Mag-log inNora's POVI wake up to a pounding headache, the kind that throbs behind my eyes like a drumbeat I can’t escape. The room swims into focus slowly—the massive king-sized bed with its black sheets, the high ceilings, the balcony doors letting in slivers of morning light. My body feels heavy, like I’ve been running a marathon in my sleep, and as I shift, the memories flood back: the confrontation at the hospital, Elena’s tears, Caleb’s face when Mikhail revealed the truth about him being Lucien’s son, the way everything shattered in that moment. I remember backing away from Caleb, the betrayal hitting me like a physical blow, and then the world tilting, darkness swallowing me whole.I sit up slowly, propping myself on my elbows, and that’s when I see him—Elias, sitting in the chair beside the bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He looks dejected, defeated, like the weight of the world has crushed him. His hair is messy, eyes red-rimmed from crying or lack of sleep or both. H
Nora’s POVI wake up alone again.He hadn't come home last night.The bed feels too big without him in it, the black sheets cold where his body should be. Sunlight cuts through the blinds in sharp white lines, turning the room into a cage of light and shadow. I sit up slowly, pulling the sheet around me like armor. Yesterday's events all come crashing down on me—the date, down to finding out Ingrid had escaped, to which I had no idea he had her . God, I feel so...used, and dumb, like I'm just being kept in the dark like a child. Tossing the sheets away, I stand up and head into the bathroom.The roses downstairs are starting to wilt, petals dropping like accusations. Everything he gives me feels like a leash disguised as a gift.I shower fast, scalding water pounding my skin, trying to wash him off. It doesn’t work. His scent is in the shampoo, the soap, the towels—cedar and smoke and him. I step out, wrap myself in one of his shirts (too big, sleeves falling past my hands) a
Mikhail's POVWe leave the fairgrounds faster than I planned.The fireworks are still popping overhead when Aleksei’s call comes through—short, clipped, furious.“She’s gone.”Two words.That’s all it takes to turn the night from magic back to ash.I hang up without a word.Nora’s hand is still in mine, cotton candy sugar sticking to her fingers, stuffed panda tucked under her arm. She’s laughing at something I said thirty seconds ago, cheeks flushed from the cold air and the adrenaline of bumper cars. The sound dies when she sees my face.“Mikhail?”I don’t answer.I just pull her toward the parking lot, stride long, grip tight.She stumbles to keep up.“What’s wrong?”I don’t answer that either.The Maybach is waiting where we left it. Dmitri is already behind the wheel, engine running. He knows. They all know. The second Aleksei called, every man in my network snapped to attention.I open the passenger door for Nora.“Get in.”She hesitates.“Mikhail—”“Now.”S
Nora’s POVMuch to my utmost surprise, Mikhail takes us to a funfair.I swear this man keeps confusing me in ways I never deemed possible.THE MIKHAIL ROMANOV, Russian mafia don and billionaire CEO, at a freaking funfair.It was already late in the evening by the time we get there. And I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t excited. The last time I’d been at a funfair was a few years back with my parents when they were still alive. They always made it a tradition to take Elias and I to the city’s funfair at any given chance. I guess that tradition died after they were gone as I became only focused on surviving and keeping my brother alive and clean. So imagine my surprise when I saw the bright lights and ferris wheel in view while in the car. I simply couldn’t hide my excitement and turned to face him.“Wait…We’re attending the funfair? Are you for real?” I ask in excitement. He simply nods in response. He finds a suitable spot to park, given that there were dozens of cars here,
MIKHAIL’S POVAfter we finish, we lie still in silence next to each other before I stand up and head into the bathroom, grab a bowl of water and a washcloth, and head back into the bedroom to clean her up.Slowly and reverently, I glide the warm cloth over her skin, erasing the remnants of us both. She’s still trembling slightly, body soft and pliant, eyes half-lidded in the low light. I wipe in between her thighs, her stomach, the gentle curve between her breasts, causing her to sigh slighty but she avoids my gaze…like she’s ashamed of herself. The thought causes a slight pang in my chest, but I say nothing.When I finish, I set the bowl aside, pull the sheets away, and slide back into the bed, lying on her side so I can see her face.She turns away immediately, turning her back to me and clutching the duvet tighter. She curls into herself on the far edge of the bed when I touch her slightly. The rejection lands like a quiet blow, but I don’t push.After a long, unbearable silence, I
🔞🔞🔞🔞🔥🔥🔥🔥 Mikhail’s POV – Hospital I make sure Dmitri has Nora safely in the SUV before I turn back toward the private ward. The tracker on my phone shows the vehicle pulling away smoothly—safe, for now. She’s mine to protect, even if she hates every second of it. The corridor feels longer on the return trip, the fluorescent lights harsher, buzzing like the fury already simmering under my skin. I push open the door to the waiting room, and the scene hits me like a fist to the throat. Elena is there, arms wrapped around Andrei, both seated on the stiff waiting-room couch. She’s crying softly, face buried in his shoulder, while he murmurs low, comforting words, one hand stroking her hair. The sight snaps something inside me—hot, vicious, uncontrollable. I storm forward, teeth clenched, rage boiling like acid in my veins. “What the fuck are you still doing here, Elena?” I demand, voice low but edged with venom. Andrei’s head snaps up. He stands immediately, pulling Elena