Their Wife
img img Their Wife img Chapter 2 1
2
Chapter 6 5 img
Chapter 7 6 img
Chapter 8 7 img
Chapter 9 8 img
Chapter 10 9 img
Chapter 11 10 img
Chapter 12 11 img
Chapter 13 12 img
Chapter 14 13 img
Chapter 15 14 img
Chapter 16 15 img
Chapter 17 16 img
Chapter 18 17 img
Chapter 19 18 img
Chapter 20 19 img
Chapter 21 20 img
Chapter 22 21 img
Chapter 23 22 img
Chapter 24 23 img
Chapter 25 24 img
Chapter 26 25 img
Chapter 27 26 img
Chapter 28 27 img
Chapter 29 28 img
Chapter 30 29 img
Chapter 31 30 img
Chapter 32 31 img
Chapter 33 32 img
Chapter 34 33 img
Chapter 35 34 img
Chapter 36 35 img
Chapter 37 36 img
Chapter 38 37 img
Chapter 39 38 img
Chapter 40 39 img
Chapter 41 40 img
Chapter 42 41 img
Chapter 43 42 img
Chapter 44 43 img
Chapter 45 44 img
Chapter 46 45 img
Chapter 47 46 img
Chapter 48 47 img
Chapter 49 48 img
Chapter 50 49 img
Chapter 51 50 img
Chapter 52 51 img
Chapter 53 52 img
Chapter 54 53 img
Chapter 55 54 img
Chapter 56 55 img
Chapter 57 56 img
Chapter 58 57 img
Chapter 59 58 img
Chapter 60 59 img
Chapter 61 60 img
Chapter 62 61 img
Chapter 63 62 img
Chapter 64 63 img
Chapter 65 64 img
Chapter 66 65 img
Chapter 67 66 img
Chapter 68 67 img
Chapter 69 68 img
Chapter 70 69 img
Chapter 71 70 img
Chapter 72 71 img
Chapter 73 72 img
Chapter 74 73 img
Chapter 75 74 img
Chapter 76 75 img
Chapter 77 76 img
Chapter 78 77 img
Chapter 79 78 img
Chapter 80 79 img
Chapter 81 80 img
Chapter 82 81 img
Chapter 83 82 img
Chapter 84 83 img
Chapter 85 84 img
Chapter 86 85 img
Chapter 87 86 img
Chapter 88 87 img
Chapter 89 88 img
Chapter 90 89 img
Chapter 91 90 img
Chapter 92 91 img
Chapter 93 EPILOGUE img
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Chapter 2 1

I gradually arose from the deep slumber, my senses were instantly assaulted by the uncomfortable sensation of a relentless pounding within my skull, accompanied by an unsettling queasiness in the depths of my stomach. The room around me seemed engulfed in a cloak of darkness, shrouding every object and corner beyond my limited field of vision.

In that disorienting moment, confusion cast its shadow upon my consciousness, preventing any recollection of the events that had recently transpired.

As my groggy mind grappled with the disorientation, a flicker of worry ignited within me, igniting a fear I may have surrendered once again to unconsciousness without any conscious understanding of my actions. My eyes widened involuntarily, as if attempting to compensate for the obscured environment that held me prisoner. Grasping at fleeting fragments of fragmented memory, I strained to piece together the puzzle of my current predicament.

Killian.

I was so terrified that I just laid there. Shaking. My scared eyes looked around finding a modern version of the royal bedroom. The mattresses were soft under me with a comfortable comforter covering my body. But I couldn't feel any clothes on my body, just the softness of cotton sheets against my alert skin. I couldn't feel any pain, did that mean they didn't violate me?

Yet.

Tears burned my eyes, but I didn't let them fall. I sit up slowly, holding the sheets against my chest. My heart rate picked up when I saw a wide large mirror standing tall in front of the bed. I could view myself, hairs dishevelled, eyes wide as deer caught in red light, and an ugly large bruise on the left side of my neck where Ralph plunged the needle. Swinging my feet on the floor, I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. My gaze fell on the water bottle on the nightstand. But I couldn't bring myself to drink it. It might be drugged.

Despite the shuddering in my limbs, I managed to tie the sheet around my chest covering whatever I could. My heart gave an uneven thumb as a gasp left my mouth making me stumble several steps backwards as my hand moved to cover my mouth. My wide eyes looked at the wall behind me covered with large portraits of...me. Red and black.

It shouldn't startle me, but it did. Cause some of them were lewdly drawn. If you have no idea about Ralph Romano–consider yourself lucky among a limited amount of people, cause Ralph Romano's disaster. A living alive spawn of satan–no–the devil himself. He paint with blood and conveys screams in his paintings, he was a world-renowned artist respected by many as well as feared.

Including me. I hated him.

The anger mixed with panic, and I was able to think. I realised I was never alone, they were always there, hiding in the dark watching over me like a predator waiting for a moment to capture me between their claws. Moving away, I carefully looked around finding nothing that could be advantageous. It was filled with expensive and pleasant to the eyes. Money. For some reason, it scared me.

They were criminals with impassive amounts of money. My bare feet touched the ground–smooth and cold to the touch, like marble. My heart jumped several beats at the sudden sound of the door opening. A soft light came in, even though it was not bright, I was blinded by it. I blinked a few times, adjusting my eyes.

And I saw him. Another monster.

Alexei Volkov.

He stood in the doorway like a Dark Angel. His hair curled a little around his face, softening the sharp angles of his seductive masculinity. His eyes were trained on my face his lips curled in a slight smirk. He was stunning. And utterly terrifying. My instincts were right–they found me.

"Hello, Rara." He said softly, coming into the room. I casted a frantic glimpse around the room. I took a deep breath and forced my muscles to relax. But my body was not hearing, my heart was full-on galloping, and my hands starting to quiver. They had me in their grasp and nothing, no one could save me.

Like a demon mustered, Alexei stood in front of me, a cruel smile on his lips scared the daylight out of me.

"W-what are you doing here?" I hated my voice was trembling and my hands were frantically clasping at the edges of the sheets as if I were a pristine lassie. Which I was. They've ensured that.

The cruel curve of Alexei's lips exacerbated, dark amusement dancing in the depths of his eyes.

"It's my house."

"What am I doing here?" Maybe I could still rescue this situation, and buy myself a little more time.

He arched his eyebrows. "Cause I want you here." An overwhelming mix of unease and an inexplicable sense of danger coiled within me. In perfect harmony, my breath quickened, as if mirroring the hazardous warmth only he could evoke. Every fiber of my being tingled, acutely aware of his commanding presence and the ripped muscles concealed beneath the gentle fabric of his white T-shirt. His thick thighs were encased in jeans accentuated his powerful presence, while his forearms, adorned with tattoos, seemed to simultaneously suppress and magnify his muscular prowess.

He was terrorizing two years ago. Now, two years later, he was a power not to be inferred with.

"Where are we?" I asked as evenly as I could. I didn't want to delve bottomless into the possessive bit, didn't want to think about what he meant by that. I have a feeling I'd find out soon enough, but in the meantime, I needed to get my relevances.

"We're in Europe," he answered, his eyes glistening sardonically. "My territory."

I clenched my jaw. "And where is the fucking territory?"

He chuckled. "Fiesty as always."

"Fuck you."

"Oh." A mischievous grin spread across his face, revealing a set of teeth so sharp and white they gleamed brilliantly against the backdrop of his sun-kissed olive complexion. His gaze glided over my trembling figure, fixating on the very spot where my hands clenched the fabric, as if caught in a timeless struggle. "Very soon."

My body went simultaneously hot and cold, and I took a forced step back.

It was a mistake. With the grace of a stealthy hunter, he pursued me relentlessly, advancing with lethal elegance, until he stood mere inches away. His presence enveloped me as I caught a whiff of his intoxicating fragrance, an exquisite blend of rosewood and smoky allure mingled with an essence reminiscent of a tropical breeze. The enticing aroma, emanating from his very pores, served as a constant reminder of our surroundings and the inescapable confines of my newfound captivity.

Swallowing hard, I stared up into his hard-featured face as he lifted his hand and brushed my hair back, tucking it behind my ear. His touch burned like fire, adding to the upheaval inside me.

"My sweet naive little домашний питомец," he said softly. "Still think you can avoid this, do you?"

(Pet.)

I moistened my dry lips. I was shaking deep inside, and I didn't know if it was from apprehension or the infernal warmth consuming me. "I need more time. Please."

His eyes were almost pure black. "You had enough."

But it was not enough. A thousand years wouldn't be enough, and they know it. What they wanted was everything I fear and dread. They took everything from me, my family, my fiancé, my freedom. What more they desired, my soul?

"Please," I tried again, and whether it was the word itself or the quake in my voice, his answering headshake was almost sympathetic. Almost regretful-even as his words slay me with all the mercilessness with which he massacred dozen of men last night.

"No more waiting, возлюбленный." Covering my clenched hands with his big palms, he gently pried my fingers open, one by one, until the gauzy covering of my body was held up only by the corner I tucked into the material over my breasts. I could feel it slowly slipping out, untangling on its own, but he didn't wait. Seizing both of my hands in one of his, he tugs on the sheets, ripping it along until it dropped on the floor, leaving me standing naked in front of him.

(Beloved.)

The cool air wafted over my naked skin, adding to the sensation of icy-hot needles goring my flesh and, perversely, as he bend his head and engraved the words onto my ear with his warm breath. "It's time you give in, Rara. It's time for you marry us."

            
            

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