Prologue

PROLOGUE

LUCA ORLOV

LATE JUNE - SURREY, ENGLAND - DISTRACTED

S hit. What did she say?

I cleared my throat and nodded, hoping that was the correct response.

Marcie, the event planner, rambled on about her plans, but I barely registered her words. My attention was fixed on the phone in my pocket, waiting for it to ring. I nodded and kept up appearances, but my mind was elsewhere—back home, where my Bratva family and our Polish allies were under attack. The smile on my face felt like a mask, suffocating me.

Hours had passed since I’d heard from my best friend and pakhan, Mikhail Rominov. The tension built with each second, like a vice tightening around my chest. Every moment of silence from Miki gnawed at me, unravelling the thin facade of calm I desperately tried to maintain. My foot tapped lightly against the floor, a subtle rhythm of unease I hoped no one would notice.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I tried to loosen the knot of tension there, but it was no use. The waiting was killing me. I should have been there, with them. Not holed up here keeping up appearances and pretending like my world wasn’t teetering on the edge of a knife.

Why hadn’t Miki called yet? What the hell was happening?

God, I hated feeling this powerless.

I had faith in Miki’s plan to counter the attacks, sure. But that didn’t mean shit when bullets were flying and men were desperate. Anything could happen. Everything could go wrong in the blink of an eye.

Claire and Marcie chatted away, blissfully unaware of my worries. To them, their presence at Platinum—Miki’s luxury hotel and spa—was all about Marcie organising the New Year’s Eve event. While that was part of the truth, the real reason for their stay was to keep them safely away from the bloodshed and danger back home.

As the head of entertainment for the Rominov family’s legitimate businesses, Miki had tasked me with their safety, a responsibility I took seriously. Yet guilt gnawed at me. While my friends and brothers fought, I was stuck here, babysitting.

My leg bounced, and I exhaled softly, struggling to control my rising agitation. After a decade as a Bratva enforcer, being sidelined like this was unbearable.

“Will that colour scheme work for you, Luca?” Marcie asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Sure, sounds great,” I replied, distractedly rubbing the back of my neck. I didn’t care about the colour. Marcie had good taste, and I trusted her judgement.

The two women leaned over Marcie’s laptop, their easy laughter a stark contrast to the weight on my shoulders. I swirled the whiskey in my hand, untouched for the past hour. Each passing second of silence frayed my nerves further. This wasn’t like me; I thrived on adrenaline and battle. Being powerless on the sidelines twisted my stomach, and I loathed it.

Unable to sit any longer, I rose from the chair, intending to clear my head with a walk. Just as I was about to speak, the phone buzzed in my hand.

Relief flooded me when I saw Miki’s name on the screen. Finally!

“I need to get this,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped out onto the balcony of my suite. The cool night air offered little relief from the tension simmering in my chest. I hit the answer button, my eyes drifting back through the glass doors to where Claire and Marcie were still sitting chatting on the sofa.

Miki’s face appeared on the screen, and I felt the weight of the worry I’d been carrying around for the last few days start to lift.

“Miki, how did it go?” I asked, frantic to learn how my friends and family were.

“It’s over. They won’t be bothering us again. Our guys are fine. We lost some of our Polish friends, though, and we almost lost Glowacki. He took a bullet,” he replied.

“Shit!”

“Yeah, but the doc operated on him and although he isn’t out of danger yet, he should be okay,” Miki said, sounding tired. I didn’t blame him. Defending our business and the Rominov home against our enemies would have taken its toll. Yet again, I wished I had been there to help.

“Well, that’s a relief. Magdalena would be devastated if she lost her father,” I replied. Hell, let’s face it, we all would be devastated if we lost Glowacki.

Five years back, when Miki took over as the Bratva’s UK pakhan after the Albanians slaughtered his parents, we forged an alliance. Janusz Glowacki, the head of the Polish Mafia, had just buried his eldest son, another casualty of the Albanian scum. What began as a pact for vengeance and mutual protection soon morphed into a bond of brotherhood. Glowacki wasn’t just an ally; he was a good friend and mentor, guiding us younger men through the treacherous underworld. The thought of losing him? It was like losing our anchor.

“How are the ladies?” Miki asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Fine,” I confirmed, leaning against the cold railing. “They’ve no idea we are here for anything other than party planning.”

“Good. The less they know, the better. You should be safe enough to return as soon as Marcie’s finished the planning. I can’t see there being any further danger, but nevertheless, be on guard, just in case,” Miki said.

“As always.” I nodded.

“Oh, and Luca,” Miki said, his voice taking on a teasing quality, “I heard you were unable to take your eyes off a certain lady lawyer. How’s that working out for you?”

I laughed and shook my head.

“I see that even in dire times of war, the Bratva gossip train still runs at full steam ahead. Who told you?” I asked with a chuckle.

“Ash took great delight in telling me, of course. He said you were like a dog with its tongue hanging out at the sight of a juicy bone the minute you saw Claire. Don’t tell me the playboy is going to be tamed by the Ice Queen?” Miki chuckled.

“Not likely,” I said, forcing a laugh at his comment, unwilling to admit just how easily that could be the case.

Miki laughed. “We’ll see.” His attention then shifted to someone offscreen. “Be right there,” he told them, before speaking to me again. “I need to go. I’ll keep you updated on Glowacki. See you when you get home tomorrow,” he said before hanging up.

A wave of relief washed over me, the tension finally easing now that I knew everyone was safe, despite Glowacki’s injury. He was a tough bastard, and I had no doubt he would pull through.

As I slipped the phone back into my pocket, my gaze flicked to Claire.

Ash was right. From the moment I saw her, I was drawn to her. I had only known Claire for a couple of days and, already, she was getting under my skin in a way no other woman ever had.

I wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that.

Lingering on the balcony, I took a moment to study her, unnoticed. There was no denying Claire was a stunning woman. Smart and tough too. A criminal defence barrister, and according to Miki, known as “the Ice Queen” among her peers. I found the combination of brains, beauty, and strength utterly thrilling.

When I picked her and Marcie up from their house, it was like a punch to the gut. A visceral reaction that I hadn’t expected, didn’t want, but couldn’t deny.

Claire’s laughter bubbled up, bright and unrestrained, making me smile. She leaned toward Marcie, eyes sparkling with genuine amusement. I loved seeing her so open and carefree, letting her guard down, which I was sure from her reputation, wasn’t something she did often.

My head tilted as I studied the woman who had stolen my breath from the minute I set eyes on her and made my heart quicken ever since. God, she was gorgeous. My pulse thrummed with a strange, urgent rhythm that I’d never felt before, and my body literally lit up inside when I looked at her.

Claire was irresistibly alluring, and I’d been chasing her with relentless flirtation since we first met. But I hadn’t made much headway. That was unusual for me. Miki loved to tease me about my player reputation—women usually fell into my lap with ease, much to my delight. Lately, though, the thrill of casual flings had lost its edge; the emptiness that followed each encounter was starting to weigh on me, leaving me craving something—or someone—more real.

Then Claire walked into my life, and everything shifted. She sparked a need within me that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Unlike the fleeting connections of my past, Claire was a puzzle I was desperate to solve. Her resistance to my usual charm only fuelled my desire to break through her defences. With her, it wasn’t about playing games; it was about proving myself worthy of the challenge she presented.

I watched her profile as she laughed again at something Marcie said. Her beautiful full lips spread in a smile that made my cock thicken. Images of her kneeling in front of me, her mouth on me, doing delicious things, flashed through my mind and I groaned. God, that would feel so good. I had to make that happen.

Claire’s gaze met mine, as if drawn by my thoughts. Despite her resistance, the pull between us was undeniable. I saw it in the tension of her body, the spark in her eyes. Yes, this was a challenge I craved, and I was ready to turn up the heat.

I slowly smiled, then licked my lips, feeling satisfied when her eyes widened before she quickly looked away. As I stepped back into my suite, I couldn’t help my surge of excitement. The sexy lawyer might be dead set on resisting me, but I was hell-bent on melting her ice and igniting the fiery passion I sensed lurking beneath.