Chapter 6

Vasily Pov

The world froze.

Isabella’s voice, so sweet and pure, cut through the haze of lust and desperation. My mind, a maelstrom of conflicting desires, reeled back. I broke away from Adrian, my chest heaving, my eyes wide with a terror I hadn’t felt since I first took control of the Mafia. Adrian was a storm, but Isabella was a reality I had a duty to uphold.

Adrian took a step back, his face a fake practiced indifference. The wildness that had been in his eyes was gone, replaced by a cool, almost mocking, calm. He ran a hand over his hair, smoothing it back into place, and I felt a fresh wave of fury. He had no right to be so composed, so unaffected. My entire world was shattering, and he looked like he was just finishing a pleasant conversation.

"Vasily?" she called again, her voice closer now.

I took a deep breath, forcing my heart to slow its frantic rhythm. I schooled my features into the cold, impenetrable mask I wore every day. The Don, a man of granite and ice, did not panic. The Don did not get caught.

Adrian had a polite, practiced smile on his face. "Isabella," he said, his voice a smooth. "Everything is fine. Vasily was just leaving."

Her gaze swept over him, then settled on me. Her smile faltered, a slight frown touching her brow. "I was just wondering if everything was okay. You both left the table so suddenly. Did something happen?"

The question was so simple, so painfully naive, that it felt like a physical blow. The unspoken subtext hung heavy in the air. Do you not like my brother? Is something wrong between you?

"Everything is fine, Isabella," Adrian said, his tone dismissive. He didn’t wait for my response. He simply walked past her and headed back to the dining room, the arrogant swagger of a man who had no idea what he had done to me.

I watched him go, a knot of frustration and rage tightening in my stomach. He was a poison, a constant, buzzing sound in my brain. He had no right to be this calm, this composed, this… perfect. He had no right to walk away from the chaos he had created and leave me here to clean up the mess.

"Vasily?" Isabella’s voice was soft, concerned. "You don't like Adrian, do you? I know he can be a bit… much. But you have to be patient with him. He's my twin. We're very close."

I stared at her, the sweet, trusting look on her face making my chest ache with a bitter mix of guilt and shame. She had no idea. She was an innocent lamb, and I was a wolf in the shepherd’s clothing. How could I tell her the truth? How could I tell her that the man she was about to marry had just betrayed her with her twin brother? I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. The lie was the only thing I had left to protect her from the monster I had become.

"Patience is a virtue I rarely possess, Isabella," I said, my voice a low, gravelly rasp. "I will manage."

I walked past her, my mind a blur. The rest of the night was a dark fog. I sat at the table, my body a statue, my mind miles away. I smiled, I nodded, I made the appropriate comments. But inside, I was a stranger in my own skin, a cold, hollow rage building just beneath the surface. I was a man on a mission, a mission I wanted to fail. I wanted to turn back, to hide, to pretend none of this was happening. But I couldn't. I was a man of duty.

The car ride back to the Petrov Estate was silent. Nikolai, my loyal consigliere, was a quiet presence in the car. He knew me. He knew I was a man of total control, a man who never let his emotions cloud his judgment. He knew this wasn't me.

As soon as I entered my office, I felt a new wave of chaos. My mind, strom of conflicting emotions, was a battlefield. I was a Don who could command armies, but I couldn’t control my own thoughts. I was a man of absolute power, but I couldn’t stop thinking about another man. A man who was my future brother-in-law, a man I despised, a man I couldn’t stop craving.

The office was a show to my power. But it was a hollow comfort. .

I walked to the window, my gaze fixed on the lights of Moscow below. My city, my empire, a cold, hollow comfort. The city that was supposed to be mine, felt alien to me. I was a man on a mission, a mission to destroy the man who had ruined me. But what if the man who had ruined me was the man I wanted to protect? What then?

My thoughts were cut short by the sound of my phone ringing. It was Dmitri. I debated ignoring the call, but my duty as a Don forced me to answer.

"Dmitri," I said, my voice clipped. "What do you want?"

"Vasily," he said, his voice a low, silky drawl. "We have a problem. One of our men, Andrei, was caught with a rival mafia. He was giving them information about our operations. We have a rat."

The news was a physical blow. A rat. In my organization. The rage I felt turned into a burning fury. A rat. A traitor. Someone I had trusted had betrayed me. My anger, a raging inferno, had no outlet, so it turned on them. They were an easy target.

"Find him," I ordered, my voice a low, dangerous whisper. "I want him brought to me. And I want the name of the man who hired him."

"We're on it," Dmitri said, his voice returning to its normal cadence. "But you should know, Vasily, Andrei was very close to one of your closest confidants."

The words were a direct challenge. I knew what he was implying. He was implying that Nikolai, my loyal consigliere, was the rat. It was a vicious, cruel liet.

I ended the call, my mind filled with conflicting emotions. A rat. A traitor. Someone I had trusted had betrayed me. The rage I felt was a raw, primal thing, a need to destroy, to obliterate, to erase the very memory of the man who had betrayed me.

My gaze fell upon a photograph on my desk, a picture of Isabella and Adrian. I had never noticed it before. Adrian's eyes, a dark, knowing mirror of my own, were filled with a mockery I couldn't understand. A desire, a need, a longing I have never felt before, tears through me. I reached out, my fingers tracing the outline of his face. He was a dangerous addiction, a poison I couldn't stop craving.

A sudden, fierce need coursed through me, a raw, primal desire that I hadn't felt in weeks. My hands trembled as I undid my pants, my erection a solid, aching thing. I hadn’t been this hard in a long time. Not with the beautiful women I had slept with. Not even with Isabella, whose innocence and beauty had left me cold and unresponsive. Only Adrian. Only the thought of him, of his lips on mine, the feel of his body against mine, the taste of smoke and him on my tongue.

I thought of his face, his mocking smile, his dark, knowing eyes. The memory of his lips on mine, a punishing, desperate, hungry kiss. A raw, demanding passion that matched mine. I thought of the way his hands had come up to my face, his fingers threading through my hair, pulling me closer. I thought of the way I was lost, completely lost in the moment, in the feel of his lips on mine, the taste of smoke and him on my tongue.

I came, my sperm filling my hand and the desk. I am a Don who is doing this to an innocent soul. I am disgusted with myself, a Don of a family who is doing this to an innocent soul. But I have no choice. I am a man of duty. And now I knew I was truly fucked. I was a man of duty, a man of control, but Adrian Volkov, with his dark eyes and his mocking smile, was a dangerous addiction, a poison I couldn't stop craving.