All Chapters of The Price of Bought Passion : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Several weeks had passed since my birthday, and now I was a confident and proud owner of my own business—more precisely, my very own line of cosmetics and skincare products.Of course, my brand wasn’t on store shelves yet; these things don’t happen overnight. Right now, I’m drowning in organizational tasks: hiring staff, selecting suppliers of raw materials (in this regard, I’m incredibly lucky that the Yartsevs are among them), choosing a facility, a lab, and juggling a mountain of other details.But I’m so happy with what I’m doing that I feel as if wings have grown on my back! I spend less time sitting at home with nothing to do now. Sure, there’s always something to do at home, but getting out of the house is incredibly healthy—especially mentally.Although, naturally, Kirill managed to twist this situation to his advantage. Since my cosmetic line will be produced using IncorpMedyar’s equipment and resources, the company is the primary entity. I’m just a small branch under it. Whi

Only one month remains until the end of the year, and yet so much has already happened! And I’m not even talking about the fact that Kirill found me, we got married, confessed our feelings, and are now expecting our baby girl.Oleg and Valentina, after two months of living together, decided to get married. It wasn’t some huge glamorous wedding for a thousand guests—just a cozy family celebration between two loving hearts and their closest relatives, the ones truly capable of being happy for them.The entire internet buzzed nonstop about the event, chewing over every detail from every possible angle. But our newlyweds couldn’t care less about other people’s opinions and loud mouths—and that was something I admired deeply.And the good news doesn’t end there. Today, Marishka came over to visit and shocked me with the news that Viktor proposed to her—and she said yes. I am genuinely so happy for her. Her eyes shine, and she looks incredibly happy with her man. They decided to have the we

Kirill Yartsev:When my secretary, Lidia, burst into my office with her face twisted in fear and announced that we’d received an email saying the building had been mined, I was genuinely surprised. We’d never dealt with anything like this before.We’re not a government institution people threaten by anonymous messages, nor a school someone tries to scare just to get classes canceled.For some reason, I was certain the message was fake—but checking everything was absolutely necessary. Calling Mikhail, I watched him start working right there in my office, summoning his subordinates and giving out orders. A large portion of the staff was involved, along with the police and K-9 specialists.They started with the offices on our floor. Those were the easiest to verify. There’s a special code panel at the entrance; when the door opens, it sends a notification directly to my phone. The door had only opened this morning when Lidia arrived, which meant that overnight no one could have accessed

Kirill Yartsev:After a few minutes of shock—standing there with my daughter in my arms—the baby was taken from me.According to the doctor, for her gestational age she was surprisingly well-developed and strong, but she still needed several days in a special incubator under supervision.And Vicky had worried so much about “gaining weight too fast”… Who could’ve known it would turn out to be a blessing.While the doctors were stitching up my wife and preparing to transfer her to a room, I was asked to step out. Besides, there were things I needed to handle immediately.In the hallway, my father and Valentina were waiting. I told them everything had gone relatively well—and that they now had a granddaughter, Solomia.My father was moved, and Valentina crossed herself with relief, thanking heaven.We decided to split up. Val would stay with Vicky, and my father and I would head to the hospital where Marina had been taken. Mikhail had already called—she still hadn’t regained consciousnes

A few minutes later, we were already in the car, racing toward the outskirts of the city.No matter how much Dasha asked to come along—we left her at home. This was too dangerous, and we could not risk it.The dacha settlement we arrived at was nothing like those weekend luxury cottage villages for the wealthy near the capital. This was an ordinary, rundown cooperative where nothing had changed since Soviet times—and likely never would.Dilapidated houses patched with plywood and whatever materials people could find, crooked fences made from random sticks and scraps, no real road—just a frozen swamp of mud. The bleak December landscape, stripped of any greenery, made the place look even more miserable, like something out of the Middle Ages.We didn’t drive in too close—we couldn’t risk spooking the kidnappers or triggering any panicked reaction. Mikhail and his team needed to assess the situation and move fast.We stepped out into the cold, listening to the wind and waiting. Snow bega