LOGINMikhail’s POV
The SUV hummed through the city streets, the engine’s low growl the only sound breaking the suffocating silence. Nora sat plastered against the far door, her body rigid, as if touching the leather seat next to me would poison her. Her bag clutched in her lap like a shield, her eyes fixed on the blurring skyline outside. It irritated me—more than it should. I wasn’t used to being treated like a leper, especially not by a woman I’d just pulled into my world. Her defiance from the apartment still lingered, a spark that both annoyed and intrigued me. But this? This childish avoidance grated on my nerves. “I don’t bite, you know,” I said, my voice casual, laced with that cocky edge I knew would rile her. “You can sit comfortably.” She whipped her head around, those dark eyes flashing like daggers. “Sit comfortably with you? A cold-hearted killer? You literally kidnapped me!” I chuckled, leaning back, arms spread across the seat. “No, I didn’t. You’re simply paying the price for your brother’s foolishness. Which, need I remind you, you agreed to.” Aleksei caught my eye in the rearview mirror from the passenger seat, his expression a mix of amusement and warning. He’d been quiet since we left her rundown apartment, but I could see him watching the exchange, probably thinking I was playing with fire. Nora didn’t disappoint—she fired back, venom dripping from every word. “An agreement I had no choice in! You were about to kill my brother, you bastard!” I felt my jaw tick, but I kept the smirk in place. “I’d watch that snarky attitude if I were you.” She opened her mouth, no doubt ready with another barb, but then clamped it shut, turning back to the window. The tension thickened, her silence louder than any shout. Aleksei glanced at me again through the mirror, shaking his head subtly. I ignored him. The city lights streaked by, the drive stretching into an eternity of unspoken fury. Her presence filled the car—her scent, faint and clean, cutting through my cologne; her rigid posture a constant reminder of the fight she was waging. It stirred something in me, a dark thrill. She hated me, and I found myself wanting to push her more, to see how far that fire could burn. Finally, we pulled into the underground garage of my penthouse, the doors sealing us in with a hydraulic hiss. Aleksei got out first, opening her door with a neutral nod. She hesitated, then stepped out, clutching her bag like it was her last tether to freedom. I followed, my coat swirling as I led the way to the private elevator. The ride up was another layer of silence, her standing as far from me as the confined space allowed. When the doors opened to the sprawling living room—marble floors, panoramic views of the waking city—she froze, her eyes widening at the opulence. It was a far cry from her cramped apartment, and I savored the flicker of awe she tried to hide. “Aleksei,” I said, shrugging off my coat and tossing it over a chair. “Take her to the guest room. The one down the hall.” He nodded, gesturing for her to follow. She shot me a glare, pure hatred burning in those eyes, but she kept her mouth shut—surprising, given her earlier fire. As they walked away, I called after her, “Get some rest, Фурия. We have business to attend to later.” She didn’t respond, but her stiff shoulders and the way she avoided looking back said enough. Aleksei led her off, and I poured myself a scotch, the amber liquid swirling in the glass. Business. That’s what this was—repayment, control. But her presence already felt like more, a complication I hadn’t anticipated. Her tears back at the apartment, her pleas... they’d cracked something in me, just a hairline fracture. I downed the drink, shoving the thought aside. She was a challenge, nothing more. A few hours later, Aleksei and I were deep in discussion in the living room, glasses of scotch in hand. The theft at the warehouse was just the tip—rival crews were sniffing around, testing boundaries. “We need to tighten security,” Aleksei said, his voice low. “Elias and his idiots found a weak spot. Others will too.” I nodded, swirling my glass. “Double the guards. And find out who those gang members were that pressured him. I want them—” A throat cleared behind us. I turned, and there she was. Nora stood at the edge of the room, fresh from a shower, dressed in a baggy pajama top and shorts that rode high on her smooth, toned legs. Her hair was tied in a messy ponytail, strands framing her delicate face, giving her an effortless allure that hit me like a gut punch. My eyes traced her legs involuntarily, the curve of her thighs, the way the fabric clung just enough. Then up to her face—those full lips, the fire still simmering in her eyes. She looked vulnerable, yet unbreakable. I was entranced, my thoughts scattering, the scotch forgotten in my hand. She snapped her fingers. “Eyes up here, asshole.” I blinked, pulling my gaze to hers, irritation flaring at being caught. Aleksei smirked into his glass, but I ignored him. “What do you want?” I asked, voice rougher than intended. “I need to talk to my brother,” she said, arms crossed, pushing her chest up slightly—damn her. “I left my phone at home in the rush. Because of you.” I set my glass down, standing slowly. “You’ll contact him later. During the day.” “No,” she insisted, stepping forward, her bare feet silent on the marble. “Now. I’m worried about him. He may have made dumb decisions, but he’s still my brother. He’s all I’ve got. Please, let me know he’s safe.” Aleksei glanced at me, his expression shifting. “Let her talk to him, Mikhail. She’s here to work for you, not as a hostage.” “Well, there’s no plain difference considering the circumstances,” she sassed, her eyes locked on mine. Aleksei’s patience snapped. “Will you be quiet for once, huh?!” The tension spiked, the room electric. I rose, closing the distance between us in a few strides. She backed up instinctively, her breath hitching as her back hit the wall. I towered over her, her scent—fresh soap and something uniquely her—filling my senses. She stared up at me, holding her breath, her eyes wide but defiant. The air crackled, my pulse quickening at the proximity. I could feel the heat from her body, see the pulse fluttering in her neck. “I don’t appreciate you commanding me,” I said, voice low, dangerous. “You have no idea what I’m truly capable of. Be grateful I let your brother live. Grateful I gave you an option at all.” She snarled, unflinching despite the fear I saw flicker. “I’d rather eat shit than bend to your demands.” I smirked, leaning in closer, my lips brushing her ear. Her shiver ran through her, a tremor that sent a jolt straight through me. “We’ll see about that, kotenok,” I whispered, my breath hot against her skin. She held her breath, her body tensing, but I backed away, the moment hanging heavy. Aleksei watched, his cold expression unchanging. I straightened my shirt, masking the rush. “Aleksei, give her a burner phone. One day only. For her brother. If I find out you called anyone else,” I said, eyes locking on hers, “you’ll be sorry.” She nodded, hatred burning in her gaze, but she didn’t argue. I turned, slinging my coat over my shoulder, and headed up the stairs to my bedroom. Her glare bored into my back, a tangible heat. I loved it—the fight, the tension. She was a wildfire, and I was drawn to the flames, even if they burned. In my room, I stripped off my shirt, the cool air hitting my skin. The encounter replayed—her legs, her defiance, that shiver. Six months. Plenty of time to break her... or let her break me. Nora’s POV. The burner phone felt heavy in my hand, a cheap flip model Aleksei had tossed me with a grunt. Mikhail had vanished upstairs, his presence still lingering like a shadow. I retreated to the guest room, the door clicking shut behind me. The space was luxurious—king bed, silk sheets, a view that mocked my old life—but it felt like a prison. I dialed Elias’s number with trembling fingers, the line ringing endlessly before he picked up. “Nora?” His voice cracked, raw with guilt and fear. Tears pricked my eyes. “Elias. Are you okay?” “I’m... I’m fine. They left after you did. Nora, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—” “Save it,” I snapped, but my voice softened. “Just... stay safe. Stay clean. I’ll handle this.” “How? With him? Nora, he’s dangerous.” “I know,” I whispered, glancing at the door. “But you’re all I’ve got. I love you, idiot.” “I love you too. Be careful.” The call ended, the silence deafening. I clutched the phone, hatred for Mikhail boiling anew. He’d pay. Somehow. Nora’s POV – Hospital LobbyI can’t stay in that waiting room another second.The air is too thick, too charged with Elena’s presence, with the way she looked at me—like she expected forgiveness after two years of silence. Like her tears could erase the nights I cried alone, wondering why my best friend abandoned me when I needed her most.I mutter something to Mikhail about needing air and slip out before anyone can stop me.The lobby is quieter, colder. Rows of plastic chairs, a coffee machine humming in the corner, the occasional beep from a monitor echoing down the hall. I find a seat near the window, away from the main flow of people, and sink into it, knees pulled to my chest again like I’m trying to make myself small enough to disappear.My hands shake.My chest hurts.I’m so angry I could scream.At Elena.At Andrei for bringing her.At myself for letting it hurt this much.At Mikhail for dragging me here in the first place.The minutes stretch.I stare at the fl
Nora's POVI tangled up in his arms for a while as we console each other. My thoughts keep spiralling after his breakdown. I never thought I'd see someone as strong THE Mikhail Romanov cry real tears. All my life he has always portrayed himself to be this untouchable , inhumane man that I swore to hate for the rest of my life. But seeing him like that changed a switch in me. I still have to figure out what had happened last night, especially with the wound on his arm. It was definitely a gunshot wound, I'm not stupid to not notice that. He stirs behind me before sitting up on the bed.“Freshen up,” he says, voice steady again. “We’re going out.”I stare.“Out?”He nods.“Breakfast first. Then shopping. Then the hospital.”“The hospital?”“My father,” he says quietly. “He’s in a coma. Shot. Five percent chance.”My heart drops.“I’m sorry.”He looks at me. I'm tempted to ask what had happened to him last night, but I keep quiet instead. He probably wouldn't tell me
Nora’s POV The door swung open with a heavy creak, and there he stood—Mikhail Romanov, framed in the threshold like a spectre from my darkest dreams. His presence filled the room instantly, sucking the air from my lungs, leaving me gasping in the vacuum. He looked ravaged, his once-impeccable shirt crumpled and stained with dark, crusted blood, especially around his arm where the fabric clung sticky and wet. His shoulders sagged under an invisible weight, his eyes hollow, devoid of the spark that had always made them so dangerously alive. He staggered forward, the movement unsteady, like a man carrying the world on his back, and for a split second, my heart twisted—not with fear, but with a pang of concern that I hated myself for feeling.I bolted upright from the bed, my legs unsteady beneath me as I crossed the room in a rush. “Mikhail, what happened?” The words tumbled out before I could stop them, my voice a mix of terror and something softer, something I didn’t want to name. He
Nora's POVI don’t sleep.I sit on the edge of the bed, back against the headboard, knees pulled to my chest, staring at the locked door like it might open and set me free.It doesn’t. The room is too quiet. Too perfect.Too much like a cage designed just for me.Black silk sheets still rumpled from where I thrashed in them.The faint scent of his cologne clings to everything.I hate it.I hate how it calms me even when I’m screaming inside.I hate how my body remembers the weight of him on this bed.How my skin remembers his hands.How my heart remembers the way he used to look at me, as if I were the only thing keeping him human.I’m not calming down.I’m spiralling.Hard. Fast. Unstoppable.He kidnapped me.He actually did it.Drugged me.Took me from my life.From Caleb.From Elias.From everything I fought for.And he said, “Welcome home,” as if it were a normal greeting.Like I should be grateful.Like I belong here.I don’t.I don’t.I don’t.But why does part of me feel like I
Mikhail’s POVI never meant to do it.That’s what I tell myself as I stand in the study, staring at the city through the bulletproof glass.I never meant to cross this line.But the line blurred the moment I tasted her again in that staff room.The moment she moaned my name like she’d never left.The moment she spat on me and I let her.Because even her anger is mine.I’ve been spiraling for weeks.Watching her from a distance.Seeing her smile at him.Seeing her touch him.Seeing her happy without me.It’s poison.Every photo Dmitri sends.Every report.Every time she laughs in a restaurant with Lola or hugs Elias or kisses Caleb.It eats me alive.So I gave in.I told myself it was protection.Lucien is closing in.My father is in a coma.The empire is bleeding.I need her.Only her.Only her presence calms the storm.So I had my men take her.Clean.Quiet.No struggle.No witnesses.They brought her to me.To the estate.To the room I prepared.Blac
Nora's POV My eyelids flutter open, heavy and sticky, like they’ve been glued shut. The world swims in and out of focus—a blur of dark shapes and dim light filtering through half-closed blinds. I’m lying on something soft, too soft, the kind of mattress that swallows you whole. Black sheets tangle around my legs, smooth and expensive, the kind I could never afford. My head throbs, a dull ache pulsing at the temples, and my mouth feels like it’s stuffed with cotton. I try to sit up, but the room spins violently, forcing me back down with a groan. What the hell happened? Where am I?I blink hard, forcing my vision to clear. The room comes into focus slowly. It’s huge—bigger than my entire apartment back in Houston. High ceilings, sleek black furniture, a massive balcony beyond floor-to-ceiling glass doors overlooking a glittering city skyline that looks vaguely familiar. The air smells musky, woodsy, like expensive cologne mixed with polished leather and fresh linen. It’s exquisite,





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