When ruthless 30-year-old mafia boss Dmitri Volkov is given an ultimatum—produce an heir before his thirty-first birthday or lose his position at the head of the Bratva—marrying Penelope was supposed to be a business transaction.
Cold. Strategic. Disposable. He never expected her quiet defiance to crawl under his skin. He never expected to want her. And he definitely never expected her to vanish before he could understand why she'd left. Until one night, by mistake, she dialed him instead of her father. Her voice was trembling, exhausted. "Dad, my babies were born, but I don't have money to buy them formula." For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then his voice—low, sharp, almost shaking. "You were pregnant? Stay right there." Minutes later, the ground trembled with the roar of helicopter blades. He was coming. She thought he hated her. He thought he didn't need her. But obsession has always been stronger than hate—and Dmitri Volkov never lets go of what's his.
