Raven's POV:
I didn't pack.
Didn't leave a note.
Didn't think twice.
The night air bit into my skin as I cracked the window open, its cold air brushing my cheek like a warning. But I didn't stop.
Screw warnings.
Screw Kairus.
Screw his goddamn rules.
I swung one leg over the ledge, then the other, gripping the stone windowsill as I leaned out into the dark. Ivy curled along the walls like veins, and I climbed down like I'd done it a thousand times before—because I didn't belong in that palace of ice. I belonged in chaos.
My boots scraped against stone. My hands burned with the strain. But when I hit the ground, I didn't flinch.
No guards saw me.
No alarms went off.
He didn't come running.
Of course he didn't.
I dusted off my dress and slipped into the alley like a shadow. My blood buzzed with adrenaline. With rage. With the ache of something I couldn't name.
I didn't want freedom tonight.
I wanted revenge.
And as my heels clicked down the alley beside the mansion, one bitter sentence repeated in my head like poison:
It meant nothing.
His words replayed in my skull like a record I couldn't break.
"This means nothing. "
Then what the hell was that kiss?
The way his hands trembled against my skin.
The way he lifted me, held me like I was his salvation.
Liar.
I should have known better.
It's a contract, Raven.
He owns your time. Your body.
Not your heart.
Never your heart.
So if that's all I am to him—just a signature and a body to own—
Then I'll burn his goddamn money to the ground.
I wore the black dress I once kept buried deep in my closet, the one I swore I'd never wear again. Short. Tight. I grabbed the platinum card he tossed carelessly on the counter days ago.
His card. His rules, right?
Well, not tonight.
I went where no "wife" of a mafia king would dare be seen.
The Devil's Den—neon lights, cigarette smoke, moaning basslines. A Stripper Club infamous for sex and scandal.
And me?
I stepped right inside like I belonged. Like I was the fire they couldn't touch.
I got drunk.
I drank my ass off, lips stained in blood-red warpaint, throat burning with shots I didn't bother counting.
And then I climbed on top of the goddamn VIP table like it was my stage.
Black stilettos. Bare legs. A reckless dress that clung to my every curve perfectly.
And eyes that dared any man to look—and regret it.
I danced like a goddamn stripper, hips rolling to the pulse of bass and vengeance, every sway a middle finger to the man who left me breathless and alone in that training hall.
His money paid for the champagne.
His name was on the platinum card I handed over with a smirk.
And the tips I flung like glitter?
All drenched in rage.
This wasn't just rebellion.
This was war.
Let him find me.
Let him choke on the mess he made—
Let him see what "nothing" tastes like.
Meanwhile....
Kairus' POV :
"Boss," Yuri stammered, running up to me. "We tracked the card. It's—"
I grabbed the tablet.
One line.
KairusBlack Platinum • $6,300 spent • The Devil's Den Strip Club
My blood froze.
No.
No fucking way.
Tires screeched as I threw myself behind the wheel, shoving the gas like a man possessed. The city blurred. My heart pounded.
Raven… What the fuck are you doing?
Ten minutes later, the bouncers didn't even get a word out before I crashed through the entrance.
And there she was.
Dancing.
On top of a table.
Surrounded by men.
Like sin wrapped in vengeance.
She met my eyes—and smirked.
She looked at me dead in the eye.
And smirked.
And then?
That little devil twerked.
Bent over on that goddamn VIP table swaying her hips—like her body wasn't mine. Like she wasn't my wife.
The crowd around her hollered.
I stopped breathing.
Something dark snapped inside me—louder than gunfire, more brutal than blood.
I strode through the crowd like a storm in a silk suit. Chairs scraped, men stumbled away, one even whistled—
Until he met my eyes.
They scattered like rats.
She was still moving to the music, hips rolling, dress riding up higher with every move, champagne glistening down her thighs.
She was trying to destroy me.
And damn her, it was working.
I reached the table.
She didn't stop.
Didn't even flinch.
My jaw clenched. I grabbed her by the waist, tossed her over my shoulder like a goddamn sack of fire and fury, and stormed out of the club to the sound of her laughter.
"Put me down, you arrogant bastard—"
"Not a fucking word," I growled, tightening my hold.
She beat her fists against my back, and I almost groaned—almost—because even now, every touch of her burned hotter than hell.
I threw open the car door, tossed her in, and slammed it shut behind me.
"Six thousand fucking dollars, Raven?" I roared, yanking the wheel hard as the car peeled into the night. "A stripper club?! Are you fucking insane?!"
She smiled like a goddess carved from spite.
"You said it meant nothing. So I figured I'd use your money for what it's worth."
I swore under my breath—"Blyad'! Ty menya ubivayesh', babochka! "
("Fuck! You're killing me, babochka!)
She just crossed her legs, dress still hiked high, eyes glittering like war.
I looked at her. Really looked.
She was driving me mad.
And I wanted to lose myself in it.
But not yet.
Not like this.
I slammed the brakes.
Her head jerked. The tension snapped.
In the darkness of the car, I gripped the steering wheel like it could keep me from devouring her.
But nothing could.
Not anymore.
The car was suffocating.
She was drunk on rebellion.
Or maybe I was the one intoxicated—by her defiance, her goddamn smirk, the way she tested my control like it was her favorite game.
Her scent clung to the leather. That fucking glitter still clung to her thighs. Her lips were red like velvet, and her dress—if you could even call it that—rode up like it was begging to be torn off.
And then she moved.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Lethal.
Her fingers slid up her thigh as she turned to face me in the passenger seat, eyes half-lidded, lips parted, tipsy from champagne and revenge.
"So angry over nothing…" she purred, voice smoky, drunk on vodka. "Didn't you say it means nothing?"
And then—
She rolled her hips against the seat.
A slow, devastating grind.
Like she was fucking the air.
I swore again—"Yebat'…"
My knuckles went white on the wheel.
"Raven," I warned, voice rough. Strangled. Barely human.
But she giggled.
Fucking giggled.
"This isn't about love," she whispered, fingers tracing her inner thigh like a dare. "It's just debt, right? Just a contract. Just—"
"Enough."
I slammed my foot on the gas.
The engine roared like my fury.
I took turns too fast. Didn't care. Mansion lights blurred in the distance like salvation I didn't deserve.
She laughed again—tipsy, wild—and leaned in close to my ear.
"You're obsessed," she whispered, licking the shell of my ear. "And still, it means nothing…"
That was it.
No more warnings.
No more self-control.
The moment the car skidded to a halt in front of my gates, I was out.
I yanked her door open, ripped her out of the seat, and threw her over my shoulder again. She squealed, kicked—but I didn't care.
Not anymore.
"You want games?" I growled, storming through the marble hallway, past stunned guards. "You want to break the rules, baby? "
She giggled, breath hot against my neck. "This means nothing, right?"
I slammed the bedroom door open with my shoulder, strode to the bed, and threw her onto the mattress.
She bounced, laughing—drunk, chaotic, beautiful.
I unbuckled my belt with one hand, the leather snapping.
Her eyes widened. Her smile turned wicked.
"You brought this on yourself," I growled, crawling onto the bed like a man starved.
"Ty moia problema, babochka. " (You are my problem,babochka.)
I grabbed her wrists, dragged them above her head, tying them to the headboard,my breath ragged.
She didn't flinch.
Didn't beg.
No—
She smirked.
God, that smirk could end me.
Then—
She spread her legs.
Slow. Deliberate.
A silent challenge.
A goddamn war cry.
—and purred with a tilt of her head:
"This means nothing right, darling? "
My vision blurred.My jaw flexed.
Rage and lust collided in my chest like a violent storm.
"Ty igraesh' s ognëm, babochka... "
(You're playing with fire, babochka... )
I climbed over her, caging her in with every inch of power I held, my voice a growl against her lips.
"Don't you dare regret this, baby! "