LOGINIssac was cruising down the street. The class got canceled, and he didn't feel like going back home because then he wouldn't feel like attending the rest of the classes.
It was such a waste of time. He would've been in the gym training for his upcoming match.
He peered at his phone for the fourth time today. Last night, Innessa followed him on I*. He was tempted to send her the request, but he refrained from doing so. It was all an act, so there was no need to indulge deeper.
He noticed a girl hurrying down the road. She had very similar hair to someone he knew. Wait. It was Innessa herself.
At first, he was about to hurry over to her, but then he refrained from doing so.
Where was she going?
This wasn't the way to the cafe where she works.
He quietly followed her, which was absurd, but he was curious about the little miss. He knows nothing about her; even her I* profile was private. Annoying.
From her sweet accent and her name, he could gather she was from Russia, but he still wasn't sure.
He followed her from a safe distance. A car kept honking behind, but he couldn't care less. If possible, he decreased the speed, which caused the driver to change lanes as he drove off, glaring at Issac, who flipped him off, ready to throw some hands.
Issac frowned when he found Innessa heading to the church. He parked his car far away from the church and followed right after her, not wanting to let her out of his sight.
He watched as she greeted a couple of ladies and their kids. Opening her bag, she pulled out chocolates and handed them to the kids, who beamed and hugged her legs as she laughed; her eyes twinkled. She was wearing a blue colored knee-length dress that made her eyes stand out. Her hair opened in light waves. She reassembled the depth of oceans, cold yet warm. Alluring yet deadly.
Issac couldn't pull his eyes off her. Never in his life had he ever stepped into a church, but here he was stalking a girl who was bugging him without even doing anything.
She walked down the aisle, and he followed silently. Issac slid into one of the long seats as he watched the girl kneel before the familiar holy Cross as she clasped her hands together, closing her eyes, she prayed to God, and the man was sucked into a trance as he soaked her in.
Her soft lips moved in gentle whispers, knuckles turning white with her devoted praying. Her head bowed slightly, and then ever so adorably, she pouted as if complaining to God about a certain inconvenience.
Issac couldn't peel his eyes off her. Resting his hands on the headrest of the long seat in front of him, he leaned closer, pressing his fingers on his lips. It was intriguing. Fascinating even. How could someone look so angelic by doing absolutely nothing?
His eyes left a heated trail on her bare legs; her hair looked so silky and soft. He wondered how they would feel wrapped around his fist as he-
F*ck!
He cussed inside his head, glaring at the girl now. She wasn't an extraordinary girl then, so why the f*ck was she having so much effect on him to the point he was having such raw thoughts about her in a church, not that he cared about the place. Innessa was an ordinary girl studying hard to maintain her scholarship and attend church. A typical nerd. She even looked like one.
He sat there peering at her vehemently throughout her prayer. Not once did he look at the Holy Cross or care for the holy place he was at. His eyes were focused on the girl in front of him.
He could bet she never even had her first kiss. It was just an instinct. This meant she was a virgin. Never touched by anyone. The thought alone sent a surge of thrill up his spine as his blood roared with foreign sensation.
He frowned, drilling holes in her. Why would he want to taste something as typical as her? Yeah, she was pretty, but she wasn't outstanding enough for his body to react like that. Maybe it was curiosity, and once he'd know more about her, he'll be bored out of his damn mind because of what she'd talk about? Human behavior? Psychological response? Bipolar disorder, shit?
He scoffed.
But why the f*ck did he find her so bewitching while she prayed? Maybe he has never seen someone pray before. He glanced at an elderly lady sitting in one of the front seats, praying. He didn't find her bewitching, though she was doing the same thing that Innessa was doing.
He watched Innessa the whole time while she prayed, not being able to peel his eyes off her. Once done, Innessa pulled herself to her feet and walked over to the small cabin in the corner. Someone was sitting there. She conversed with the person, smiled at him, and turned to leave, only to pause when her eyes met his.
The girl visibly stiffened before her shoulders relaxed, and shock flooded her features. Issac didn't seem like a person who'd go to church, but who was she to judge any soul?
Her eyes quickly darted to the door and then around to look for Henry, and yet again, he was nowhere in sight.
Innessa contemplated leaving quietly if she found him praying, but he was simply scrutinizing her with his smoldering gaze.
She sauntered over to him. "Do you come here often?" she asked in a soft voice.
Isaac's gaze dropped to her neck, where a thin chain rested in complete ease before he met her eyes again.
"It's my first time," he said, pulling to his feet, almost towering over her. She stepped back to give him space as he stepped out of his seat.
She didn't know what to say to that. "You should come here often, you'll like it," she said, earning silence from him.
"Let's go," he said, walking ahead of her, and she quietly followed. He has been acting strange since yesterday's ride.
They stepped out of the church. "You come here often?" His deep voice brought her out of her puddle of thoughts.
"Every Friday," she said as he hummed in response.
"Are you headed to university now?" He asked.
"Yes."
"I'm going there too, let's go together," he said as he guided her to his car. Issac opened the door for her like a gentleman as she thanked him and got in the car.
He drove them to the university. She was fidgeting with her fingers, a habit of hers which he noticed. A couple of seconds passed, and she flung a question at him. "Is Henry still stalking you?"
"Yeah," he said nonchalantly in a dispassionate tone.
"Why is he still doing this?"
"Maybe because he never saw us getting intimate with each other in public," He glanced at her, only to find her eyes broadened in size. Her expression screamed that he said something blasphemous.
Her face blanched to the point that his eye twitched in anger. He wasn't that bad; she didn't have to act like that after ogling at him when he was in a suit yesterday.
"That's not happening," he said, glaring ahead at the road.
"W... What?" she asked in a shaky voice.
"Intimacy. It's not happening, don't worry," he said a bit coldly as she heaved a sigh of relief.
It irked him, and he refrained from cursing. What does she think of herself?
"Our date would be enough proof for him," She mumbled to herself, another habit of hers.
"And yes. Can you follow me on I*? My friend asked me yesterday why you weren't following me," she said. He frowned, so she followed him because of her so-called friend.
Issac shuffled out his phone as he unlocked it with a face ID. Opening the app, he passed her his phone. "Do it," he said.
She grabbed the phone and was about to search for her name when the car stopped abruptly with a screeching noise, and he snatched the phone from her, but it was already too late; her name was already showing in the history of the search bar when she just put in her initials.
He muttered a string of profanities in his head. "I... I searched you up when I heard the rumors about us dating." That was the quickest lie he could come up with. Her icy blue eyes widened like saucers more because of the reckless brake and less because her name was already there.
"T... That's fine," She whispered.
He put the car in drive again as she retrieved her phone and accepted his request. He noticed her phone was an old model. Was she poor? Wait-
She was on a golden scholarship. She also works part-time in a cafe. Maybe she was from a middle-class family. Though she didn't look any less than the rich girls in the academy. She was even prettier than them.
A notification popped up on his phone. She accepted his request.
Issac pulled over the car in the parking lot as she stepped out of the car, thanked him with a small smile, and dashed to her department. He watched her leave, and while walking to his department, he opened her profile, barely saw a picture before he shook his head and shoved his phone in his pocket.
Why was he so interested? He wouldn't see her profile.
Maybe he should've clicked her picture when she was praying. When would he get to see her in that holy concentration again?
Next Friday perhaps?
He wouldn't go. That would be a waste of his time.
What about the date tomorrow? He didn't want to go! Why the f*ck did he plan it in the first place? Bloody annoying.
The heavy, armored SUV rolled smoothly through the private gates of the secluded estate, the tires crunching over the pristine gravel. Serena’s hands were tightly clenched in her lap, her knuckles turning white from sheer anticipation. Her heart was beating a frantic rhythm against her ribs. For months, she was away from her sister. They do get to call and talk, but that was it. She wanted to visit her sooner, but things happened. But today, the heavy fog of anxiety was finally lifting.Sitting right beside her in the dim, tinted cabin was Victor. His massive frame leaned back against the leather seat, his icy blue eyes fixed on the window, his expression a mask of cold, unreadable stone. He looked every bit the brutal Pakhan who ruled the city with an iron fist, yet he was the one who had made this moment possible.The SUV came to a halt in front of a sprawling, elegant mansion nestled deep within the highly secured Moretti territory. The doors clicked open, and the moment Serena ste
The golden morning sun cut sharply through the sheer perimeter of the balcony curtains, slicing across the dark expanses of Victor’s master suite. Serena opened her eyes slowly, her mind hazy, heavy, and completely disoriented. The first thing she felt was the smooth, cool slip of silk against her bare thighs, the oversized black button-down shirt that belonged to her husband. The second thing she felt was a crushing, unyielding weight anchored heavily across her waist.A massive, calloused hand was splayed flat over her stomach, trapping her securely against a wall of solid, radiating muscle.The immediate spike of panic hit her, a hard, instinctual jolt that made her breath catch in her throat. She was in his bed. She was trapped in the lion’s den, surrounded by the heavy masculine scent of sandalwood, leather, and winter rain. Her heart started to hammer against her ribs, but as she stared at his muscular arm wrapped around her, the panic morphed into something entirely different.
The silence inside the master suite of the Volkov estate was absolute, broken only by the rhythmic, delicate rise and fall of the breath against his chest. Outside, a heavy summer rain beat a steady, muted rhythm against the reinforced glass windows, blurring the lights of the sprawling estate into distant, watery smudges. But inside the dark bedroom, the world had shrunk down to the heavy mattress, the scent of expensive sandalwood mixed with sweet vanilla, and the fragile girl curled securely against his side.Victor lay wide awake, his icy blue eyes fixed on the shadowed ceiling plaster above. He didn't move. He barely even breathed, hyper-aware of the small, warm weight of Serena pressed flat against his rigid torso.They had spent an hour in a brutal, breathtaking collision. He had kissed her until her resistance broke, until her stubborn defenses crumbled into liquid heat, and her soft, full lips were completely swollen and flushed a deep, bruised crimson. By the time the storm
The weight of Victor’s words hung in the damp air of the master bedroom, heavy, absolute, and terrifyingly logical. Serena stayed frozen against the cold wall, her wrists still pinned high above her head by his single, massive hand. Her chest heaved against his, the soaking wet silk of her nightgown translucent and cold against her skin, yet she was burning from the inside out.The realization that Victor hadn’t ordered the attack didn’t break her heart over Roberto’s betrayal. It couldn't. Her father and his men had never been kind to her; they had always been cruel, treating her like an object rather than a daughter. Roberto lying to her wasn't a shocking tragedy; it was just typical Moretti behavior. It simply means her father didn't want her to be civil with Victor. He didn't want peace. He wanted total, destructive chaos, and he had happily weaponized her trauma just to twist her mind against the Russians.And she thought maybe... just maybe because she was their blood, they won'
The heat in the indoor pool room had reached a boiling point. The water around them felt warm, but the raw, unadulterated desire burning between their bodies was completely scorching. Serena couldn’t move. She couldn’t think. Her small hands were still locked tightly around Victor’s neck, her fingers digging into his wet skin out of pure survival instinct. She could feel the rapid thudding of his heart against her ribs, matching the wild, frantic rhythm of her own.Victor didn't stop at that. The dark, possessive beast inside him had broken its chains completely, and he was done playing the role of the patient husband. With a low, ragged growl, he gripped her waist tightly and pushed her back against the smooth, tiled ledge of the pool. Before she could even gasp, Victor lifted her completely out of the water, setting her down on the cold edge.The contrast was immediate and shocking. The cool night air hit her wet silk nightgown, sending a violent shiver straight down her spine, whil
The water around them felt warm, but the heat burning between their bodies was completely scorching.Serena couldn’t move. She couldn’t think. Her small hands were still locked tightly around Victor’s neck, her fingers digging into his wet skin. His massive frame completely trapped her; her legs wrapped around his waist out of pure survival instinct. The soaking wet silk of her nightgown was practically invisible now, sticking to her like a second skin, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.Every single line of her soft curves was crushed against the hard, rigid muscle of his bare chest. She could feel the rapid thudding of his heart against her ribs, matching the wild, erratic rhythm of her own.Victor stared down at her, his breathing heavy and ragged. The water kept them floating, but his grip on her waist was so tight it felt like he was afraid she'd disappear. His blue eyes were no longer ice; they had turned into a dark, stormy sea of pure, unadulterated hunger. The bea
The marble floors of the Volkov estate had never felt colder beneath Serena’s feet.After hours of scrubbing her skin in the bathroom, trying to wash away both the physical memory of Victor’s body and the invisible, toxic sludge of Roberto’s words, she felt completely hollow. Her stomach was raw fr
Serena stood before the full-length mirror in her bedroom, her breath catching in her throat as she looked at her reflection. She looked stunning.The dress was a masterpiece of dark opulence, a floor-length gown of midnight-blue silk that clung to every curve of her body like a second skin, droppin
The aftermath of the night was not a dawn, but a cold, suffocating gray that settled over the Volkov mansion.Victor sat behind his desk, the silence of his study usually a sanctuary, now a cage. He had showered, the scalding water scrubbing the blood and swear from his skin, but it couldn't wash aw
The roar of the SUV engines fading into the distance left a silence so heavy it felt like it was pressing against Serena’s lungs. She stood in the center of the dimly lit study, the ghost of Victor’s pulse still thrumming against the pads of her fingers.She looked down at the desk. The discarded t







