LOGINWhat should have been a life full of hope and promises soon turns into a nightmare. Reality hits me with its harshness, and every memory of how everything seemed perfect becomes torture. I trusted someone I shouldn’t have. By revealing our schemes to the local police, she ignited a war that threatened to destroy everything we knew—and nearly took Heros.
In the house, panic spr
Faina GreenThe days following my conversation with Darya and the boys were marked by a silent tension that only I seemed to feel.The house routine continued, apparently normal. In the mornings, the quintuplets invaded the kitchen like a tiny hungry army. In the afternoons, training is in the basement. At night, long dinners with Pyotr telling old Bratva stories and my five husbands exchanging discreet glances every time Michael entered the room.I observed everything.Darya kept her promise… at first.During training, she kept her distance. She only spoke when necessary and only corrected his posture when Zedekiah or Heros asked. But I noticed the small details she thought no one saw: the way she smiled when Michael hit a difficult target, the slight blush on her cheeks when he praised her throw, the quick glances they exchanged when t
Faina GreenThe weeks following Michael’s arrival felt like walking on thin ice: beautiful on the surface, but dangerous with every step.I tried to keep the house routine as normal as possible. The triplets trained every afternoon in the basement, the quintuplets ran through the mansion like a pack of little wolves, and Pyotr stayed with us more than usual—as if he, too, sensed that something was about to change.It was a cold March afternoon when everything became sharper.I was in the second-floor library reviewing Bratva reports my father had sent when I heard laughter coming from the winter garden. I stood up and went to the window.Darya and Michael were there.She was showing him how to spin a training knife correctly. Michael watched attentively, but it wasn’t just the knife he was looking at. His
Luther GreenThe training basement always smelled of leather, metal, and effort. Today, the scent was mixed with childish laughter and the faint aroma of residual gunpowder from previous sessions. I observed everything from the back wall, arms crossed, analyzing every movement the way I did with any operation.Faina stood on the elevated platform, cup of tea in her hands, but I knew her mind wasn’t there. Her eyes kept returning to the corner where Michael Holloway watched everything in silence.I was watching the boy too.Fourteen years old. Hungry eyes. The posture of someone who had learned to survive on the streets. Good potential. But the way he looked at Darya… that bothered me deeply.Zedekiah opened the dark wooden box.
Faina GreenThe morning after Christmas dawned cold and gray, as if the sky knew something heavy was about to enter our home.I could still feel my body deliciously sore from the night before. Every step down the main staircase reminded me of Heros’s hands gripping my hips, Luther’s cock stretching my ass while Noah fucked me slowly, and Zedekiah’s hungry gaze as he came in my mouth. I smiled to myself, adjusting the thick wool sweater that hid the purple marks on my neck.In the kitchen, the smell of fresh coffee, pancakes, and bacon filled the air. The quintuplets were already a mess—Yelena and Alicia fighting over a strawberry, Finnian trying to climb onto the counter, Alexander laughing, and Damon watching everything with that premature seriousness that worried me.
Faina GreenThe golden morning light streamed through the high windows of the living room, warming the Persian rug where my children sat. I watched the triplets — Darya, Yakov, and Vasily, full of their twelve-year-old energy — while explaining the system I had created years ago. But my mind, as always in these quiet moments, traveled six years into the past.I remembered the day after the birth of the five.The delivery was chaotic.Five babies. Five miracles crying at the same time in the operating room. Yelena and Alicia came first — the identical twins, dark hair and blue eyes. Then Finnian and Alexander, brown-haired like Luther, one with amber eyes like their father and the other with green eyes. Last came Damon, the quietest, his eyes already attentive t
Faina GreenSix years later.Snow fell gently over New York, turning the streets into a bright white postcard. It was Christmas Eve, and we had finally arrived at my parents’ house, just three blocks from our mansion. They had moved to the city permanently, unable to stay far from their grandchildren for long.The moment the car stopped, Darya was the first to jump out, her blonde curls bouncing as she ran through the snow.“Grandpa!” she shouted, throwing herself into my father’s arms. He was waiting on the snow-covered lawn.“Darya, careful! What did I say about running, especially in the snow?” Luther warned, but she was already in her grandfather’s arms, apologizing with a radiant smile.My children were now five and a half years old, and time really flew. I still remembered clearly the day I first held them—tiny, crying, and perfect.“Oh, let it go. It’s just snow. If she falls, it’s not the end of the world, right?
Lohan GreenThe moment I entered the bedroom, the sight of her stopped me in my tracks.Liora was sleeping peacefully in my
Heros GreenI noticed the vultures watching Liora with every step she took through the ballroom, their eyes crawling over her as if they had any right. Covetous. Curious. Hungry. The reason I came to this event was twofold: to remind everyone t
Zedekiah GreenI monitored the family’s operations from the office on the second floor, coordinating shipments with Igor and Jason while keeping an eye on our interests in Calabria. The soldiers moved like well-oiled machines under my commands, but my mind kept drifting upstairs—to her.Liora had s
Liora VossI descend the stairs after spending the entire previous day with Luther and find only the sadist downstairs. The house is wrapped in an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the soft sound of his conversation in the kitchen. He’s speaking with the cook, a woman in her sixties whose prese







