Until Death Gives In: He Was My Doom, and Still My Home

The daughter of the Winslow family and the mafia leader of the Yates Group were born as enemies, their families locked in a feud that spanned generations. And yet, somewhere in the clash of blades and pride, love took root. On the day they first met, Lucien Yates should have killed Mira Winslow. Instead, he shifted the aim of his gun and spared her—saving the proud, untouchable daughter of the Winslow family before him. She could have run after being saved. Instead, she chose to fall—straight into the depths of his gaze. For three years, they lived together in secret. Mira was the only light in his endless night. And for her, Lucien allowed himself a dangerous fantasy—a grand wedding in Silvera, where their love could finally break free from the chains of their families' hatred. At the height of their love, she was willing to abandon her family name for him. And he was willing to stand against the entire underworld for her. On his thirty-second birthday, Lucien saw it with his own eyes—Mira handing over a hundred-page document to the head of the Winslow family. Soon after, the Yates Group suffered a devastating blow. The pain tore through him, drowning everything else. He couldn't believe that the woman who had shared his nights… had betrayed him. Mira knew nothing. The moment she stepped outside, she was taken. Iron chains clamped around her ankles. Seawater flooded her throat. The executioner let out a cold laugh. "This is Lucien's order." Until her final breath, she believed it was the man she loved who had sentenced her to death. ...... Mira gently slipped out of Lucien's arms. She glanced back at him on the bed—his eyes half-lidded, dark hair spread across the pillow. The usual sharpness in his expression had softened, leaving behind something almost boyish. It was his thirty-second birthday. And the third year of their secret life together. Her fingers brushed absentmindedly over her ring finger. It was bare—but in her heart, she had already worn his ring. "Heading to work?" Lucien asked, his voice rough as he opened his eyes. Mira nodded. "When I get back, I'll make your birthday cake myself." Lucien sat up and pulled her into his arms, resting his chin against the top of her head. His warm breath brushed her ear. "Alright. When you come back, we'll go to Silvera." He kissed her forehead—so gentle it was hard to believe he was the same man feared across the Eastern Seaboard. But the moment Mira disappeared into the elevator, the softness on Lucien's face vanished. He made a call. "Stay on her." Conrad Graves had been arrested the night before. Their arms depot had been raided—too precise, as if someone had tipped them off. There was a traitor. His thoughts dragged him back three years—to the night Mira had been cornered by a rival gang during an operation. He shouldn't have saved her. She was a daughter of the Winslow family. He was the leader of the Yates mafia. Their families had been at war for generations. They were never meant to coexist. But when he saw a blade pressed to her throat—and her refusal to beg—he fired without thinking. When she woke in the hospital, the first thing she asked was, "Why did you save me?" "Because of your eyes," Lucien said. "They reminded me of a Persian cat I had when I was younger. Stubborn. Beautiful." She laughed—and then the tears fell. From that moment on, she became the only light in his dark world. Mira walked into a café. Her brother, Marcus Winslow, was already seated by the window, waiting for her. She handed him a document, her expression grave as she said something under her breath. Marcus remained silent for a long moment before finally signing it. Lucien's men watched from a distance. They saw Mira speaking with the head of the Winslow family for nearly an hour—and at the end, handing over a sealed document with deliberate care. They were too far away to hear anything. All they could see was Mira's solemn expression—and Marcus finally nodding. They reported back immediately. "Ms. Winslow handed her brother a classified document—over a hundred pages." Lucien stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, his grip tightening until his knuckles blanched. He thought of the night before, when she had leaned into his arms and said she wanted to marry him. He thought of the countless times she had looked at him with that quiet, tender gaze. He thought of the way they had first met three years ago. None of it had been real. She had used her body to disarm him, her softness to draw out his secrets—and then destroyed everything he had with her own hands. Selena Hawthorne appeared at just the right moment, her voice trembling. "Lucien, Conrad has been executed. Someone submitted falsified evidence and made the charges stick. This is a devastating blow to the Yates Group." Lucien's gaze darkened, like the sea before a storm. "Bring Mira back. I'll question her myself." Selena accepted the order and stepped back, a faint, cold smile tugging at her lips. She had loved Lucien for ten years—since the days when he had been nothing more than an overlooked illegitimate son of the Yates family. But ever since Mira appeared, there had been no room for anyone else in his eyes. Now, her chance had finally come. As long as Mira disappeared, Lucien would understand—she was the only one who had ever truly cared for him. The order had been to detain and interrogate. Selena rewrote it into something else entirely—dispose of her. Mira stepped out of the café, still thinking about the way Lucien had looked at her that morning. Without realizing it, she smiled. The next second, shadows lunged from the alley. A sack was thrown over her head, and she was shoved straight into a car. The black sedan sped toward the harbor. When the sack was ripped off, Mira saw Selena standing on the dock. Selena walked toward her, her heels clicking sharply against the metal. "Surprised?" Mira struggled to breathe, her voice shaking. "If Lucien finds out you kidnapped me, he won't let you get away with it!" Selena burst into laughter. "He gave the order himself. Once he got bored, he tossed you aside. Isn't that how it always ends for women like you? And don't forget—the Winslow and Yates Group have been enemies for a century. Do you think he really loves you? You are just a tool to bring down the Winslow family." Mira's pupils shrank. She couldn't believe it. Selena crouched down, gripping Mira's chin with cruel fingers. "A lapdog of the Winslow family like you only lives to bite." Cold spread through Mira's body as tears spilled uncontrollably. "That's not possible… He wouldn't…" Selena let out a mocking laugh and gestured to the men behind her. "Tie her to an anchor and throw her in. This is Lucien's order." Every instinct in her screamed that Selena was lying. Lucien had promised to love her for a lifetime. But her reason whispered something else—how could the heirs of sworn enemies ever truly be together without resentment? In the end, Lucien had never really loved her. To him, she had only ever been someone to share his bed. Cold iron chains wrapped around Mira's ankles as she was dragged to the edge of the deck. The sharp, salty scent of the sea hit her all at once. She turned back. Through blurred, tear-filled eyes, all she could see was Selena's twisted smile. The next second, Mira was thrown into the dark sea. Selena dialed Lucien's number, her voice filled with feigned anguish. "Lucien, Mira panicked. She jumped into the sea to escape." On the other end, Lucien froze for a split second. Then, as if something inside him snapped, he hurled his phone against the wall. The screen shattered instantly. His fists clenched tight. The pain of betrayal, the humiliation of being deceived, and the memories of every moment he had shared with Mira—they tore at him from both sides, as if he were being split in two. Outside the office, the guards heard a roar tear through the room—raw and feral, like a wounded beast. "Mira!"