All Chapters of CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON.: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The sun was a pale, uninterested disk attempting to peer through the thick Russian clouds. Inside the Volkov mansion, the aftermath of violence had been clinically erased, but the tension was a physical force, clinging to the heavy velvet curtains and the marble floors.Vladimir was in his war room, but the echo of his commands reached Isabella even in the quiet solitude of the library. The suppression of the attack had been instantaneous and total."The digital footprint is gone," Ivan reported, his voice tight with fatigue over the secured line. "The CCTV footage in the sector was swapped with looped archives. The regional police chief is vacationing indefinitely in Dubai, compliments of the Don. There is nothing public."Vladimir, standing over a topographical map that now looked less like geography and more like a battlefield, only nodded. He hadn't slept, but his focus was terrifyingly sharp."Good. Containment is not enough, Ivan. I want the whispers silenced. If any member of th

I chose a sapphire blue dress. It was a defiant choice. The color demanded attention, and after twenty-four hours of being consumed by my own terror and Vladimir’s terrifying retribution, I needed to feel anchored in something substantial. Dinner was less a meal and more a mandated public display of unity for Viktor, his younger brother, the only blood relative Vladimir truly allowed close.The dining room was vast, intimidating. Three places were set at the enormous mahogany table. I sat across from Vladimir, the gap between us filled with crystal glasses and polished silver, yet feeling impossibly wide.He was impeccably dressed, the gray suit hiding the monster he’d unleashed last night. The cold air of the Don still clung to him, but whenever he glanced at me, I saw the possessive warmth, the same warmth that had driven him to kill and return, demanding my acknowledgment of his protective violence.A few minutes past the designated time, the doors opened. Viktor entered, radiating

The emotional weight of the ultrasound finally settled, solidifying my resolve rather than softening it. Seeing our son, so tenacious, so perfectly whole, only reinforced the terrifying reality: I could not rely solely on Vladimir’s legion of guards. I had faced the enemy in my own home, and I had fought back, but luck was a flimsy shield. We are still yet to see our other child, the doctor said our baby hid behind our son, now i’m left guessing if it is a boy or girl.I found Vladimir in his gym, a cavernous space that smelled of sweat, leather, and ambition. He was sparring with Ivan, a swift, brutal ballet of muscle and intent. They moved with a chilling economy of effort.I waited until the end of the round. Vladimir, glistening with sweat, caught the towel Alexander tossed him, his chest heaving with controlled exertion. His eyes, always the first place I looked for the real man, snapped to me. The intensity of his focus made me feel like the only thing in the entire facility.“Yo

The tension in the mansion was palpable, a live wire running just beneath the surface of the Volkov veneer. Knowing about the Golden Key, that I was a walking, talking asset deed, made me feel utterly exposed, but it also gave me absolute clarity on my mission. I wasn't just here to be protected; I was here to be the force that stabilized this unstable man.Vladimir had been gone all day, orchestrating his vengeance against Damon Salvatore. He left me with the devastating knowledge of my father’s betrayal and his own heavy secret, but he also left me with a clear path forward: eliminate the deepest, oldest wound.I waited for him in the salon, ignoring the opulence of the room. When he finally returned, he looked like a god of war, tired, powerful, and utterly detached. He paused the moment he saw me, his face smoothing into the familiar mask of protective affection.“You should be asleep, moya solnyshko,” he said, walking to me. He took my hands, lifting them to examine my fingers for

The silence was wrong. A few minutes after Vladimir was gone, a breach happened. One minute I was resting and now I'm restless.It wasn't the natural quiet of a well-secured fortress nestled in the desolate Russian countryside. It was the sudden, dead silence of a live wire that had been expertly cut.I was in the master suite, following Vladimir's last instruction: survive. I had armed myself, not with the delicate stiletto, but with the heavier, more efficient handgun he'd taught me to load and clear in under ten seconds. I was pacing the bedroom, a restless, terrible energy driving me, an energy that was fighting the gravitational pull of the two lives growing beneath my ribs.For the last three hours, I had listened to the siege. Loud, persistent noises on the outer perimeter, the sounds of explosions and organized breaches far from the house, exactly where Vladimir expected the attack. He had left behind a minimal, trusted team inside the inner ring.Then, the noise stopped. Not g