Page 105 of Dangerous Beginnings

Aslanov

Days blur together in a haze of chaos and control.

My empire is a firestorm, each flame demanding my attention, each one capable of burning everything I’ve built to ash if I falter for even a moment. My men grow restless, tension brewing in their ranks. Whispers of betrayal, weakness, and vulnerability trail in the shadows like venom. I feel it everywhere.

And yet, here I am—standing on the edge of a battlefield while my mind drifts back to her. To Isabella.

She’s changed something in me, pulled apart the pieces I’ve kept bolted down for years. It’s infuriating. I’ve spent my life building walls so high that no one could reach me, and now? One look from her, one soft word, and I feel the foundation cracking.

If I were smarter—stronger—I would have walked away. I would have never let her get this close, never let her see the man behind the mask. But I didn’t. And now it’s too late. She’s tangled in this mess, wrapped in the threads of my world, and there’s no way to untangle her without cutting us both apart.

She’s my weak link.

I swore I’d never have one.

It was a promise I made to myself years ago, back when I first understood what this world could take from me. Attachments make you vulnerable and give your enemies a target to aim for. I’ve seen it happen too many times. Men were reduced to nothing because someone they loved was ripped away, used as leverage, or turned against them.

But Isabella knows me now—knows parts of me no one else ever has. She sees the man I am, not just the monster my enemies fear or the leader my men follow. She knows more about me than anyone who isn’t in the grave. And that terrifies me because it means she could be taken from me, used against me, or worse—destroyed because of me.

And the worst part? I don’t think I’d survive it.

I can’t push her away. I’ve tried in my ways—being cruel, holding back pieces of myself—but it’s never enough. Every time I see her, every time she looks at me with those wide eyes filled with trust and something else I’m afraid to name, I’m pulled deeper into her orbit.

She’s become my gravity, and there’s no escaping it now.

My men would call me weak if they knew and would question my judgment if they saw how much she means to me. They wouldn’t understand. They’d think she’s just another woman, a distraction, something I’ll tire of. But she isn’t. She’s my weakness, yes, but she’s also the only thing keeping me grounded in a world that’s spiraling out of control.

I know she senses it—the tension in me, the secrets I’m keeping. She’s too perceptive not to. But what can I tell her when I barely know enough myself?

If I were a better man, I’d tell her to leave. I’d make her go somewhere far away, where my world couldn’t touch her. But I’m not a better man. I’m a selfish one, and it is too late now.

With every passing day, I fall deeper into this, and so does she.

I’ve made my choice, and now I must live with it. The only thing left to do is ensure that no one touches her, no matter what it costs me. Because if anyone so much as lays a finger on her, I will burn everything to the ground to keep her safe.

For now, all I can do is play my part, keep my empire from crumbling, and shield her from the storm I know is coming.

I step outside, the cool night air biting at my skin, and light a cigarette. The smoke swirls around me, a fleeting comfort in the chaos of my thoughts. I take a long drag, letting the burn settle in my chest, and close my eyes.

For a moment, I allow myself to think about a different life—a life where I’m not…me.

But fantasies like that don’t last.

With a sharp exhale, I crush the cigarette under my boot andturn back toward the house. The lights are still on in the cabin, a soft glow spilling through the windows. She’s waiting for me, just as she always does.

And as much as I hate myself for it, I can’t stay away.

Chapter 56

Fate and Sorrow

Aslanov

I walk over to the car, the hum of the engine a constant, low buzz in my ears. The night had passed in a blur, and now, with the first light of dawn just a faint promise on the horizon, I’m heading out again. The cold outside is a stark contrast to her body warmth combined with the bed sheets.

The black, tinted windows hide whatever might be inside, but that doesn’t stop my mind from racing. The door creaks as I swing it open, slipping into the driver’s seat. My fingers instinctively run over the rough stubble on my jaw, a reminder that I haven’t had time to shave. I should’ve taken a moment for myself, for some sort of reprieve, but there’s no time. No time for anything. Not now. Not when things are spiraling.

I grip the wheel tightly, my fingers digging into the smooth leather. As the tires start to roll, I find myself speeding through the city streets, heading to the only place I know will have answers. My thoughts race as quickly as the car, a whirlwind of anger and something darker. One of my men is gone—taken, or worse. The realization eats away at me with every second that passes.

---