All Chapters of Máfia's Hated Bride: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

ANGELINE HARRINGTON Ever since that damn message and Nikolai's jealous outburst, I haven't been able to sleep. I stayed up all night. My eyes burned with exhaustion, but sleep simply wouldn't come. Each time I closed my eyelids, I saw Nikolai's face—that face I loved, that I had chosen, that I had sworn to follow until the end of my days—transformed by fury. By distrust. By something I couldn't name, because I never thought I would see it directed at me. On the floor, the remains of my cell phone lay where he had thrown it. Shards of glass and plastic scattered across the carpet like a small, private explosion. I hadn't gotten up to clean it up. I couldn't. I was trying to understand. I was trying to understand not the messages—those damned messages they sent me, and which I didn't know where they came from. That was a mystery my weary mind couldn't unravel. But not understanding Nikolai was completely different. Because of the sender of those messages—whom I swear by everythi

ANGELINE HARRINGTON She was still crying cold tears sitting on that barren bed. I remembered the moment I was pulled away from Nikolai by the security guards. He had given the orders coldly, without even looking back. I watched and rewatched that scene several times in my mind. I needed to remember it constantly. I needed to transform all that pain and love into something much stronger and more resilient—for when I needed to fight him. As Sergei and the other security guard led me down the corridor, I instinctively touched my belly, remembering how cruel my husband could be when he wanted to. "Where are they taking me?" I asked, frightened. The other security guard simply lowered his head, clenched his jaw, and kept his eyes fixed ahead. Serguei tried to resist. To say nothing. "Sergei, please," I pleaded, my hands trembling over my stomach. "I need to know." He hesitated. His eyes darted to his partner, as if silently asking for permission. The other frowned, but didn't stop

Author's Note: This chapter is narrated in the first person by Dmitri MacAlister (yes, Dimitri is Russian with Scottish origins, I forgot to explain that detail) — and yes, it's a deviation from the usual structure of the story, which has always been narrated in the first person by Angeline or Nikolai. The choice was necessary because this detail of the story needed to be told directly by me using the character, without the fog of emotion that blinds our protagonists. DMITRI MACALISTER After what Nikolai did to his wife, almost 20 days had passed. But now the most feared Pakhan in Russia, the man who made generals tremble and kings of the underworld beg for permission to breathe, was unrecognizable. He drank from dawn. He ignored operational reports that he himself had ordered. He jeopardized multi-million dollar deals with his silence and absence. I watched everything in silence; his face, sculpted from decades of war and blood, was cracked, it was visible. I've served Pakhan for

ANGELINE HARRINGTON His eyes met mine. And what he saw seemed to shake him. I know how I look. Pale. Thin. My dark, dull hair is tied up in a messy bun. The dark circles under my eyes betray sleepless nights. I'm a shadow of the woman he always saw smiling at Nikolai—especially when he saw my husband's face so happy to find out he was going to have twins. — Dmitri — I whispered, trying to get up. — What… what are you doing here? "I came to help, ma'am," he replied without hesitation, keeping his voice low. — If Nikolai finds out… — You won't find out, but if you do… leave it to me. But please don't worry about it right now, okay? That's when I realized that both the doctor and Ana were extremely tense. "You can't be here," the doctor said, looking at the closed door, frightened. "I can do so much, that's why I'm here..." Dimitri replied, his voice low, leaving no room for discussion. "...And you'll forget you saw me here. Just like Miss Anne. Otherwise, I'll have to make you

DMITRI MACALISTER After Nikolai expelled his own father as if he were a stranger, Arkady left visibly shaken, his face pale, his eyes brimming with a pain he tried to hide. — Keep investigating, I'll help you. I just nodded. I didn't promise anything. Promises, at that moment, were empty words. That's when I saw her. Rosana was there, as always, in the mansion's hallways. Arkady's secretary, a legacy of years of work, now also served as Nikolai's assistant. I thought Nikolai had sent her back to work with Arkady, or was I mistaken? Her constant presence was seen as normal. No one questioned it. I myself had never questioned it. Until that day… She was in the corner, watching. Her eyes followed every movement—of the security guards, the employees, even mine. There was something about that posture, that cold gaze, that made me stop for a second. It wasn't the loyalty of an efficient secretary. It was something else. Something darker. As Arkady said goodbye, I saw Rosana discreet