Chapter Two: The Price Of A Life
1028 Words
Five years ago, Giana got a call from her brother saying he was in danger and needed to lie low for a while, then she got the second call and rushed to his location only to enter a room she never would have thought would strip her of her innocence.
The walls of the room were wood paneled and luxurious, smelling faintly of leather and cigar smoke. The kind of room where decisions weren’t made with words.
they were made with fear, money or blood.
And in the center, her brother knelt, sweat glistening on his forehead, face pale and bruised.
He owed money. A lot of it.
Debt that wasn’t just numbers on paper. Debt that came with knives, and promises of disappearing forever.
“Please please” her brother gasped. “I can I’ll pay it back I just need more time”
The man across from him didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He didn’t even blink.
Ronan Volkov.
Pakhan. Fear made flesh.
Giana’s chest tightened. She had heard rumors of him stories whispered among hushed tones across the city. Men vanishing. Families ruined. Lives destroyed. All for debts, for betrayals, for offenses the world never even saw.
And here he was, in the flesh. In front of her. Watching her brother cower like prey.
She swallowed her fear. Hard.
“No please don’t hurt him” Her voice was small, but it cut through the room like a knife.
Her brother looked at her, eyes wide with panic.
“Giana, no”
“I said no.” She stepped forward. “He can’t die. Please.”
Ronan’s dark eyes lifted to her. He studied her like she was a puzzle he wanted to solve. A mouse daring to speak.
“You’re brave.” His voice was low, measured. “Or foolish.”
“Call it what you like,” she replied. “But he’s my brother. If you kill him, you kill me too.”
There was silence.
Then, slowly, deliberately, he leaned back in his chair, letting his presence fill the room.
“Interesting,” he murmured. “Very well.”
Giana felt her stomach twist. She had no idea what he meant.
“You will offer yourself then.”
Her heart skipped a beat.
“No,” she whispered, trembling.
“You will,” he said. “Or he dies.”
She froze.
The choice wasn’t real. She could not let her brother die. She could not. She had already lost their parents. Her brother was the only family she had left.
“Then” Her voice cracked, but her mind was made she couldn’t lose Gio.
“I’ll do it.”
Ronan’s eyes narrowed slightly. There was approval, disbelief or shock there,she couldn’t tell but what she could tell was that it was dangerous and unreadable.
The next day, she travelled with him to a private resort his family owned. Under the right circumstances she would have said it was the most beautiful place she has ever been to in her very normal, poor life.
Ronan gave her nothing in the way of explanation. No false promises. No gentle words.
Yet, there was an unspoken rule: this was temporary. One weekend. After that go back to your life. Forget me. Forget this.
Giana had nodded, but fear and tension were thick in the air. Every glance, every touch, every word carried weight. One mistake, one misstep could ruin her. Or worse.
And yet, beneath it all, something unexpected happened.
Ronan Volkov was more than a monster of reputation.
He was attentive. Precise. Protective in ways that were terrifying yet intimate. He never forced her, never pressured her. Every gesture, every touch was calculated. There was danger, yes, but also care. A strange kind of respect.
That first night, she lay awake tense and worried, watching the moonlight spill across the dark room. Her chest ached for what she had lost in life: family, safety, innocence. And yet, here was a man feared by all who treated her like she mattered.
She remembered his voice softly, when he had finally spoken:
“You’re not like the others.”
She had not known how to answer, so she had stayed silent.
The weekend filled with moments and exceptionally good s*x.
The way he took her for the first time , He was far from gentle but She loved every second of it. His moans as his duck was inside her and he told me he would ruin me for every other man and that he did.
She saw a side of him that the city never knew quiet laughter, patience, focus. He didn’t laugh often, but when he did, it was genuine and damn He was beautiful Jet black hair and a chiseled jawline with a subtle scar along the right side thin, pale, a reminder of battles past and those eyes the deepest blue, almost unnatural, like frozen water catching sunlight piercing, unforgettable,unreadable,and predatory.
By the time the sun rose on the last day, Giana felt delightfully sore, stretched and aching in all the right places.
Ronan, as always, watched her. His dark gaze was unreadable.
“You can go back,” he said, voice low. “This ends here.”
She wanted to argue. To beg him to stay, even for a moment. But she knew better and felt dirty for wanting to stay with the man that took her innocence for a price but instead she left.
Present day
Back in the city, back in the shadows of her life, Giana kept the memory close.
The memory of how he had looked at her.
The memory of his hands, careful, restrained.
The memory of his words “You’re not like the others.”
The memory of being noticed.
The memory of being seen.
She had survived that weekend. She had walked away. She had disappeared.
But the man she ran from the man who could destroy anyone with just a snap of his fingers had found her again.
And now that he did, he might remember every detail.
Every scar. Every curve. Every flicker of fear.
And he might want her back.
- Writer
