The Reckoning

Bonus Scenes – Two Untold Moments of Love & Obsession.

Before She Was Mine
Alexey

 The city sprawls beneath me, a glittering expanse of gold and steel, but it holds no interest. Not tonight. Not when my mind is circling a single thought.
Her.
I should be strategizing. Running through the logistics, the guest list, the security protocols. The wedding is hours away, and cementing the alliance should be the only thing I care about.
But oddly enough, I don’t give a fuck about what the arrangement with the Bianchi’s will secure. I only care about the woman who will bear my name.
I exhale slowly and drag my thumb across my jaw, watching the security footage loop on the screen before me. The benefit. The moment it all began.
I should close the laptop. But I don’t. The footage plays in silence, but I can still hear it—her laugh. Light. Effortless. Like she had no idea she was standing at the edge of a precipice.
I watch as she tilts her head, her dark curls tumbling over one shoulder. That mouth. Red lips painted in something soft, something edible. I remember how they parted, how her breath caught when she recognized me.
My pulse kicks up.
Mine.
I rewind it. Again.
A glass of whiskey sits untouched beside me. I don’t need it. The fire is already in my blood, spreading slow and insidious.
I study the way she moves, how she gestures as she speaks. Her long fingers. The subtle dip of her waist. She belongs with me.
And by tomorrow night, she will be.
I drag a hand through my hair and sit back in my chair. Will she learn to trust me some day? Become more than the man she was forced to marry?
A dark energy hums beneath my ribs at the thought. For a fraction of a second, something unfamiliar creeps in. A thought I don’t want.
Can I make her happy?
I exhale sharply and shake it off. Irrelevant.
I will make her happy. I will give her anything she asks for. The world if she wants it. I will build a kingdom for her, set fire to it if she commands, and pull the stars from the sky if she reaches for them.
And she will love me for it.
I snap the laptop shut. Enough.
Standing, I grab my coat, my movements controlled, measured. The only thing left to do is wait for morning. For the moment I slide the gold band onto her delicate hand and solidify what I already know.
Gianna Bianchi doesn’t know it yet, but she belongs to me.
And by this time tomorrow, there won’t be a damn thing she can do about it.

A Night in Florence
Gianna

The air smells of citrus and warm stone. A breeze stirs the sheer curtains by the open balcony doors, carrying in the distant hum of the Arno. I should be asleep, tangled in soft linen and the heat of my husband’s body, but my mind refuses to still.
Slipping from bed, I pull one of Alexey’s shirts from the chaise at the foot of the mattress, sliding it over my bare skin.
The silk is cool at first but quickly warms, swallowing me in his scent—smoke, cedar, and something darker, something uniquely him.
I pad silently down the hall, past gilded sconces casting golden light over centuries-old frescoes. Angels hover overhead, their faces frozen in bliss, their robes billowing in a painted storm of pinks and golds. I wonder what it must feel like—to exist forever in a single moment of rapture.
Stopping before the long windows, I run my fingers over the silk drapes, tracing the embroidered vines as my thoughts drift.
I have walked away from everything I’ve ever known.
And yet, I don’t feel lost.
I feel… suspended.
Caught between the life I had and the one waiting to be built.
Between the man I barely know and the one I can no longer imagine myself without.
Behind me, I feel him before I hear him. The quiet shift of air, the change in energy that always signals his presence. He moves like a shadow—controlled, effortless. A predator at ease.
I don’t turn. I don’t have to. Instead, I lift my hand, palm up, waiting.
He takes it immediately.
His fingers slide against mine, warm and sure, before he presses his chest to my back, enveloping me. “You should be asleep, malyshka.”
“I can’t.”
He rests his chin atop my head, his other hand settling low on my stomach. His thumb traces slow circles just above my navel, absent but possessive. “Tell me why.”
A hundred answers sit on my tongue, but none feel right.
Instead, I say, “Did you know these frescoes were commissioned by a noble family to impress their rivals?”
He hums, a sound of quiet indulgence. “It worked. I’m very impressed.”
I turn slightly, tipping my face up to him. “Not with me, you’re not.”
His lips quirk like he’s amused but won’t admit it. “I’m always impressed with you.”
Playful words, but his voice is soft.
The voice—the one he seems to use when it’s just us.
I turn fully, placing my hands against his bare chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my palms. Solid. Steady. A force to anchor myself to.
“I was thinking about the whirlwind of changes.”
Something shifts in his eyes. He lifts his hand, pushing a loose curl behind my ear. “Are they happy changes?”
I exhale slowly. “I’m not sure since I’m afraid of waking up and realizing none of this is real. That I’ll be back in my father’s house, back to being a bargaining chip, and you’ll be just a stranger in a darkened ballroom.”
Alexey’s hands slide up my arms, wrapping fully around me, his breath warm at my temple. “It’s real, Gianna. Our marriage is unbreakable.”
I close my eyes against the sharp sting of emotion.
Then, before I can think better of it, I ask the question I haven’t dared to voice.
“Are you concerned?”
His hold tightens slightly. “Of what?”
I swallow. “About letting me in…and how that could make you vulnerable?
A long moment passes, then he exhales, slow and measured. “Yes.”
I pull back just enough to see his face. “Thank you for being honest.”
His jaw flexes, as if fighting the words before he lets them escape. “But not anymore. Because I would burn the world to keep you.”
I don’t know who moves first, but suddenly his mouth is on mine.
Not urgent.
Not rough. Just claiming.
I drink in the taste of him—whiskey and heat and something utterly intoxicating. His hands spread against my back, then lower, gripping my thighs and lifting me effortlessly.
I gasp into his mouth as my back presses against cool glass, the night air teasing the exposed skin beneath his shirt. His lips trail down my jaw, to the sensitive spot beneath my ear, his voice rasping against my pulse.
“Some women are dangerous.”
“Am I one of them?” I dig my nails into his shoulders and his breath catches.
“Yes.” He tips my chin. “You are a thief of hearts and will ruin anyone who tries to take your light away. A true warrior.”
No one has ever said anything like that. Is it possible that my husband is the first person to see me?
The realization steals the breath from my lungs because I never imagined it was possible.
His forehead presses to mine. “Inside.”
I nod, and he carries me effortlessly through the suite, the air thick with something deeper than lust, heavier than need.
We tumble onto the bed and I wonder if my life is truly about to begin.

Think it’s over? Not even close.
Scorching heat. Soulmate love. The second book in the series is a captivating page turner.

A brutal Bratva enforcer with unwavering loyalty. An oligarch’s daughter with a treasure the world will kill to possess. A marriage of convenience that burns hotter—and deadlier—than either expected.

Yuri Novikov has built his life on honor and sacrifice. As a ruthless enforcer for the Bratva, his duty comes first, no matter the cost. So when he decides to protect Lina Orlov—by marrying her—he doesn’t hesitate. Even if it means risking everything.
Lina has spent her life living in shadows, never knowing when or where danger would strike. But when the truth behind her family’s fortune finally comes to light, she’s thrust into a deadly game of power and survival. And Yuri may be her only chance to live.
Caught between the promises they’ve made and the passion they can’t ignore, Yuri and Lina must decide how much they will risk before their bond becomes the weapon that destroys them both.

Read Unbroken