Ivan Romanov Novels & Stories

Papa and I weren’t surprised that Ivan didn’t say much. Ivan Furlan is the epitome of a man of few words. Regina swears he’s more talkative with her, and I believe her. She’s his mate. Of course, he’s going to communicate with her. It’s the rest of the world he doesn’t communicate with beyond what he deems necessary.

The fuzzy edges slowly sharpened into a familiar jawline and cold eyes. My stomach dropped. The blood in my veins turned to ice. It was Ivan. Elena’s husband. One of Killian’s top lieutenants. The same powerful man who had bowed his head respectfully to me just an hour ago. "You look confused, little bird," Ivan said. His voice sounded warped through the heavy haze in my head. He closed the distance between us. He reached down and grabbed my bare arms. His thick fingers dug painfully into my skin as he hauled me off the floor. My ankles dragged uselessly against the carpet as he threw me onto the center of the large bed.

My dad looked at Vlad from top to bottom before looking at his eyes again, “No way…” Vladimir chuckled, “Yes, Daniel. I’m his son. Vladimir Artem Ivanov, son of Mikhail Fedor Ivanov.” Shock was evident in everyone’s eyes when he said the last name ‘Ivanov’. Did I hear it right? But as far as I know, there was no heir after the death of Mikhail Ivanov, leader of the Russian mafia. Mikhail’s father, Damien Igor Ivanov, is the one who is managing everything now, and the worst father and leader that I have ever heard of.

"Why is it so important to you?" Valerina glared at me with those big blue eyes. "I'm leaving," she said and began to get up, but I pulled her back by the wrist. "Alright if you must," I said and turned to look at her directly. "I am the youngest daughter of Czar Nicolas Romanov. My name is Anastasiya Nikolaevna Romanova, and I am a Grand Duchess and Imperial Princess of Russia."

“Come again!” Vladimir’s eyes burned like a volcano when He heard those words out of his sister’s mouth. The Russian princess was sold to the Irish. The fucking irony! “Who dared to sell Sila Sokolov to the Irish bastards?” He grabbed her shoulders and growled with rage.

Apart from her rude and Narcissistic behavior, she’s just there. “Of course not” Hardin answered tonelessly “Now look me…” Ivan was cut off by a knock on the door

“It’s not just that. Vanessa was the heiress of the Ivanov Empire of Assassins. Ivanov’s assassins are on the hunt for Francisco, but do you ever wonder why they haven’t found him yet?” Eros was puzzled. Black was right. Ivanov’s assassins should have Francisco’s head already. What’s taking them so long? --- Calvin stepped into the isolated villa. It was his third trip on this road, and he was questioning the old man why he didn’t want to leave the villa. A beautiful woman wearing a black tailored dress greeted him warmly and even wrapped her arm around his to help him up. “Beautiful Ana,” Calvin greeted. “Sir Ivanov,” she greeted. “I prepared your favorite as requested, and Dad is waiting f

Benita’s gaze glittered with triumph. “Ivan is the true heir of the Varkanin bloodline,” she declared. The corridor fell silent. Daniil’s expression hardened instantly. “Vadim was Maximo’s son,” Daniil said. Benita shook her head slowly. “Vadim was a useful distraction,” she replied. She looked at Ivan proudly. “Ivan is the first son of this empire.” Before anyone could react, a sudden voice echoed from the shattered entrance behind us. “Now that is an interesting story.”

he shouts. "That girl isn't worthy of you, Ivan. She's a daughter of a fisherman~" Raphael begins to say. "Her husband is Ivan Alexander Black!" Ivan interrupts, not letting Raphael complete his sentence. "Why don't you fucking understand?!" "Yes, and you are~" Raphael tries to say something. "I swear to God, Mr. Raphael Black, if anything happens to her dad, be ready to be killed by me," Ivan says while grinding his teeth, his eyes turning red with anger.

She’d folded her legs beneath her and sat on the cold marble, her chin tilted high in defiance of the indignity. And I? I had done nothing. Because I couldn’t. Irina was not just my grandmother; she was the matriarch of the Romanov family. Even in her old age, her word carried more weight than mine in certain matters, especially when it came to family traditions. To challenge her in front of the others would have been a sign of disrespect—weakness. But it grated on me. Seeing Anya like that… It wasn’t right. “Kum(Boss),” Yuvi’s voice broke into my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. I looked up to see him and several other men standing in the doorway, their faces grim.