone call my name. I froze but didn’t turn around; I knew the voice all too well, and it belonged to the same person I was trying to avoid. What should I do? I thought, glancing at the entrance door just three steps away. I could step out and pretend I hadn’t heard him, but knowing Thomas, he wouldn’t let me leave just like that. With little choice, I turned around and saw him walking toward me with his hands in his pants pockets. Even from a distance, I could sense the pride radiating from him—one of the many things I despised about him. He’s too fucking prideful. “What do you want, Dr. Thomas?” I asked. Thomas Owen was a thirty-year-old pediatric cardiologist at the center. Because of his high position, he believed everyone should bow to him, and when he was around, nobody else should speak except him. He had been trying to get me to go on a date for over a year, but I always refused. I had too much going on in my life to add an arrogant jerk to the mix, and besides, dating wasn’t a priority for me right now. He pulled his right hand from his pocket and ran it through his hair. His brown eyes flicked between mine and the bags in my hands, and for a moment, I thought I saw his smile falter. “You’re leaving?” he asked, bringing his gaze back to my face. “Yes, Dr. Thomas,” I answered, my tone weary and disinterested. “Already?” he replied, muttering something I couldn’t quite hear under his breath. “Is there something I can do for you, Dr. Thomas?” I prompted again. He should just get straight to the point and stop wasting my time. “I… I was wondering if you would like to go out with me tonight?” he stuttered, quickly clearing his throat before continuing. “I know you’ve had a long day at the hospital, but I would really like it if you could join me for dinner.” I glanced at the time and groaned; I was going to be super late if I didn’t wrap this up quickly. I took a deep breath and gave him the same answer I had been providing for over a year. “I’m sorry, Dr. Thomas, but I’m going to pass on your offer.” He frowned. “Do you still have something to do today?” he asked, bringing up my past excuse. I nodded. “Yes, in fact, I was supposed to be there ten minutes ago, so I’m running late. If there’s nothing else you want to say, then I should leave.” I turned and began walking away, not allowing him to say anything further. Knowing Thomas, he would try to convince me to have dinner with him all night, and I had no time for that. I stopped by the walkway to check the time again—only six minutes left until I resumed. I wondered if I could make it home, change, and head to the club on time. A cab stopped in front of me. “Where are you going, pretty lady?” the cab driver asked with a smirk. I scowled at him and walked away without answering. Men like this are the reason why some women hate going outside; they think they can prey on women just because they feel superior. Superior, my ass! All they need is a woman to put them in their place. With no spare money for a cab, I had no choice but to walk home. The walk from work to my house usually takes thirty minutes, but there’s a shortcut that gets me there in just twenty. I hate taking shortcuts, but in this case, I had no other option. I held my bag tightly as I turned right into a dark alleyway, looking around as I walked and pulling my bag closer to myself. The last thing I wanted was to get my belongings stolen. Although I didn’t have much in there, what I had was enough to last me for the week. As I ventured deeper, I noticed the streets were empty. The only time I had used the shortcut before was once, and I could vividly recall being attacked by some bad men then. But tonight felt different. The street was eerily quiet, and as I walked, I could hear my footsteps echoing. For a moment, I paused and glanced around, narrowing my eyes. What on earth is going on? Feeling increasingly uneasy when no one appeared, I decided to retrace my steps and get far away from this place as soon as possible. As I prepared to turn around, something—or someone—caught my eye. Just before I turned, a figure rushed out from a building, catching my attention. The figure was lean, so I guessed it was a man as he ran straight toward me. Any normal person in this situation would have started running without waiting to find out what was happening, but I wasn’t normal. I stood there, watching and waiting, as the man got closer. Only when he was standing right in front of me did I recognize his whole face was bloodied and the silver metal in his hand. At that moment, my legs finally reacted, but it was already too late. The next thing I felt was the cold metal pressed against my head, accompanied by hot breath that reeked of alcohol. “I’m… I’m going to shoot her if you take a step forward!” the man yelled, his hand shaking as he spoke. I frowned, wondering who he was addressing because I certainly knew he wasn’t talking to me. Just then, as if summoned, another man walked out of the same building, his hands in his pants pockets and a lit cigar in his mouth. He seemed unfazed when his eyes met mine, then slowly glanced down at the gun pointed at my head. He let out a scoff and stopped about ten feet away from us. “I… I really mean it. I… will shoot her if you take another step!” the lean man threatened, but the other man didn’t seem to move. I felt something warm soaking into my dress from behind, but I didn’t dare move with the gun pressed deeper against my head. My eyes returned to the man, and I took a good look at him. He was tall and muscular, with hair falling over the right side of his face. His eyes locked onto mine, and I shivered; there was something soulless about them. His eyes had nothing in them, making me wonder what type of person he was. He didn’t break eye contact as he pulled his hand from his pocket, held his cigarette, and took a drag. Slowly, he exhaled the white smoke, smirking as he stepped forward. “I… I mean it!” the lean man yelled behind me, snapping me back to the present. The lean man gripped me tighter, pulling me into him as he took a step backward, and I let out a shaky breath. This was getting serious. Was that other man really not going to do anything? I glanced back at him again—not pleadingly, because I knew my predicament was partly his doing. He should fix this. “Do it,” he said, his voice calm and bored as he took another drag from his cigarette. What the hell!Alexandra. “What’s his name?” Adriano asked, and I could see it in his eyes. He was eager to know who this man was; he wanted to understand who I was tied to. “Please, baby. Tell me the name of the man who thought it was acceptable to have a child bride. Give me the name of the man who thinks he can crawl out from whatever hole he’s been hiding in and take what is mine.” My heart flipped with excitement. Years ago, I would have despised anyone calling me theirs and wanting to own me. But with Adriano, it was different. I craved him to claim me more; I wanted him to scream it from the mountaintops so everyone would know I belonged to him. “His name is Igor Moroz,” I answered without hesitation. I had learned his name after years of running away. When I was informed about the wedding, I had no idea who he was, but now I did. I had searched for him online and found horrific things. “Igor Moroz?” he asked, deep in thought. He took out his phone and began typing, and I watched, wo
Alexandra. I waited for him to react differently, but aside from letting out a few profanities, nothing came. I had been staring at the floor since I said that and hadn’t found the courage to look up at him. “You told Mariana but not me.” He said it as if I had deliberately chosen to confide in her instead of him, as if I had betrayed him deeply. “Look, Mariana is my best friend, and this was eating me alive. I wanted someone to advise me. I had no one else to turn to; she was the only one available, so I told her about it,” I explained, finally lifting my gaze to meet his. He was scowling, but he still looked incredibly handsome. “Do you want to hear why I did this or not?” I asked impatiently. I was tired of his silence. If he wanted to hear my reasons—or better yet, my side of the story—he should make that clear now. If not, he should also say something. He stared at me for a moment before nodding his head. “Fine, I would like to know why you couldn’t tell me you are eng
Alexandra. I knew one day, one of these days, he was going to find out about this. But I’d thought it would be from me, not from someone. Why?Why do things never go as planned for me? I was supposed to tell him tonight, to make him see why I didn’t want to marry that old bastard, but now he’s found out, and it wasn’t from me. I blinked continuously as I tried thinking of the right words to use. He was waiting for an answer, which meant that he wasn’t mad, right? He came back to get the answers from me without making excuses. “I want you to tell me, word for word.” He added as the silence drew. I inhaled sharply and squeezed my hand beside me. I didn’t know where to start. Yes, I had planned to tell him everything tonight, but right now, after being hit with his sudden question, words were failing me. “I… I…” I stuttered. I tried taking a deep breath to calm my racing heart, but it was futile. Nothing was working; I couldn’t concentrate. “I want you to tell me whether it’s
Adriano. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible. That’s what I have been telling myself over and over these past few minutes: he just dropped whatever this shit was. He was only saying this to make me give her up, and there’s no way in hell I’m doing such a thing. “She didn’t tell you, did she?” He asked, his face now all smiles as he looked at me. “You know you don’t have to say it for me to know she hasn’t told you about this.” He paused as he looked from me to my brother and then at me again. “I’m not surprised though; this is my niece we are talking about, and she has always been a lying bitc—” I snapped. “Don’t you dare complete your sentence, Romanov,” I warned. I was tired of sitting down here and doing nothing but watching him call her names. I couldn’t stay composed like Luciano wanted, and I certainly don’t think I could leave here unscathed like I’d promised Alexandra. I’d expected him to react the normal way a boss would when they’re feel
Alexandra. I placed the last dish on the table and moved back a bit to stare at my creation. It was perfect. All I have to do now is go get ready, have a shower, and change into something nice for tonight. The idea of coming to Adriano's house came while Mariana and I were busy getting lunch done today. I thought telling him in a more private place would be the best thing to do; hence, I chose his house. Mariana was over the moon when I told her about my plan; she quickly arranged for a few guards to help me get to Adriano's house. It was just the same way I left; in fact, it felt like no one had stepped into the place since I left. It felt cold empty and was missing Adriano’s touch. I gave myself a little tour of the house before coming back downstairs to prepare dinner. My heart wouldn’t stop beating fast the more I anticipated his arrival. He was taking long, and that fueled my worries. After the conversation I had with Mariana, she insisted that I tell him about it, somethi
Adriano. The air was tense. Everything sounded right, but at the same time, it seemed stupid to me. What the fuck does he mean by I have something that belonged to him? And what the fuck does he mean by his niece? “I don’t understand you; what do you mean by that?” Luc said, breaking the silence that had enveloped us for over twenty minutes. It took a long time for Romanov to answer his question; he drew from the cigar one of his minions lit up for him and blew the smoke out—practically on our faces. “Your brother knows exactly what I’m talking about.” Of course I know. I have linked everything in my head. There was indeed a big power backing up Alexandra’s file. I always wondered why it was so difficult to get her information and everything concerning her past, but it was all useless. It all makes sense now that I’m just finding out he’s the uncle—the one behind her disappearing information. We both had a stare-down, and no one was backing out; it certainly wouldn’t be me. He







