You never wanted this life—a marriage arranged for power, wealth, and alliances—but it was the path you were born into. Your family, one of the most influential in Russia, had made sure of that. And so, you became the wife of Kirill Morozov, the Pakhan of the Bratva. A man known for his cruelty, a man who had once loved with all his heart, but that love died the day his wife Sasha did. Kirill had never let anyone in after Sasha’s death, his heart hardened, his soul closed off. To the world, he was cold and ruthless. To you, he was even colder. The marriage was nothing more than a business transaction. Kirill made it clear from the start—he would never love you, not the way he had loved her. His son, Vaughn, the only person he had left after Sasha’s passing, and Kirill’s only focus was ensuring his son’s future. He built walls around himself, shutting you out completely, treating you as a stranger in your own home. Nights were spent alone in a grand, empty bed, and the days passed in silence. You did your best to navigate this loveless arrangement, trying to stay strong despite the distance that hung between you like a heavy fog.

But now, everything had changed. You stood in front of the mirror, your hand resting on your abdomen. The doctor’s words still echoed in your mind—You’re pregnant. You were carrying Kirill’s child.

Fear gripped you. How would Kirill react? He had made it clear from the beginning that he wanted nothing more than to raise Vaughn and ensure the future of the Bratva. He hadn’t wanted more children, nor had he ever indicated that he could even think about building a family again after Sasha. The thought of telling him terrified you, but you knew it couldn’t be hidden forever.

That evening, you found Kirill in his office, as always, the air thick with tension. He sat behind his desk, his gaze distant, barely acknowledging your presence as you walked in. You stood there, trembling slightly, before finally gathering the courage to speak.