Babies Of The Don+18

Author's POV Five years ago, before blood debts and betrayal fractured half the underground world of Europe, Aleksandr Mikeal Volkov arrived in Barcelona for business. Aleksandr was an Alpha male in every terrifying sense of the word. Powerful. Dominant. Dangerous. The kind of man people sensed before they even saw him. His presence alone could silence rooms. Men lowered their gazes instinctively around him while women watched from afar with fascination and caution. Russian-born and raised within violence, Aleksandr ruled one of the most feared mafia syndicates stretching from Moscow to southern Europe. He was ruthless in business, merciless in war, and emotionally unreachable. At twenty-nine, he trusted nobody. Especially not women. So when he stepped into a crowded bar near the coast of Barcelona and saw the beauty talking to her friends,he nearly stopped breathing. Then he saw her. Thessira Aurelion stood near the dance floor laughing with her friends, completely unaware that the most dangerous man in the room had just become obsessed with the sound of her voice. She was beautiful in a way that hurt to look at directly. Olive skin glowing beneath amber lights. Voluminous brown curls tumbling over bare back almost reaching her hips. Soft lips curved into a careless smile, green eyes darting around. But it was more than beauty. Mine. The possessiveness nearly startled him. Aleksandr gripped his whiskey glass harder while watching her move through the crowd. Every instinct inside him sharpened violently. Protective. Territorial. Hungry. One of his men noticed immediately. “You like her?”his beta Viktor asked quietly in Russian. Aleksandr didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. His gaze never left her. Thessira eventually looked toward him—and froze. For one suspended moment, the entire room disappeared around them. She felt it too. Not fully. Not consciously. But enough. Enough to make her pulse quicken. Enough to pull her toward him despite the warning bells screaming inside her head. She approached slowly. “You’ve been staring at me for ten minutes,” she said lightly. Aleksandr’s lips twitched faintly. “And you still came over.” Something dangerous flickered between them immediately. Thessira sat beside him, unaware she had just stepped directly into the orbit of a predator who would burn cities for her if necessary. “I’m Thessira but my friends call me Tessy.” “Aleksandr.” His deep Russian accent wrapped around his name like velvet over steel. She liked it instantly. “What brings a Russian man all the way to Spain?” she asked. “Work.” “What kind?” His eyes held hers steadily. “The dangerous kind.” Most women would have laughed nervously and left. Sofía smiled instead. “Well, at least you’re honest.” That nearly made him laugh. For hours they talked while Barcelona pulsed outside beneath summer heat. Aleksandr learned she loved old bookstores, felt safe thunderstorms, and dreamed of seeing snow someday. Thessira learned almost nothing about him. Only fragments. That he was wealthy. Powerful. Lonely. The loneliness surprised her most. Despite the expensive suit, the watch worth more than most cars, and the terrifying men watching from nearby tables, Aleksandr carried exhaustion in his eyes that no amount of money could erase. “You look sad,” Thessira murmured eventually. Aleksandr stared at her carefully. “No one says things like that to me.” “Maybe they should.” "Mine." The word kept echoing inside him. He wanted to take her immediately. Love her. Keep her hidden somewhere safe where nobody could touch her. The intensity of the instinct frightened even him. Outside, rain eventually began pouring over Barcelona streets. Thessira laughed while running beneath awnings with Aleksandr close behind her. He watched rainwater cling to her face. Watched her smile. Watched his entire carefully controlled world unravel in real time. When she slipped slightly on the wet pavement, Aleksandr caught her instantly, pulling her firmly against his chest. The contact changed everything. Aleksandr inhaled sharply he hated physical contact but with her it felt different. Thessira gasped softly. “Oh my God…” she whispered. Aleksandr looked at her like a starving man seeing salvation. Then he kissed her. Hard. Possessive. Hungry. Thessira melted against him immediately, fingers gripping his soaked shirt while thunder cracked overhead. The fire between them pulsed painfully strong now, impossible to ignore. Mine. Aleksandr had spent years controlling every violent instinct inside himself. Around her, control became fragile. He took her back to his penthouse overlooking the Mediterranean. The city glittered below them while storms rolled across the sea. Thessira wandered through the luxurious suite trying to calm the strange pull inside her chest. “What is this?” she whispered eventually. Aleksandr stood near the balcony watching her with dark unreadable eyes. “You want to know” It wasn’t a question. Thessira nodded slowly. The attraction terrified her. Every glance from him felt intimate. Every touch overwhelming. When he finally touched her again, she shivered so hard he nearly lost control entirely. That night changed both of them forever. Not because of desire alone. But for the future of both of them. Every kiss felt consuming. Every touch unbearably intimate. Aleksandr held her afterward like something precious, one large hand resting protectively against her stomach while Thessira lay against his chest listening to his heartbeat. For the first time in decades, Aleksandr felt peace. Real peace. “Don.” The quiet Russian voice came from the doorway the next morning. Thessira startled awake to find Viktor standing there respectfully. Aleksandr immediately moved in front of her protectively, irritation flashing across his face. “Out.” Viktor obeyed instantly. But Thessira noticed the gun beneath his jacket. And the guns carried by the men outside the suite. Fear began creeping in slowly then. “Who are you really?” she asked softly. Aleksandr stayed silent too long. That silence answered enough. Later that afternoon, while Aleksandr attended a meeting downstairs, Sofía searched his name online. Her blood ran cold. Murder. Mafia. Russian syndicates. Violence across Europe. Aleksandr Volkov was not simply dangerous. He was monstrous. And yet… He had held her so gently. That contradiction terrified her most. When Aleksandr returned hours later, the suite was empty. Gone. No note. No goodbye. Only the fading scent of jasmine remaining in the sheets. For the first time in years, Aleksandr felt panic. Real panic. “She left?” Viktor asked carefully. Aleksandr stood perfectly still in the middle of the suite. Then something inside him snapped. The room exploded. Glass shattered against walls. Tables overturned. Rage rolled off him so violently even his own men backed away. “Find her.” His voice sounded inhuman. “She is mine.” And so the search began. Across Spain, Aleksandr hunted for the woman fate had given him only to steal away again. But Sofía disappeared completely. •|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|• Weeks later, hidden inside a small apartment far from Barcelona, Thessira sat trembling in a bathroom staring at two pink lines. Pregnant. Her breath caught painfully. One trembling hand moved to her stomach. Aleksandr’s child. She knew it instinctively. The way he loved her still lingered faintly inside her chest, aching every night she spent away from him. even if she didn't understand what made her miss him after just one night. Part of her missed him desperately. But fear won. Because she knew men like Aleksandr destroyed everything they touched eventually. And she refused to raise a child surrounded by blood and violence. So she ran farther. Another city. Another country. Another identity. All while the Don searching for her slowly became more dangerous with every passing month. Aleksandr never stopped hunting. Not for five years. Some nights he stood on his balcony overlooking Moscow’s frozen skyline, her face still alive inside him like an open wound. Somewhere out there was his Thessira. And his child. Hidden from him. But he didn't know that. But fate had tied their souls together long before Thessira fled Spain. And things like that were impossible to outrun forever