บททั้งหมดของ THE BRATVA’S BRIDE: บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

Her sobs turned into choked gasps as she crawled forward. “I love him! I love him so much, and I’ll do anything to be with him forever, so please—stop ruining his face!” The words hung in the air like a confession that could burn the whole room down. Mikhail froze, his jaw tightening. For a moment

MOSCOW, RUSSIA (MIKHAIL'S PENTHOUSE) The first thing Donatella felt when she stirred awake was heat—solid, warm, and pressed against her side. Her lashes fluttered open, and there he was. Mikhail Morozov. His arm lay heavy across her waist, his dark hair tousled in a way that looked infuriatingly

Mikhail’s world tilted. For a moment, he simply stared at the man, the words echoing in his skull. No cancer. Not dying. He had been lied to. The realization hit like a blade to the gut—his grandfather had manipulated him, forcing him into a rushed marriage under the pretense of dying, securing his

Then, without warning, Mikhail bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering there as if imprinting a vow into her skin. When he drew back, his eyes locked with hers—fierce, protective, unyielding. And then he turned, the door closing behind him with a final echo, leaving her alone once more.

The great oak table was filled with underbosses from every crime family under the Bratva’s umbrella. Some leaned forward, some lounged back, but all carried the same look—calculating, waiting, hungry. At the head sat Nikolai Morozov. Not just sitting, but sprawled in the Pakhan’s chair as if it wer