Claimed By The Enemy

Claiming his heirs

Four Years Later

The lunch rush was a blur of steam and grease. For four years, I had lived like a shadow. I wasn't Isabella Vitale anymore. I was just Izzy, a waitress who worked every double shift to pay for Valentina’s medicine and Alexander’s shoes.

I was in the kitchen, quickly checking on the twins. They were tucked in the small break corner, coloring quietly. Every time I looked at Alexander’s profile that sharp, royal jawline my heart stuttered. He was a constant reminder of the night I had been ruined.

"Izzy! Stop daydreaming," my coworker, Sarah, hissed, shoving a tray into my hands. "The guy at Table Nine is getting impatient. He didn't even look at the menu, he just demanded a double Scotch, neat. He looks like he could buy this whole block and burn it down for fun. Go, before he scares the other customers."

I took a deep breath, smoothing my stained apron. My hands shook as I carried the tray toward the corner.

The man sat in the shadows, his silhouette dark against the window. He was a mountain of expensive fabric and cold energy.

I gasped, nearly dropping the tray. His touch was electric. After four years of nothing, the feeling of a man’s hand on me his hand sent a traitorous jolt of heat straight to my core.

"You're late, Isabella."

The voice hit me like a physical weight. Deep, rough, and familiar. I looked up, and the world stopped.

It was him. The man from the bar, the man who had taken my innocence and left me with two heartbeats in my womb. His eyes stripped me bare, looking past my cheap uniform as if he could still see the marks he had left on my skin four years ago.

"I... I don't know who you are," I lied, though my n*****s peaked against the thin fabric of my bra at the sound of his voice. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would burst. "Please, let go. You're making a scene."

"Don't lie to me," he growled, his thumb grazing the sensitive pulse point on my wrist. It was a small movement, but it felt like fire. "I spent a lot of money making sure no one else found this place. You should be thanking me."

I pulled back, panicked, looking toward the kitchen. My children were right there. "I don't owe you anything! I don't even know your name!"

He stood up, and the restaurant seemed to shrink. He was huge, smelling of expensive tobacco, and raw power. He leaned over me, his scent filling my lungs, making my head spin.

"My name is Ivan Petrov," he said, his gaze dropping to my lips. "And you owe me four years of my life."

"Ivan..." The name felt like poison. I had heard that name in my father’s office. The Pakhan, the leader of the Bratva. I had slept with the devil. "What do you want? If it's money, I have nothing! Look at me!" I pointed to my stained apron.

“ I don't want your money, Princess," he rasped, his voice dropping to a low, carnal hum that vibrated in my chest. "I want what belongs to me. I want the two children hiding in the back room."

Fear and desire fought a war inside me. I swung my hand to slap him, but he caught my other wrist with effortless grace, pinning both my hands against his chest. I could feel the hard muscle beneath his suit, the steady, heavy thrum of his heart.

"Don't you dare" I hissed. I felt a mother’s rage. "Don't even speak about them. They aren't yours, they are mine. I gave birth to them alone while you lived in luxury. I fed them while I went hungry. You have no right to them!"

"I have every right" Ivan said. His eyes were like cold stone. "They have my blood, they have my face. Did you really think you could hide two Petrov heirs in a kitchen? My enemies are already looking for you. If I found you, they will too and they won't be nice."

"Nice?" I let out a shaky laugh. "You're threatening to kidnap my babies!"

"I'm trying to keep them alive" he snapped. He pulled a photo from his pocket. It was a picture of Alexander and Valentina playing in the park taken only yesterday.

I felt sick. "You've been watching us? You've been stalking my children?"

"I've been protecting them," he said. "Your father’s men were close to finding you last week. I handled them. The game is over, Isabella."

"I won't go" I whispered, tears falling. "I'll go to the police. I'll scream."

His gaze flicked to my neck, and I felt a phantom ache where he had bitten me all those years ago. He leaned down, his breath brushing my ear, sending a shiver of pure, unwanted lust down my spine.

"The police work for me. Your father is looking for a stain to erase. By tonight, you’ll be back in his hands unless you come with me. The car leaves in five minutes, Isabella. Don't make me choose for you."

I froze. I remembered my father’s slap, I remembered the door locking me out.

"They're just children" I sobbed. "Please, just leave them alone."

"I'm taking my family home," Ivan said. His voice was a bit softer, but his eyes were still hard. "You can come willingly, or I can take them and leave you here. The choice is yours but the car leaves in five minutes."

He let go of my wrists. He sat back down and picked up his drink as if nothing had happened and the loss of his heat felt like a cold slap. I stumbled back, my body humming with a terrifying, primal need to run and a darker, shameful urge to stay.

"Five minutes, Isabella" he murmured. "Don't make me choose for you."

I looked at the kitchen door, then back at the man who had just destroyed my life again. I had fought so hard for freedom, but I had been running straight into the predator's arms all along.

Ivan:

I stood in my study, the air thick with the scent of Scotch and the itch of an obsession that wouldn't die. On my desk, the laptop showed the live feed of Bella Vista

I watched her. My Isabella.

She was wearing a cheap, ugly apron that hid the curves I still remembered in the dark. I watched her tuck a stray hair behind her ear the same hair, I wanted to wrap around my fist while I reminded her who she belonged to.

"The Ricci family is moving, Pakhan," Sergei, my right hand man said, interrupting my dark thoughts. "They’ve been watching the park where the twins play."

The glass in my hand nearly shattered "How close did they get?"

"Close enough to take photos. They don't know the children are yours yet, they just think she’s a runaway Vitale they can use for ransom."

I turned away from the screen, my eyes flashing with a predatory light. "They touched my blood. They looked at my children through a camera lens, I want the man who took those photos dead by sunset."

"Understood" Sergei said. "But Ivan... you've kept her safe for four years. You paid those medical bills when the girl was sick, you made sure that landlord didn't evict her, If you go there now, everyone will know she’s alive. Your fiancée will know."

I looked back at the screen. I saw Isabella laughing at a joke from a customer, the sight made my blood boil with a dark, possessive jealousy.

"I’ve spent four years being her guardian angel in the dark" I rasped. "I let her think she escaped. I let her think she was free but the Ricci are sloppy. If they found her, it’s only a matter of time before they realize who those children belong to. The game is over."

"What are your orders?" Sergei asked.

“Tell Katerina we’re going out for lunch. Somewhere charming and local"

"You're going to bring the fiancée to the restaurant?" Sergei asked, shocked. "That’s a bloodbath, Ivan."

I grabbed my charcoal suit jacket.

"I'm done watching through a screen, Sergei. I'm going to collect what is mine."

The black SUV purred as it sat a block away from the restaurant. Next to me, Katerina, the woman I was forced to marry for power, was fixing her lipstick. She was a doll. Beautiful, elegant, and completely empty.

"Why are we at this dump, Ivan?" Katerina complained. "I thought we were having lunch at the Pierre."

"I felt like something local" I said. My eyes were fixed on the door of the restaurant.

"Give me five minutes" I told her, my voice a lethal command. "Stay in the car until I call you."

I stepped out of the vehicle. The afternoon sun was bright, but I felt like a shadow, I walked into the restaurant, the bell above the door jingling.

I sat at Table Nine and waited. When she finally walked over, her hands were shaking. She didn't recognize me at first.

When she set the drink down, I grabbed her. Her wrist was so thin, too thin. It made my chest tighten with a strange, angry pain.

"You're late, Isabella" I said.

I watched her world crumble in her eyes. I watched her lie to me, fight me, and even try to slap me. She had fire in her now, the fire of a mother. It made me want her even more.

"I'm taking my family home" I told her. I gave her five minutes. Not because I was being fair, but because I wanted her to realize she had no other choice.

I sat back and watched her walk toward the kitchen. I felt the silver

locket in my pocket I had kept her picture in, I didn't need the picture anymore. I had the woman and by tonight, she would realize that she was never truly free. She was always mine.