Natalya pov :-

Natalya sat in front of her mirror, running her fingers over the swollen bruises lining her cheek and jaw. The pain had dulled, but the humiliation burned hotter than ever. Damien had humiliated her, discarded her, and replaced her with that pathetic, wide-eyed boy. And what infuriated her the most was that Luca wasn’t even trying. He had effortlessly slithered into her home, into Damien’s life, into Ava’s heart. Now, she watched as the ruthless king of the underworld softened for him. Damien, cooking in the kitchen? Laughing? Holding his daughter and that filthy little interloper in his arms like a perfect family? It was unbearable.

She had tolerated many things as Damien’s wife—his affairs, his cruelty, his indifference. But she would not tolerate being replaced. She would not let that wretched boy take what was rightfully hers. If Damien wanted to throw her aside, she would make sure he regretted it.

Natalya picked up her phone, dialing a number she had never thought she would use. A deep, husky voice answered, tinged with amusement.

“Natalya Volkov,” Mikhail drawled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I hear you and Damien had a little… disagreement over a certain boy.”

There was a pause, then a chuckle. “Ah. So you’ve been watching. I assume you didn’t call to offer condolences for my broken jaw.”

“I want to make a deal,” she said, voice sharp. “You want Luca out of Damien’s life. So do I.”

Mikhail hummed. “Intriguing. But tell me, what exactly are you offering in exchange?”

Natalya clenched her jaw. She had expected this. Mikhail was not a man of charity; he was a man of greed, of power. If she wanted Luca gone, she would have to pay a price.

“Anything,” she said, swallowing her pride. “I will do anything you ask.”

There was a heavy silence, then the sound of ice clinking in a glass. “Anything, you say?”

“Yes.”

Mikhail chuckled, dark and amused. “Well, well. The scorned wife of Damien Volkov, willing to crawl into the lion’s den to get rid of her replacement. How poetic.”

Natalya tightened her grip on the phone. “Do we have a deal or not?”

“I’ll consider it,” Mikhail said lazily. “But let’s be clear, Natalya—when I come to collect, I expect full payment. No regrets.”

“I don’t care about regrets,” she spat. “I just want Luca gone.”

“Then we are in agreement,” Mikhail said smoothly. “I’ll be in touch soon.”

The line went dead.

Natalya exhaled slowly, setting the phone down. She had just made a deal with the devil. But if it meant reclaiming her place at Damien’s side, if it meant wiping that fragile, doe-eyed boy out of their lives forever, then so be it.

She smirked at her reflection, tracing the fading bruise on her cheek. Soon, Damien would remember where his true loyalty lay. And Luca? He wouldn’t live long enough to see the consequences of his mistake.

***** Mikhail's pov

Mikhail leaned back in his leather chair, swirling a glass of dark liquor in his hand as he replayed Natalya’s words in his mind. The dim light of his private study cast sharp shadows over his features, his smirk one of amusement and intrigue.

He had always known that Damien's wife was an unstable woman, driven more by jealousy than intelligence. But her desperation intrigued him. She had come to him, practically begging for his help, seething with rage over Damien's obsession with Luca. It had been amusing at first, a scorned woman seeking vengeance against the man who had cast her aside. But as she spoke, Mikhail saw something more valuable than just a jealous wife—an opportunity.

“Eliminate Luca from Damien’s life,” she had said, her voice filled with venom. She wanted him gone, but she lacked the means to do it herself. That was where he came in.

Mikhail set his drink down and exhaled, his fingers tapping against the heavy oak desk. He had no particular interest in doing Natalya’s bidding, but the situation itself intrigued him. Damien, the untouchable, the ruthless, had finally found something—or rather, someone—worth protecting. A weakness. And weaknesses were meant to be exploited.

Did he truly care about Luca? Not particularly. He's Pretty and all But the idea of taking something Damien held dear, just to watch him unravel, was delicious.

His eyes flickered to the phone beside him. He had sent Natalya away earlier, uninterested in making any rushed decisions. But now, after thinking it through, he realized there was more fun to be had in playing this game rather than dismissing it outright.

Reaching for the phone, he dialed her number. The line rang twice before she answered, her voice eager, anxious.

“You’ve thought it over?” she asked.

A slow smile spread across Mikhail’s lips. “I have. And I believe we can come to an agreement, my dear Natalya.”

There was a pause on the other end, and then a sharp intake of breath. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and knowing. “Oh, I’m counting on that.”

Leaning back, he stared out the window, his mind already spinning with plans. This wasn’t just about Luca. It was about pulling the strings, unraveling Damien’s careful control piece by piece. And if he played this right, it wouldn’t just be Luca who suffered—it would be Damien himself.

“Come see me ,” he murmured into the receiver. “We have much to discuss.”

And as he ended the call, Mikhail couldn’t help but relish the storm he was about to unleash.

*****

Natalya arrived at the secluded lounge where Mikhail had instructed her to meet him. The dimly lit space reeked of expensive cigars and power plays, its lavish décor a stark contrast to the filth of the men who frequented it. She clutched her coat tighter around her shoulders as a bodyguard led her to a private booth in the back.

Mikhail was already waiting, lounging in his seat like a king surveying his domain. He swirled a glass of whiskey in one hand, his cold, calculating eyes scanning her from head to toe. The smirk that curled his lips sent a shiver down Natalya’s spine.

"You actually came," he mused, his voice smooth but laced with amusement. "I thought you'd be too proud to crawl to me."

Natalya clenched her fists, but she forced a smirk of her own. "I don’t crawl. I negotiate."

Mikhail chuckled, setting his glass down. "Is that what this is? A negotiation? You want Luca gone, and you expect me to do the dirty work for you?"

She slid into the seat across from him, her nails tapping against the table. "I know you want him too. You and Damien have been circling each other like predators over fresh meat. Luca is your way in—to strike where it hurts the most. I'm offering you an opportunity."

Mikhail leaned forward, his smirk widening. "And in return? What exactly are you offering me?"

She took a slow breath, already regretting what she was about to say. "Anything. Name your price."

His eyes darkened, the playful glint replaced by something far more sinister. He studied her for a long moment before he chuckled lowly. "Anything? That’s a dangerous word, Natalya."

"I can handle dangerous."

Mikhail exhaled, amused. "Fine. Here’s what I want. When Luca is out of the picture, you will owe me a favor of my choosing, no questions asked. And, until that day comes, you will be mine to use as I see fit."

Her stomach twisted, but she refused to let the disgust show on her face. She had known the risk of coming to him, but hearing it spoken so plainly made her feel trapped. "I won’t be your plaything," she hissed.

Mikhail chuckled. "Who said anything about playing? I need leverage in Damien’s world. A key to unlock doors even I can’t get through. You will be my informant, my spy, my insurance. And if you try to double-cross me... well, I hear Damien isn’t the forgiving type."

Natalya swallowed hard, her mind racing. She had spent years being Damien’s neglected wife, discarded the moment Luca entered the picture. If she backed out now, she’d be left with nothing. But if she agreed... she could reclaim her place, even if it meant selling her soul to another devil.

She lifted her chin. "Fine. We have a deal."

Mikhail grinned, reaching out to clink his glass against hers. "Then let’s get to work."