
Tarnished Tyrant - A Mafia Romance
I got pregnant from a one-night-stand.
I wasn't going to tell the father...
Until I walked into the office and found out he's my new boss.
Here's some advice: Don't sleep with your boss.
Here's some more: Don't sleep with your married boss.
And while I'm at it: Don't sleep with your married, dangerous, billionaire, completely-incapable-of-feeling boss, because all he's going to do is break your heart and your body and leave you to cry in the ashes.
But I've never been good at taking my own advice.
In my defense, I didn't know that Nikolai Zhukova was any of those things when we met.
I just thought he was the gray-eyed sinner in first class.
And when I started having a panic attack at the sudden turbulence, I thought he was the kind soul calming me down.
But Nikolai is the farthest thing from kind.
He's cruel, he's powerful, he's arrogant.
And now, according to the test in my hand...
He's the father of my baby.
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Chapter 6
I hang up with her and hurry into the building. The first elevator is crammed full, so I wait three more minutes for an open one and then zip up to the thirty-fifth floor.
As soon as the doors open, I'm facing a rounded wooden desk with "Zhukova Incorporated" emblazoned on the side in gold letters. The woman behind the desk has sleek black hair and a long, narrow face with impossibly high cheekbones. She looks like she could have a second career in modeling.
"Appointment?" she asks in a flat voice.
"Oh, um... Yes. Well, no." I smile awkwardly. "I'm here to do the audit. My boss, Roger, was supposed to be with me, but-"
"Belle Dowan," she interrupts. "Follow me."
She stands up, her fitted pencil skirt hugging her skinny waist and closely following the swell of her hips. The woman is stupid gorgeous. I have a hard time keeping up with her as she sashays down the hallway.
Finally, she stops outside of an office door and raps her knuckles against the wood. A second later, she opens the door.
"Arnold? Belle Dowan is here to see you for the audit."
If someone told me the woman was a robot rigged with a library of pre-recorded messages, I'd believe them. She sounds lifeless.
An equally lifeless "Enter" sounds from inside the office. The woman waves me into the room and then closes the door behind me.
I have to blink against the sudden gloom. It's like stepping into a dungeon.
"Sorry," Arnold says. "I'm sensitive to light."
I hear a chair spin and then I'm blinded a second time with piercing white light as he pulls the cord for his window shades.
"You're here for the audit, then," he remarks.
It's a statement, not a question. I stumble into the room, my eyes still trying to adjust.
"Yes." I grab the back of a leather chair and maneuver around it. "I'm Belle. A colleague, Roger, was supposed to be here with me, but due to... unforeseen circumstances, I'll be handling this audit alone."
"Is everything alright?"
Considering Roger is probably sipping on cocktails beachside right now, I'd say yeah, he's fine.
"He is." I force a smile. "Thanks for your concern."
Arnold clears his throat. "You won't suffer the same unforeseen circumstances?"
"I'm sorry?"
"We expect punctuality. Dependability. Loyalty." His eyes seem to glimmer on the last quality, lingering on me for a moment before he turns his attention to a stack of papers in sudden need of straightening on his desk.
I nod. "I understand. Absolutely. I know I'm running late today, but this is not standard for me. My flight got in this morning and then I couldn't get a taxi. I'll be better the rest of the week."
I can't tell whether Arnold is convinced or not, because he refuses to look at me. He grabs the stack from his desk and swivels around to tuck it in the filing cabinet behind him.
"You've worked on the audit prior to arriving here today, correct?"
I nod and then clear my throat. "Yes. I was one of... of many who participated in the early stages of the auditing process."
This isn't entirely true. Actually, it's not even a little bit true. Roger kept all of the files in his office. He let me work on some smaller clients, but he kept Zhukova Incorporated for himself. Today will be my first time seeing any of the paperwork or numbers.
"Great." He rifles through the folders in the file cabinet, pulling some out at random. "Then I'll need the finishing touches on this nonsense completed in three days. No later."
Thankfully, he is no longer looking at me because my jaw drops. "Three days?"
"That was the previously agreed-upon arrangement."
"Yes," I admit. "I know it was. But-"
"You've had six weeks prior to this with our documents," Arnold continues. "Did you do your job or not? I was under the impression that the week spent here was just putting finishing touches on everything."
"We did our job," I rush to explain. "It's just that... the timeline was set when my colleague was going to be here with me. Now, I'm working alone."
Arnold turns around and glowers. "That does not change the parameters of the job we hired you to do. Three days. It's not a negotiation."
I feel overwhelmed tears burning the backs of my eyes, but I refuse to cry in front of this man. Not on my first day.
"Arnold-sir," I correct, "I may have misspoken slightly. My colleague handled many of the documents related to this audit. I'll need at least a day, maybe two, to review the information he has put together. To familiarize myself. Then I can begin the process."
"And the 'process' will take you...?"
"Three or four days, at least."
"I may not be some hoity-toity accountant like you," he says sarcastically, "but I am the Vice President of Financing. And I'm fairly sure that the two days of familiarizing and three days of processing... Well, that adds up to five days. Is that correct?"
I grit my teeth. "Yes, it is."
"Two days too many," he snarls. "Three is what you get. Like I said, it's not a negotiation."
If I slap this smug man in his face, I'll lose my job. Then again, maybe that isn't such a bad thing.
But as soon as the thought flits through my mind, I see Elise's face. And I take a deep breath.
"I understand you must have a schedule to keep," I tell him, "and I'm sorry if my company is playing a part in making your life more difficult. That's not our objective. But I simply can't do my job properly in three days."
Arnold leans back in his chair. The springs squeal. "Now, we reach the heart of the matter-your job. I'm sure you have your own idea of what that entails, but I think I have a solution that will see this job done in three days. Would you like to hear it?"
No. Double no. Triple no with a side of "fuck you."
But I nod. "Of course."
He smiles. "Our company does a lot of business. Money changes hands. It moves from one account to another. We gain it, we lose it. That's business."
"That's all businesses, as far as I've been able to tell."
Arnold's smile sharpens. "Yes. Well, it's understandable, then, that some of that money might... disappear."
"Disappear?"
"Disappear," he repeats. "Get lost in the shuffle of things. Do you understand?"
Holy shit. Yes, I understand. I understand perfectly.
This man is embezzling from Zhukova Incorporated.
My neck suddenly feels very hot.
Roger never trained me to handle something like this. These kinds of issues would normally be discovered while we're still working on the audit from our own offices. This isn't something that would be uncovered this late in the game.
But I haven't seen Zhukova's files yet. Roger has.
Suddenly, realization dawns. No wonder that asswipe is in Aruba.
He's a coward. He knew.
I paste on a thin smile. "Disappearances like that are the kinds of problems I'm supposed to find and account for. That's my job."
"Of course. You have your job, and I have mine. You're good at your job, I'm sure. And I'm good at mine. Would you agree?" Arnold asks.
I stiffen in the chair. The light from the windows seems like a spotlight now. Maybe that's why Arnold keeps his blinds pulled-so he can do his dirty deeds in the dark.
"That's what I'm going to find out during this audit," I say.
He laughs humorlessly. "Well, there's really no need for it. I'll tell you what I've told every auditor we've ever had: I'm a professional. Nothing happens in this company's accounts that I don't know about. So if you find unaccounted surpluses or losses, you can assume I already know. There's no reason to report any of it. Business can sometimes be messy, as I'm sure you know."
He gave this same speech to Roger? To Georgia?
And they agreed?
I study Arnold's face, trying to decide if this is some sort of test. He's just staring back at me, waiting.
"What you're asking me to do is illegal," I say flatly. "I'm going to do my job exactly as I've been trained. And if you've been doing yours, then there shouldn't be a problem."
He looks surprised I'm pushing back, but not rattled. I have a feeling it takes a lot to rattle a scumbag like this.
"You'll do as I say or you'll be replaced. I will send you home right now."
"You're one of our biggest clients," I blurt, even though I'm sure he already knows.
"And what do you think would happen, Miss Dowan, if you lost your company one of their biggest clients?"
I blink at him. "Are you blackmailing me?"
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8.7
Explicit 18+ | Reader Discretion Strongly Advised
Dark themes, noncon/dubcon, extreme kink, power imbalance, group dynamics, knotting, overstimulation, and possessive claiming ahead.
A brutal omegaverse world. Warring packs. Rare silver-eyed omega Kai Voss lives hidden until a midnight raid destroys his safety.
The most feared triad captures him: Thorne Blackwood, a pierced sadist who pushes limits; Aurelius Voss, the volatile second, his knot pulsing with hunger; Cassian Reyes, the silent, amber-eyed observer whose fixation vows complete ownership. Dragged to their mountain den, Kai becomes their prize.
Defiant and sharp-tongued, Kai resists every command. His body betrays him with slick, aching need. On the first night, the alphas take him, one by one, then together. They stretch him past reason. Knot him impossibly. Fill him until his rim thins visibly. Slick eases the searing burn into shattering pleasure.
"Room for one more?" Thorne growls, forcing his pierced length beside the two already locked inside. He drags across sensitive spots until Kai arches, tears falling, his body yielding as omega instincts beg for more.
Three cocks locked and throbbing, owning him entirely.
"Fuck, he's taking us all," Aurelius groans.
Cassian watches silently, eyes blazing, plotting the next step to remake Kai forever.
Raw conquest becomes unbreakable obsession: relentless heats, punishments blending pain and ecstasy, jealous rivalries over cries, rare tenderness binding possession deeper.
Three ruthless alphas pursue the forbidden, shattering their defiant omega until he is stretched wide, ruined, reborn in their image. Relentless desire shows no mercy: tight entrances forced open, rimmed raw by impossible girths, slick-soaked and pulsing under unyielding ownership.
Hide and read in secret. Once the story begins, escape is impossible. Squirm. Ache. Hunger for every page.
DON'T BLAME ME WHEN YOU CAN'T STOP READING ALL 150 CHAPTERS ⚠️🔞‼️

7.6
When the Pollard family kicked Alyssa out into the freezing rain, Walter threw a ten-thousand-dollar check into a dirty puddle.
"Take it and get out. Don't ever come back," he sneered.
Her adoptive mother and stepsister stood on the mansion's porch, mocking her as a worthless country girl who tarnished their wealthy name. They laughed, claiming she wouldn't even be able to afford community college and would be begging on the streets in a week.
They looked at her cheap clothes and worn backpack with absolute disgust.
They were completely unaware that for the past five years, Alyssa was the secret mastermind who had built their failing gallery into a multi-million-dollar investment empire.
Every key investment, every fortune they made, came from the anonymous notes she had slipped into their unread books. They genuinely believed they were business geniuses, while treating the true architect of their wealth like a stray dog.
Looking at their smug, arrogant faces, Alyssa didn't feel a shred of sadness, only a cold, sharp irony.
They actually believed they had raised her.
She stepped close, whispered the master code to Walter's most secret offshore account, and watched the blood completely drain from his face.
"I raised you," she said, turning her back on the mansion without hesitation.
Walking into the storm, she pulled out a heavily encrypted phone and gave a single, cold order.
"Initiate a full hostile takeover of the Pollard Group."
It was time to end this little game and step into her true life—as the world's most elusive medical genius, and the long-lost billionaire heiress of the Summers dynasty.

9.1
I drowned in freezing pool water, the mocking laughter of the elite Savage family echoing in my ears.
When I opened my eyes, I was an eight-year-old orphan again, right on the day those monsters came to adopt me.
Terrified of repeating my hellish past, I ran down the hallway and desperately grabbed the shirt of a random, dumpy IT guy, begging him to take me instead.
I thought I had chosen a weak, boring suburban dad to hide behind.
But I was completely wrong.
My new mom greeted me with a ceramic tactical knife hidden in her apron.
My clumsy dad sliced dinner ribs with the terrifying precision of a seasoned hitman.
My ten-year-old brother was a dead-eyed sociopath who immediately calculated my bone density.
They were a family of lethal underworld monsters, yet they frantically pretended to be a normal, pathetic household just for me.

7.8
For five years, I was the flawless wife to the heir of the De Luca empire, securing billion-dollar acquisitions to prove my worth.
But my husband, Alessandro, still paraded his mistress in our home, publicly humiliating me as a "cold spreadsheet" while she sneered in triumph.
It didn't stop at infidelity. When I dared to cut off her credit cards, Alessandro decided to teach me a lesson.
He allowed his mistress to secretly file down the metal clasp on my horse's saddle right before a massive public equestrian event.
My leg was completely shattered in a horrific, agonizing fall in front of hundreds of elite guests.
While I lay bleeding in the dirt, my husband didn't even glance my way. Instead, he rushed to hold his mistress, shielding her eyes from the gruesome sight.
Later, pretending to be unconscious in the infirmary, I overheard him ordering his guards.
"Get rid of the saddle. It was just a lesson to remind her who's in charge."
He didn't just want me humiliated; he wanted me crippled and broken.
As the sterile smell of the hospital hit me, a horrifying realization set in—I was two weeks late. I was pregnant with his child.
The thought of my baby growing up in this ruthless, toxic family made my blood run cold, and the last spark of my love turned into absolute hatred.
The obedient wife died on that dirt track.
I quietly contacted his family's biggest rival and activated my secret scorched-earth protocol. It was time to burn his empire to the ground.

9.6
was a witness to a murder I wasn't supposed to see. I expected a bullet; I got a golden cage."
Ivy Thorne is a nobody-a struggling cellist with a mountain of medical bills and a past she can't remember. Her life changes in a heartbeat when she witnesses Kaelen Volkov, the Mafia's most lethal enforcer, executing a traitor in a dark alley.
She should be dead. But Kaelen doesn't pull the trigger. Instead, he sees the star-shaped birthmark on her neck and makes a choice that will ignite a war. To save her from his father's wrath, he claims her as his own.
Now, Ivy is trapped in a world of blood and silk, forced to play the role of Kaelen's devoted fiancée. He's cold, scarred, and dangerous, yet he treats her like a priceless treasure he's been waiting years to reclaim. As the lines between her fear and her desire begin to blur, Ivy realizes that Kaelen isn't just protecting her from the Mafia-he's hiding a secret about her past that could shatter her world.
In the Volkov empire, loyalty is everything and debt is paid in blood. But for Ivy, the highest price might be her heart.

9.2
I am the last surviving Rossi, a hostage kept alive solely to be a breeding vessel for the rival Falcone mafia family.
The Underboss's wife, Cecile, stripped me bare, slapped me fiercely, and forced me into black lace to warm her husband's bed.
"You are nothing but a temporary container to breed the heir I cannot give my husband."
She planned to steal my future child and dispose of me the moment I served my purpose.
In this ruthless estate, her maids and Damien's mistresses mocked me constantly, waiting for the dirty Rossi leftover to be discarded like trash.
I remembered my family begging for mercy right before they were slaughtered by Falcone soldiers.
Submission in their world only meant a faster execution.
Why should I just accept my fate as a disposable incubator while the monsters who ruined my bloodline paraded as untouched royalty?
Instead of cowering, I mercilessly rubbed my bruised cheek until it turned a vicious purple, biting my lip until it bled.
I walked into Damien's study, looking the ruthless Underboss dead in the eye.
"Cecile can give him a name, but I will give him a spine."
When Damien saw my ruined face and heard my defiance, the cold monster finally snapped.
He didn't just protect his property; he publicly stripped his wife of her power, banished his mistresses, and locked the family's reigning sapphires around my neck.
Cecile thought she was sending me to the slaughterhouse, but she had just handed me the throne.