Prologue – The Hound and The Princess
Four years have passed, but power never truly fades. Alessandra Orlov still reigns from behind bars, controlling a world that refuses to forget her. She is not just a prisoner—she is the mastermind, orchestrating every move from afar.
And beside her, always lurking in the shadows, her loyal hound remains.
But he is no mere servant to a wealthy family. Mikhail Volkov was not born to bow—he chose it. Chose to kneel, chose to devote himself to one person in this world: Alessandra.
He comes from a darkness just as deep—raised in the brutal syndicates of Russia, forged in the merciless alleys of St. Petersburg, where loyalty was paid in blood and betrayal meant death. But fate pulled him toward Italy—to the heart of the Orlov empire—where he found not just survival, but purpose.
Now, he is more than a nameless executioner—he is the unseen hand, the shadow that eliminates threats before they can touch her. Every life that needs to vanish, every enemy that needs silencing—all fall under his control. Mikhail serves no one but Alessandra.
And beyond that, he is the only one who understands her desires.
He is not just her shield, not just the enforcer ensuring her throne remains intact—he is the man who knows her every side, the one who takes her in his arms in a way only they can understand. Outside, Alessandra is untouchable—a queen feared by all. But behind closed doors, in nights that belong only to them, she is a woman who craves more, who seeks control in another form.
He gives her everything—protection, power, and something deeper. Something no one else can claim.
And it is not just the outside world that bows to her—her own family knows she is not just another heir.
The Orlov family does not merely rule Italy—they are Italy. A dynasty built on blood, forged through decades of ruthless business, expanding their empire atop forgotten corpses. Her father is a legend, her mother a puppeteer in the shadows, and her siblings are either rivals or pawns, each navigating a game greater than themselves.
That is why, even after four years locked away, Alessandra never lost control.
And now, she returns.
The world begins to move again. Old enemies who once hid now dare to step forward. They believe time has weakened her grip, that four years have stripped her of her strength.
But they are wrong.
Because all this time, Mikhail has kept everything intact for her.
The night is colder than it should be. The prison gates creak open, and Alessandra steps out—not as a broken woman, but as a force ready to reclaim her throne.
Across the pavement, he waits.
His expression has not changed. No greeting, no warmth—just sharp eyes measuring how much she has changed in four years.
Alessandra exhales slowly, speaking with a casual ease. “Not going to say anything? No celebration for my freedom?”
Mikhail remains silent, fingers tapping lightly against the car door. “Four years is nothing,” he finally says. “You never lost control.”
She smirks. “Of course.”
She steps closer, stopping just inches away. Their eyes meet—two souls never truly separated, despite the world forcing them apart.
“Are you still mine?” she whispers, testing him.
He holds her gaze before answering, voice lower than usual. “I don’t know how to be anything else.”
Her smirk deepens. She reaches out, fingers curling around his tie, pulling him closer.
“Good,” she murmurs. “Because I never planned on losing you.”
And that night, the world begins to tremble once more—because they are together again.
More ruthless. More dangerous.
More unstoppable.
And this time, it is not just the two of them.
The family has been waiting.
Blood has been promised.
And the war that has been on pause for four years is finally ready to begin.