Weeks had passed since the marriage scandal. Everything was quiet too quiet, even for Don Derek. Krasavitsa was now Xavier’s personal assistant. The warehouse near the Moscow River hummed with generators, the distant echo of cargo moving breaking the stillness. Xavier stood on the upper platform, overlooking crates freshly unloaded from Brazil: ammunition, products, and packaging arranged with precise care. “Inventory matches,” Zayne said, tablet in hand. “No losses.” “Transport routes?” Xavier asked. “The trucks are splitting into three. If one is intercepted, the others move.” Xavier nodded. Control, power, precision—everything seemed stable. His phone vibrated. An unknown number. He answered without greeting. A slow, distorted voice came through. “You move loudly for someone surrounded by glass.” Silence. “Derek?” Xavier asked calmly, uncertain, though his gut told him yes. A faint chuckle. “You took something of mine.” “Be specific.” “The port access in Yeka

Nightfall came in the quiet house. Xavier was on the balcony making calls. The media was questioning the marriage, Daniel had frozen assets, and it was a media smear campaign. I didn't trust the silence anymore; everything felt staged. "Deal with it tomorrow afternoon," I ordered. After my call, I went to bed. Krasavitsa was already in bed. Tomorrow was a perfect day to perfect our performance with guests around. Sleeping was the same—it was for a few hours, and his senses were on high alert as always. Morning came too early for him. Krasavitsa was still in bed when he woke up. He checked his phone first for any news because paparazzi were around. Xavier left the room to go to the gym, which he rarely went to in the past. Push-ups, jogging on the treadmill, punches to the punching bag, and lifting weights. After his morning routine, he heade

"Until you understand the rules of being my wife, this house is your world." There was a pause as he looked her deep in the eyes before continuing. "Since you like standing beside my enemies so much, you can't be trusted. Like I said, you won't be allowed to leave the house until you remember whose name you carry." "You can't do that... I need to socialize with my friends too," she retorted, raising one eyebrow in question. Xavier leaned close, his voice almost a whisper. "You're lucky I want you alive, Svetlana." Those words gave her goosebumps immediately. The door shut behind him, and he left the room. Those were the last words he would say to her for weeks. Xavier would come from work, eat dinner, and go to bed. Over time, Svetlana didn’t know what was worse: going out meant with him. She couldn’t go alone, and that was because she had chosen the wrong man to rely on in his warm embrace. She needed