Novels by Esmeralda

Chapter Ten: The First StandAlexander Petrov’s POVAlexander stared at Isabella. She stood in the doorway of the side room, chin raised, shoulders back. Her emerald dress was torn at the hem from running through the warehouse. Her hair had come loose from its pins. But her eyes were steady.“What did you just say?”“I said I’m not leaving. You can’t make me disappear. I’m staying.”“Isabella—”“No.” She stepped forward. “You don’t get to make this decision for me. You married me for strategy, fine. But I just watched your sister try to kill you. I just saw you nearly die. And now you’re going to walk into the Circle of Crowns gala—into the most dangerous room in Europe—and announce to the world that you’re alive.”“That’s exactly why you need to leave. It’s going to get worse before it gets better.”“I know.” Isabella’s voice was firm. “But I also know that you can’t navigate the Circle without me. You don’t know their politics. You don’t know who to trust. You’ve been playing the re

Chapter Nine: The Truth Laid BareAlexander Petrov’s POVAlexander led Isabella into a side room of the safe house. Small. Sparse. Just a table and two chairs.Isabella sat down without being asked. Her hands were shaking.Alexander remained standing. His mind was still processing what had just happened. Elena. The attack. Isabella showing up at the worst possible moment.Isabella saving his life.“You’ve been a Prince all along,” Isabella said finally. Her voice was steady, but her eyes were wide. Stunned.“I take it that you’ve been told. And I wanted you to hear it from me first, but I guess there’s nothing I can do anymore.” Alexander ran a hand through his hair.“I still want to hear it from you, Alex.”No one called him Alex except Dmitri. Hearing it from Isabella’s mouth felt strange. Intimate.He sat down across from her. “Like you rightly said, I’ve been a Prince all along. From the Valdorian Court to be precise, but I left home twelve years ago when I was sixteen.”Isabella

Chapter Eight: The Warehouse AmbushAlexander Petrov’s POVAlexander’s bike tore through the warehouse district at speeds that should have killed him. His phone was pressed to his ear, Dmitri’s voice crackling through.“How many?”“At least fifteen. Professional. Ghost is directing them. Elena’s inside. She’s looking for you.”“Casualties?”“James took a round to the shoulder. I’ve got him stabilized. Katerina’s barricaded in the server room. But Alex—they’re not here to destroy the operation. They’re here for you.”Alexander killed the engine two blocks out. Moved on foot. Silent.The warehouse was lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. Gunfire echoed in the night. He counted four guards down at the entrance—his guards—and slipped past their bodies into the building.The interior was chaos.Bullet holes in the walls. Overturned equipment. Blood on the concrete. His people were pinned down in defensive positions, returning fire against a coordinated assault.And at the center of it all

Chapter Seven: The Museum MeetingAlexander Petrov’s POVAlexander had been tracking Isabella since the dinner party. Not physically—he wasn’t that reckless. But through the estate’s security feeds. Through her phone’s GPS that Katerina had quietly tagged months ago.For protection, he’d told himself. In case his uncle’s men made a move.But tonight, as he watched her car pull away from the estate at 11:47 PM, heading toward the abandoned museum district, he knew this wasn’t about protection.This was about the text message.The one from the unknown number. The one that said: “Your husband is not who he claims to be. Meet me tomorrow if you want to know the truth.”Except ‘tomorrow’ was now tonight. And Isabella was going to meet whoever sent it.“Fuck.” Alexander grabbed his jacket. “Dmitri, I’m heading out.”“At midnight? Where—”“The old museum. Isabella’s meeting someone.”Dmitri’s expression darkened. “Could be a trap.”“I know. That’s why I’m going.”He took the bike instead of

Chapter Six: The First Face-SlappingAlexander Petrov’s POVThe Summers family hosted a small dinner party three days after the bank incident. Nothing major—just close family and a few business associates. Vivian had insisted Viktor attend.“He’s such a charming young man,” she’d gushed to Isabella. “And after that terrible bank robbery, we should make sure he’s alright.”Alexander had received the invitation like he always did—through a brief text from Isabella. No explanation. Just a time and a dress code.He showed up exactly on time.The dining room was already full. Vivian. Marcus. Isabella’s father. A few cousins. And Viktor, sitting next to Vivian like he owned the fucking place.Until Alexander walked in.Viktor’s wine glass trembled in his hand. His face went pale. His eyes tracked Alexander’s every movement like he was watching a predator circle.Alexander said nothing. Just took his seat at the far end of the table—the spot they always gave him. The spot that made it clear

Chapter Five: The Witness & The PhotoAlexander Petrov’s POVAlexander had been tracking Viktor’s movements for six months. Every meeting. Every transaction. Every fucking breath the bastard took, Alexander knew about it.So when Katerina pinged him that Viktor was heading to the Northern Bank—the one his uncle used to launder money through shell corporations—Alexander knew he had to see this for himself.He arrived at the bank fifteen minutes before Viktor did. Blended into the crowd. Just another customer.The bank was busy. Marble floors. High ceilings. The kind of place where money whispered instead of talked.Alexander stood near the back, pretending to fill out a deposit slip. His eyes tracked Viktor the moment he walked through the door.Viktor moved with confidence. Expensive suit. Expensive watch. The kind of man who’d never been told ‘no’ in his entire privileged life. He headed straight for the private banking section.Alexander kept his distance. Watched. Waited.That’s wh