Chapter Three: The Memory He Couldnt Kill
1171 Words
Ronan Volkov did not believe in ghosts.
He believed in enemies, he believed in leverage, he believed in Fate.
But ghosts?
No.
And yet for five years, one had followed him everywhere.
Not in nightmares, not in regret but in memory.
Her eyes.
Her voice.
Her scent.
The way she had stood in front of him like she had already accepted death but refused to beg for it.
Giana.
Even now, sitting in the back of his car after leaving the restaurant, he could still see her exactly as she had been that night years ago.
Young.
Terrified.
Unbreakable.
His fingers tightened slightly against the leather armrest.
Most women cried in his presence.
Most tried to bargain.
Most tried to seduce their way.
She had done none of those things.
She had simply said:
“He’s my brother.”
No manipulation.
No performance.
Just the truth.
That alone had been enough to interest him.
The weekend that followed had only made it worse.
A dangerous memory.
He had told himself it meant nothing.
Told himself she was temporary.
Told himself he would forget.
He had been wrong.
Very wrong.
After she left, he had expected to never think about her again.
Instead, he found himself remembering small things.
The way she studied rooms before entering them.
The way she hid fear behind quiet strength.
The way she listened when he spoke instead of pretending.
Details he should not have cared about.
Details he tried to erase.
For months, he ignored it.
For a year, he suppressed it.
By the second year, irritation replaced denial.
By the third, he did something he never did.
He looked for her.
Not openly.
Not emotionally.
Just… efficiently.
A simple instruction.
“Find her.”
Normally, his orders produced results within days.
Weeks at most.
But this time he got nothing in response
Nothing.
No records.
No employment trail.
No financial footprint.
No hospital files.
No school records.
No digital history.
It was as if she had been erased and he had imagined her.
But that wasn't true. One could not make up the amazing s*x they had that weekend.
Her body willing and welcoming
Her moans and the way her cunt was made just for his d**k.
It was a sight engraved in his memory the way her eyes rolled when she was about to have an orgasm.
That had annoyed him more than her disappearance.
Because disappearance meant intention.
Someone had taught her how to vanish.
Or she had learned herself.
Either possibility fascinated him.
His men searched for six months.
Then a year.
Eventually Anton had asked:
“Do you want us to continue?”
Ronan had said no.
Not because he stopped caring.
Because he did not like wasting resources on lost causes.
So he did what he always did.
He buried it.
Work expanded.
Territory grew.
Enemies disappeared.
Money multiplied.
And still
Sometimes
Usually late at night
He would remember the only woman who had ever left his world unraveled then he would stroke himself until he blew his load to the mental image he had of her
Five years later he had almost succeeded in forgetting.
Almost.
Then she walked into his table tonight carrying a wine bottle like fate had decided he wasn’t finished yet.
His jaw tightened slightly.
Of all the cities.
Of all the restaurants.
Of all the nights.
There she was still as beautiful as he remembered
More curves filling out perfectly on her petite frame.
His body had an immediate reaction to her presence. No woman has ever made him captivated
And here she was still pretending she didn’t know him.
That had almost amused him.
Almost.
The car stopped outside his penthouse tower.
He didn’t get out immediately.
“Anton.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Everything.”
Anton didn’t ask what that meant.
He knew.
“Her current identity. Financials. Housing. Connections. History reconstruction. Daily routine.”
A pause.
“Everything.”
Anton nodded.
“Already started.”
Of course he had.
That was why Anton was still alive.
“Report.”
Anton opened his tablet.
“Name: Giana Russo. Identity created five years ago. No history before that point.”
Expected.
“Employment?”
“Waitress. Multiple locations over five years. Never stays more than a year.”
Running pattern, survival pattern.
Ronan’s eyes hardened slightly.
“Residence?”
“Small apartment poor neighborhood, no luxury purchases”
Careful. Very careful.
Not careless like most people who wanted to vanish, Interesting.
“Connections?”
Anton paused slightly.
“Very limited.”
Good.
That meant fewer complications.
Then Anton added:
“She has children.”
Ronan’s gaze lifted slowly.
Children.
That did not fit the woman he remembered.
“Explain.”
“Twins. Approximately four years old. Boy and girl.”
Ronan leaned back slightly.
Children meant vulnerability.
Children meant responsibility.
Children meant leverage.
His voice remained neutral.
“Father?”
“Unknown. No official record.”
He nodded once.
Not his concern.
Not relevant.
What mattered was how this changed her behavior.
Everything made more sense now.
The relocation patterns.
The financial caution.
The isolation.
She wasn’t protecting herself.
She was protecting them.
That was predictable.
Ronan studied the city lights through the glass.
Five years ago she traded herself to save her brother.
Now she was living quietly to protect her children.
Sacrifice? He mused silently
Anton continued:
“No romantic partner in the picture as far as I can tell.”
Also interesting
Another pause.
Ronan finally stepped out of the vehicle.
Cold air hit his face.
His mind was already moving three steps ahead.
She had built a life.
A careful life.
A fragile life.
And now fate had put her back in his path.
People did not reappear in Ronan Volkov’s life by accident.
Everything had a purpose.
Everything had an end result.
His blue eyes darkened slightly.
Five years ago he had let her walk away.
That had been a mistake.
He did not repeat mistakes.
Anton waited quietly beside him.
Ronan spoke without looking at him.
“Continue surveillance.”
“Yes boss.”
“Quietly.”
“Yes.”
“If she attempts to relocate inform me first before you intervene”
Anton nodded.
Ronan looked up at the city skyline.
Somewhere out there she was probably putting her children to bed.
Probably believing she was still hidden.
Probably believing she still had control.
A dangerous illusion.
Because Ronan Volkov had found her again.
And this time
He wasn’t interested in losing track of her.
Not again.
Not ever.
His voice dropped to something colder.
More final.
“People who enter my world do not leave permanently.”
Anton said nothing.
Because they both knew what that meant.
Ronan turned toward the building entrance.
Already calculating.
Already deciding.
Because one thought had begun forming clearly in his mind.
He had an obsession and if fate had brought her back
This time
He would make sure she never disappeared again
She was going to be his.
- Writer
