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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







