Lukas Volkoff's POV
This fine lady in front of me... she thinks she's invisible.
She walks through halls with her chin high, throwing herself into work like it's her goddamn lifeline. Like if she stops for a second, the silence will eat her alive.
But I see her.
She's not invisible to me. Never was.
I watch the way her hands tremble when no one's looking, the way her breath catches when certain names are mentioned. She pretends well—but not to me.
She works herself like a machine, bloodless and mechanical, until she burns out… and then starts again. The worst part? She thinks this keeps her in control.
But it doesn't.It just makes her more mine.
She's trying to outrun something—memories maybe, pain definitely. And every time she pretends not to care, I see the cracks deepen.
I want to grab her, shake her until she sees that I'm not just here to stand still in the shadows.But not yet.Not until she crumbles on her own.
She thinks I don't know how she clutches her head at night, trying to fight the migraine, whispering things under her breath like she's trying to pray away demons.
But I've been one of those demons.
She forgets I know her bloodline. I know her house. Her father's twisted empire, that legacy of pain disguised as power.She was born with fire in her, but they tried to tame it. Break her.
Now… I'll unchain it.
She can keep pretending she's invisible.I'll keep watching.
And when she finally breaks—I'll be there to make sure she never puts herself back together the same again.
But no more.We've been together for a year now.
And yet… some nights still feel like the beginning.Like I'm still trying to peel through the layers of whatever hell she's hiding beneath that perfectly built exterior.
Tonight was one of those nights.
I was finishing a late call—arms tense, mind on edge—when I heard it.
Her scream.Raw. Broken. Terrifying.
I didn't think. I just ran.
Pushed open the door to her room, and there she was—drenched in sweat, tangled in her sheets, her body trembling, lips muttering something too incoherent to understand.
She was fighting something.Something I couldn't see… but I felt it clawing at her from inside.
I moved to her side, fast but careful, and gripped her shoulders, shaking her just enough."Adelina," I growled low, voice firm but not cruel. "Wake up."
She gasped like she was drowning, and when her eyes shot open, they didn't find the room—They found me.And in that moment… it was like she didn't recognize me at all.
"You're safe," I muttered, pulling her against me. Her breathing was wild, panic rising like waves that wouldn't crash.
But I held her. I held her like she would shatter if I let go.
This nightmare… it wasn't just a flicker of the past.It was something darker.Deeper.Violent.
She clung to me without thinking, her nails digging into my arms as she whispered broken words—"She was there… again. She was trying to burn me. She had the cigarette—on my skin. I couldn't move. I couldn't scream…"
Fuck.
That woman again.The same one from her flashbacks. The one who suffocated her in her dreams. The one whose memory was etched like a brand into her psyche.
I've spent years doing dark things.But the thought of someone hurting her like that made a different kind of darkness rise in me.
A kind that whispered for vengeance.
I cradled her tighter, pressing my lips to her temple, breathing slow to anchor her."You're safe now," I whispered. "She's gone. She can't touch you anymore."
But I knew it was a lie.
Because monsters like that don't just disappear.They stay—inside the skin, under the bones, hidden in the dreams.
And now I wasn't just watching her fight her demons.
Now… I was ready to hunt them down.
Her nails dug into my skin like she was afraid I'd disappear.Like she was clinging not to a man—But to safety.To air.
She was trembling, whispering fragmented words, but I wasn't listening to her nightmare anymore.I was listening to her.
Her body.Her breath.The way her pulse beat frantically against my chest.
I wrapped my arms around her fully this time. No hesitation.My hands slid up her back, pressing her against me like I could melt us into one being if I held tight enough.
And fuck—this was our first hug.
The first time she was in my arms like this, not because I demanded it—But because she needed me.
Her body was soft, fitting perfectly against mine, her thighs brushing against the space between mine.She was wearing nothing but a thin nightdress, soaked slightly in sweat, the fabric clinging to every curve—And I felt every inch.
Her breath hitched when my hand brushed the small of her back.She didn't move away.She didn't flinch.She just stayed there—buried in my chest, letting out the softest, neediest whimper that undid something in me.
My throat went dry.My self-control?Gone. Hanging by a thread.
I could smell her shampoo—something like vanilla and sin.And when I tilted my head just slightly to look down at her—her lips were parted, her lashes fluttering, the tip of her nose barely brushing my neck—It was the most erotic kind of innocence.
And I knew.She didn't even realize how hard I was holding back.How this hug—this one fucking hug—was threatening to undo me entirely.
"Adelina," I whispered, her name a warning, a plea, a sin on my tongue.She looked up at me with glassy eyes, her lips barely trembling."I… I feel safe," she said softly.
That was it.That was the moment.The crack in my armor.
Because this wasn't just a hug.This was her body learning mine.Her skin imprinting into my hands.Her breath syncing with my heart.
And I wanted more.
But not tonight.Not when her hands were shaking.Not when her demons still clung to her skin.
So I just held her.Longer.Tighter.Harder.
Because this was our first hug.And it already felt like a promise.
She was so small against me.Barely reached my chest.5'4 of delicate, trembling softness pressed against 6'3 of restrained hunger.
She didn't even know what she did to me—how easily she undid every monster I'd ever buried inside.She felt like porcelain in my arms—fragile, light, breakable.A doll.
My fucking doll.
Her head tucked perfectly beneath my chin, her body folding into mine like she was made to be here.Made for me.
And she was warm.So warm.Soft in every place I was hardened by life, by war, by loss.
She smelled like sleep and nightmares.Like trust she didn't know she was giving me.And I knew—if I wrapped my arms around her a little tighter, just a little more—I could shatter her.
She didn't get it.
I wasn't made for softness.I wasn't made for innocence.But fuck… the way she held onto me like I was her only anchor?
It made me want to destroy the world for her.
My hand moved on its own, sliding up her back, brushing the side of her neck with my knuckles.Her pulse jumped.And she looked up.
Eyes wide. Dazed.So fucking beautiful it hurt.
If I kissed her now, she'd let me.Not because she wanted it.But because she needed comfort.
But I wanted her to beg.To crave.To burn.
Because I would give it all to her.And take everything in return.
So I did the hardest thing I've ever done—I let her go.
But just barely.
My lips brushed her temple, my voice nothing but gravel and desire.
"Go back to sleep, doll. I've got you."
Even if she didn't know it yet—She was already mine.
I made her lie down gently on the bed.She didn't protest—just let me guide her like a puppet with no strings left to pull.The moment her head touched the pillow, a soft sigh escaped her lips.
Broken.Exhausted.So damn vulnerable.
I pulled the sheet over her body, careful not to wake her.She looked peaceful like this—finally, after nights of torment.
My hand hovered over her cheek, almost touching.Almost.
But I didn't.Because if I touched her now, I wouldn't stop.And she didn't need that. Not now.
She needed rest.She needed peace.Even if it came from a man like me.
I sat on the edge of the bed for a minute longer, eyes fixed on her face.The way her lashes rested against her skin… the subtle twitch of her fingers…Even in sleep, she wasn't completely at ease.
But she would be.
I'd burn the whole world down if that's what it took to make sure she slept without fear.Even if I had to become her nightmare to destroy the ones haunting her.
She was mine to protect.And one day, she'd know that.
Even if it meant she'd never be free of me again.
I had been stalking her long before I became her bodyguard.Sounds twisted? Maybe.But obsession doesn't come with a moral compass. Not in my world.
I first saw her at a high-profile event—elegant, powerful, glowing like sin under the chandeliers.And the moment our eyes didn't meet, I still felt it.That tug.That fire in my veins.Like something ancient had woken up in me.
She smiled at someone that night. Not me.And that smile haunted me.It wasn't just attraction.It was possession.It was madness dressed in a three-piece suit.
From that moment on, I made her my mission.She didn't know it, but every step she took after that night, I was watching.Tracking.Learning.
Then came the real shock.
While digging into her background, going through old files, surveillance photos, anything I could get my hands on—I found it.
She was her.
That same five-year-old girl who once saved me in an alley, when I was bleeding, broken, hunted.She was just a child, yet stood like a warrior, eyes bright with courage.I never forgot those eyes.
I didn't know her name back then.But I never forgot her face.
And now she was mine.Fate didn't just play a game—it handed her to me like a loaded gun.
It's not in my blood to lose.Not when it comes to something I want.And she... she is the one thing I've ever wanted with every demon inside me screaming for her.
I didn't just fall for her.I claimed her—long before she ever saw me.
She just doesn't know it yet.
It's been a year.
Three hundred and sixty-five days of holding back. Of watching her walk around in those silk robes, brushing past me like she had no idea the kind of monster she was tempting.I hadn't touched her.Not once.Not until tonight.
And fuck—It was more addictive than I ever imagined.
Her skin against mine was silk laced with sin.She looked up at me, eyes dazed from sleep and fear, but there was trust too. A trust I didn't deserve—but would burn the world to protect.
She didn't even know what she did to me.How many nights I spent in agony, listening to her soft breathing in the next room, gripping the sheets like a man possessed, because I knew—If I touched her, it'd never be gentle.It'd never be innocent.It would be mine.She would be mine.
And tonight, she is.
Her body curled into me without hesitation, like her soul already knew.And when I finally laid my hand on her bare skin—just her waist, nothing more—my restraint snapped like a bone under pressure.
I didn't undress her.Didn't claim her yet.But I touched her.And that touch alone was a drug I'd never come back from.
My jaw clenched as I stared at the ceiling, every nerve lit like wildfire.
I was supposed to protect her.But how do you protect someone from yourself?