She Confronted Him in Bunny Slippers... Now The Mafia Boss Is Obsessed

Midnight.

The gala was long over. The crowds had gone home, the museum doors were locked, and the vast limestone halls had returned to a deep, peaceful silence.

Up in the penthouse suite overlooking the glittering lights of Manhattan, the city hummed far below like a distant ocean.

I sat curled up on the oversized leather sofa in my favorite silk robe, sipping a cup of chamomile tea, watching the rain streak softly down the panoramic glass windows.

The heavy front door clicked open.

Heavy, familiar footsteps crossed the slate floor.

Nikolai walked into the living room, stripping off his black silk tie, his white shirt collar open, looking every bit the exhausted, powerful king returning to his true domain. He tossed the tie onto the side table, walked over to the sofa, and sat down beside me, pulling my legs across his lap so my head rested comfortably against his broad shoulder.

“You were magnificent tonight,” he murmured, his long, calloused fingers gently stroking my hair.

“I was terrified,” I confessed, closing my eyes and breathing in the familiar scent of cedar, rain, and safety.

“You don't know how to be afraid, Elena,” he chuckled softly, pressing a tender kiss to the top of my head. “You walked into my life wearing fuzzy pink bunnies and threatened me with a broom handle. Nothing in this world could ever terrify you.”

I smiled, turning my face into his chest, wrapping my arms securely around his waist.

“Do you remember what you said to me that first night?” I whispered. “When I threw your money across the marble floor?”

“I remember every word,” Nikolai replied, his voice dropping into that deep, resonant baritone that felt like home. “I told you that you don't bow to anyone.”

“And you were right,” I murmured, smiling against his heart. “I don't. But I’ll gladly stay right here in your arms for the rest of my life.”

May you like

My daughter dumped her wedding cake over my head and called me a burden—...

$I stepped down from a classified military transport and headed directly to the ICU, where my wife was lying with twenty-seven broken bones and a fractured skull. Outside her hospital room, her mother and six sisters stood smiling as though they were waiting for lunch to arrive. The detective assigned to her case leaned in and whispered, "Captain, this family practically controls the entire county." I stared through the glass at my wife's bruised and swollen face before answering, "Good. Because my authority extends far beyond this county."$