CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON.

A New Kind Of Beginning.

A wave of exhaustion washed over me as I sat at my desk. The low hum of the computer screen was the only sound in the office, a stark contrast to the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my head.

I stared at the report, but the words blurred into a meaningless jumble. My mind was on my mother, her calls a steady stream of notifications I couldn't bring myself to answer. How do you explain this? How do you lie about leaving your entire life behind for a man you barely know, a man whose very name was enough to incite fear?

The anxiety was a physical weight in my chest. Work, once a source of calm, now felt like a fragile distraction from a life spinning out of control.

My two suitcases sat by the door, packed this morning. Not that there was much in them; Vladimir had insisted on light luggage, assuring me that everything I could possibly need was already waiting for me. But as I stared at the empty space on the desk where my personal photos usually were, I knew he was wrong. Everything I needed was here. My entire life, packed into a few boxes I wouldn't be taking with me. A heavy sigh escaped me as the reality of it all settled in.

Today was the day I was leaving it all behind, with a man my family would surely hate.

My two "bitches," as I'd taken to calling them, stood sentry by the door, their presence a constant, if unsettling, reminder of my new reality. Alexie, ever the immovable object, and Ivan, whose stony facade was slowly starting to c***k.

"Why do you work?" Ivan’s voice, a low rumble, broke the silence.

I glanced up to see him and Alexie standing by the door, their presence a silent, imposing wall.

"Vladimir treats you like a queen."

I let out a tired sigh, running a hand over my face.

"He's not here, so you don't have to be a 'yes man.'" I paused, my gaze drifting back to the screen.

"You don't understand. This is how I relieve stress. It gives me a sense of purpose and control when everything else feels like it’s being swept away." I couldn't tell them the truth. That my control was a flimsy shield against the tidal wave of a new life I was terrified to embrace.

The door opened, and Vladimir walked in. He held a brown paper bag, and a rare, soft smile touched his lips the moment he saw me. He was impeccably sharp in a dark suit, yet the intensity of his gaze was what truly held my attention. He walked to my desk, leaning down to kiss the top of my head, then my lips.

The touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the ruthless man I'd heard whispers about, and it never failed to surprise me.

I pulled away, a genuine laugh escaping me as I saw Ivan and Alexie with their faces turned to the wall, a clear flush of embarrassment on their stoic features.

"Are you two shy now?" I teased.

"Let's go," Vladimir said, his hand already on my waist, pulling me to my feet.

"We will eat in car."

I wanted to protest, to say I had more to do, but the truth was, the fight had gone out of me. It was past one, and the exhaustion was seeping into my bones. I let out a sigh of resignation and took his hand.

As we walked out, I noticed it again, the subtle, almost unconscious way he reached for me, a constant need to have me close.

I paused at Caroline's office, giving her a deep hug. "I'll miss you like crazy," she whispered, her eyes welling up with tears.

"Please don't go."

I pulled back, a small, sad smile on my face.

"Tell that to him," I said, gesturing toward Vladimir.

Caroline's eyes went wide with fear, and she shook her head vehemently.

"I'd rather stab myself than be in the same room with him for too long," she whispered, a shiver running down her spine.

I shared one last laugh with her, a brief moment of normalcy, before saying my final goodbye and joining Vladimir. We walked out of the building hand in hand, the two guards trailing behind us, a constant reminder of the world we were leaving behind.

"Oh," I said, remembering something. "I have a doctor's appointment. The last one before we leave. I hope you don't mind."

"Not a problem," he replied, squeezing my hand.

He directed the driver, and soon we were at a modern, sleek hospital. As we walked in, I felt the familiar tension rise. People averted their eyes, a mix of fear and curiosity in their gazes. Vladimir, oblivious, maintained his usual cold, impenetrable expression.

We were led to an examination room, and a few moments later, a young male doctor walked in. He had a friendly smile, but the second Vladimir saw him, he froze, his body language turning instantly hostile.

"I will not have him touch you," Vladimir stated, his voice low and dangerous.

I rolled my eyes.

"If you want an early flight, you'll cooperate and shut the f**k up," I hissed, pushing him back towards the wall.

He grumbled, but he stayed put, his eyes never leaving the doctor.

The doctor, whose name was Dr. Chen, was pleasant and professional. He asked me a series of questions, his gaze focused entirely on me. When he had to do the physical examination, Vladimir watched with a hawk's eye, his body tense and coiled.

I shot him a look, and he grudgingly backed off a few inches, though his eyes never left the doctor's hands.

Finally, he turned to the ultrasound.

"Well," Dr. Chen said, a bright smile on his face as he looked at the screen,

"it seems you're about three weeks along, and everything looks perfect." He paused, a look of surprise crossing his face.

"In fact, I'm detecting two heartbeats."

The words hit me like a physical blow. Two heartbeats. One was already more than I could handle. The thought of two felt like a cosmic joke, a cruel twist of fate I wasn't prepared for.

My heart began to pound, a frantic, terrified rhythm against my ribs. My world, which was already tilted on its axis, began to spin. Two babies. Two lives completely dependent on me, and on a man who was more comfortable with violence than with tenderness. The fear was a cold wave, washing over me and leaving me breathless.

I looked at Vladimir. His expression, so often a mask of cold indifference, was completely shattered. The shock was clear on his face, but beneath it was something I'd never seen before: a look of pure, unadulterated awe.

His eyes, usually so hard and calculating, were wide with a bewildered wonder that made his formidable exterior c***k completely. He looked utterly vulnerable, a man who had faced down countless enemies but was completely undone by the image of two tiny blips on a screen.

As the doctor reached out to touch my arm to congratulate me, Vladimir's hand shot out, grabbing his wrist in an iron grip.

"Do not touch her again," he growled. The doctor, pale with fear, stammered out an apology.

I practically had to drag Vladimir out of the hospital, my own fear mixing with frustration at his behavior. "You can't do that!" I exclaimed once we were in the car.

"He was just being friendly!"

"He was being too friendly," Vladimir muttered, his gaze still hard.

I sighed, shaking my head. It was a pointless argument.

The car ride away from the hospital was filled with a tense, heavy silence. The shock of the twins, the fear, the exhilaration, it all hung in the air between us, a thick cloud of unspoken emotions. I stared out the window, watching the city lights blur into streaks of color, trying to process it all. Beside me, Vladimir was a study in controlled fury.

His jaw was clenched, his knuckles white on his knees. He was still fuming over Dr. Chen, a grown man acting like a petulant child who hadn't gotten his way. The whole scene had been a strange, almost absurd display of possessiveness, and I found myself torn between annoyance and a weird, reluctant fondness. I chose to ignore his silent tantrum, letting him stew in his own cold anger. It was a small victory, a little piece of my independence I was determined to hold onto.

The car pulled up to a private terminal at the airport, a stark contrast to the bustling crowds of the main terminal. It was sleek and modern, with minimal staff and a palpable sense of exclusivity. My two "guards," Ivan and Alexie, moved with a practiced efficiency, their presence a silent reminder of the new life I was stepping into. I got out of the car, my heart a frantic drumbeat against my ribs.

I looked at the jet waiting on the tarmac, its dark, polished exterior gleaming in the sun. A profound sense of dread, cold and sharp, pierced through the shock of the twins. This was it. This was the moment I would leave everything behind.

My career, the city I called home, and, most importantly, my family. The thought of my mother, the calls I had been avoiding, was a fresh wave of guilt. Was I doing the right thing? Was Vladimir genuine, or was this all some elaborate scheme to control me? The question felt like a lead weight in my stomach.

I let out a deep, shaky sigh, my mind a whirlwind of doubt and fear. It was as if Vladimir could read my mind. He reached for my hand, his fingers brushing against mine. I recoiled, pulling my hand back as if I had been burned. I walked ahead, entering the plane without a backward glance, needing space, needing to breathe.

I chose a seat by the window, as far from him as I could get, and stared out at the tarmac, trying to ground myself.

A moment later, his presence was beside me. He didn't speak at first, just stood there, a silent, imposing figure. Then, he gently pulled me to my feet wrapping his arms around me. His touch was firm but not restraining.

"I know what you are thinking," he said, his voice a low, rough murmur close to my ear.

"You think I am a monster who is using you. You think you are losing everything."

I didn't answer, just leaned into his chest, my own tumultuous emotions a silent testament to the truth of his words.

"But I will not let you lose. I will fight for your trust," he continued, his voice filled with an earnestness that was both startling and disarming. There was no hint of his usual cold indifference, just a raw, honest vulnerability.

It was a side of him I was seeing more and more, and it terrified me. It was a new, unnamed emotion that was taking root in my heart, and I wasn't ready to confront what it meant.

"I am not letting go. All I need from you is a chance. A small one. I want to be a good man for you and for our babies."

He kissed the top of my head, a tender, possessive gesture that both comforted and scared me.

He then sat down in the seat beside me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders, a silent promise. And in that moment, as the plane began to move, I allowed myself to hope, a tiny flicker of light in the vast, overwhelming darkness of my fear.