Lahat ng Kabanata ng Under The Devil's Eyes : Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄✨✨✨✨ ‎Nora’s POV ‎Mikhail’s Family Mansion – Christmas Eve, December 25. ‎The snow falls in fat, lazy flakes outside the massive windows of Mikhail’s family mansion, turning the rolling hills into a winter wonderland straight out of a postcard. Inside, it’s a whirlwind of warmth and chaos—the kind that makes you forget about the cold world outside. The grand foyer is decked out with a towering tree loaded with twinkling lights and ornaments that look like they belong in a museum, and the air smells like pine, cinnamon, and roasting turkey. I stir the mulled wine on the stove, watching the spices swirl in the deep red liquid, feeling a little out of place but mostly content. This is my first Christmas with Mikhail’s family, and it’s… a lot. ‎Olga, Mikhail’s grandmother, is the undisputed queen of the kitchen. She’s barking orders at my brother Elias like he’s her personal sous-chef. “Boy, the cookies need more sugar! Taste them—now!” she demands, thrusting a spatula at him

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,

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

‎Nora's POV ‎ ‎I lay 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 as Mikhail Romanov cry real tears. All my life, he has always portrayed himself as 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 happened last night, especially with the wound on his arm. It was definitely a gunshot wound; I'm not stupid enough not to 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 happened to him last night, but I keep quiet instead. He probably woul

‎🔞🔞🔞🔞🔥🔥🔥🔥 ‎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