Semua Bab Married Off To The Merciless Mafia King : Bab 11 - Bab 20

ANA“Mr. Benjamin,” I say, rising from my desk as the door opens. He walks in, all smiles and swagger. I know who he is immediately—one of those state-level politicians who once ran for governor and lost spectacularly. His opponent was just more conniving, more willing to play dirty.“Mrs. Orlov,” he greets me, extending his hand with that politician’s grin. It’s wide, practiced. His shake is too firm, borderline painful. I pull away quickly and rub my hand against my skirt, sitting back down and reminding myself this is just another client.“I’ve read through your case, Mr. Benjamin,” I start, trying to keep it professional. “I want to assure you that I’ll do everything in my power to?—”“You’re married to Dmitri Orlov, aren’t you?” he interrupts, leaning in with that same grin.I nod, my stomach tightening. I hate when people bring up my marriage, especially in the office. It’s like they don’t see me anymore—just his name, attached to mine.“Nice,” he says, still smiling, like he’s

DMITRIEven though it’s been a week, I can’t shake the image of Igor holding Ana’s hand. It’s etched into my mind, like a splinter I can’t dig out. Every detail from that night keeps replaying in my head—her in that emerald dress, her body practically sculpted by the fabric, the way the neckline teased just enough to drive me mad.I remember how I first saw her that night, walking into the garden like she owned the place. The dress clung to her curves, her cleavage perfectly framed, leaving me hard as a rock just from looking at her. The way she carried herself was infuriatingly captivating, each step drawing every eye in the room, mine included.I told myself it was nothing. That I didn’t care. After all, I’d thrown that damn party to show her exactly what she was—a trophy. Nothing more. But when I caught one of the men staring at her too long, a possessive anger surged inside me.Why the hell would I be jealous?I don’t even like her.Or so I keep telling myself.It doesn’t matter,

ANAI stride across the lobby, eyes locked on the elevator, ignoring the buzz of my phone reminding me about an upcoming meeting. Not now. Nikolai Petrov is going to see his daughter today, whether he likes it or not.If he won’t come to me, I’ll find my way to him. Simple as that.“Miss Petrov!” I hear my name being called from behind, and I come to a sharp stop, sighing as I turn around. It’s Ivan, my father’s aide—a man with a huge family. I watch impatiently as he hurries toward me, taking his time while the elevator doors open and close like a ticking clock.“Ivan,” I say, forcing a smile. “It’s been a while.”He nods, but then his face flickers with realization. “I’m sorry,” he stumbles. “It’s Mrs. Orlov now, isn’t it?”Oh, right.I barely noticed. Being Mrs. Orlov doesn’t sit quite right, and honestly, I’m still more Nikolai’s daughter than Dmitri’s wife. Always will be.“It’s fine. Is my father in his office?”Ivan scratches at his beard, thinking. “I’m not sure. I haven’t see

DMITRI I scowl at my door, the sound of a knock grating against my already fraying patience. My focus on the work at hand fades the moment my stepsister, Yelena, breezes in like a gust of uninvited chaos. “Brother!” she sings, dropping her leather luggage with a thud. In seconds, she’s latched onto me, squeezing me tight with her arms, as if she’s trying to suffocate me with affection. “You look good!” she chirps, clearly ignoring the fact that I can barely breathe. “And I’m going to be blue and cold if you don’t let up, Yelena,” I rasp, tapping her arm to signal my surrender. “Oh!” She releases me, stepping back with a sheepish grin. “Sorry. I just missed you. Wanted to soak in all theyouI could.” I stretch my arm out, keeping a safe distance between us. “You can soak in the ‘me’ with your words, not your death grip,” I say, cutting her off before she decides to smother me again. She pouts, dramatically releasing me. “Right. I forget how much you hate physical contact. Always

ANA“I hope you don’t mind me stopping by. I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d pop in to see my favorite sister-in-law.”I look up from my desk, and my face instantly brightens at the sound of Yelena’s voice. She’s like a breath of fresh air, completely opposite to her stone-cold brother, Dmitri.My husband.“No, no,” I wave her in, shaking my head. “You’re always welcome. What brings you to the city?”Yelena strolls in, dropping onto the chair opposite me with a dramatic sigh, a bag clutched in her hand. I can see the neck of a bottle peeking out, and judging by the size of the bag, there’s more than just champagne in there. This is Yelena, after all.It’s been a week since she moved in with us, and the house has never been livelier. Every time she goes out, she returns with some kind of gift. Dresses, shoes, even random trinkets she thought I’d like. It’s sweet, in a way. A little overwhelming, sure, but sweet.She flashes a mischievous grin. “Okay, so I lied about being in th