on the Irish. It was savage and merciless, like Damien’s character. We only lost two men, but the Irish lost more.
The Italians are currently by our side, but the Yakuza and the Triads are still reluctant about a war they don’t belong to.
Vlad asked me to talk to Kai since he seems to be open to negotiation. However, Kyle wasn’t very fond of the idea. He didn’t like the thought of me having a one-on-one with Kai.
For now, I will just agree with him because he is recovering, but in the long run, I know we can’t survive on our own. If the Irish bring in their allies, the Luciano family alone won’t be enough.
Other than the attack, we’ve been somehow blissfully living our lives. Kyle and I wake up early and take walks, or we go through V Corp’s numbers with Ruslan and Katia. I’m surprised by Kyle’s way of conducting business; he knows the ins and out at a level that rivals mine. When I asked him how he learned these things, he said it was from his ‘family’.
The one he told me about the other day. For the first time ever, he talked about a part of his life I had no idea about.
In the midst of our uneventful days, I’m far from relieved. If anything, I feel like it’s the calm before the storm.
Anastasia told me the storm already happened during the shooting at dinner, but why do I have a premonition like that’s not even the beginning of it?
Two days after the attack, Katia told me that they couldn’t get a DNA sample from Igor’s glass of wine because she was interrupted during the attack and wasn’t able to preserve the DNA. I was too preoccupied with Kyle to get another sample of Igor’s DNA during his recent visits, but I’ll eventually have it.
That moment when I saw Kyle lying in his own blood, all I could think about was that I’d lost him right after I had just gotten him back.
So, during these past couple of weeks, I’ve been at his side as he slowly recovers. I haven’t gone to the company a lot, and even when I do, I bring my work back home with me.
It’s not easy to juggle two lives at the same time, but I make it work so Kyle can get back on his feet again.
His recovery has been going smoothly. Even Dr. Putin said he has a strong immune system.
Last night, during a dinner with the leaders of the brotherhood, Sergei officially named him as his honorable councilor.
Though there was no formal ceremony, the fact remains that Kyle is now part of Sergei’s closest circle. If it were a few weeks ago, I would have been suspicious of how close Kyle has gotten, but after he put his own life on the line to save mine and Sergei’s, it’s not possible to.
Little by little, the bridge that was already broken between us has started to build again. For the first time since our marriage, it feels like there’s something to salvage between us, a connection of sorts that’s not directly connected to the physical department.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s inexplicable energy about having sex with Kyle. It’s freeing in a way words can’t describe.
Only a few days after being shot, Kyle insisted on fucking me—he wouldn’t stop talking about it every time we were in the same room. As a result, I attempted to get on top and ride him so he wouldn’t hurt his wound, but he suddenly flipped me over onto my back and fucked me until I screamed his name.
It’s become a habit since then. I try to ride him, and he goes with it at first, giving me a sense of power, just to snatch it away a few minutes later. It’s not really about the power anymore—for me, at least. I’m more interested in the tension and the connection that blossoms between us whenever I’m in his arms.
For Kyle, it’s most likely about the power and the control that comes with it. He likes it when I fight him in bed just so he can subdue me.
He gets off on seeing me powerless. He gets off on holding me by the throat. He gets off on having me underneath him, screaming or moaning his name, begging him to stop or go faster and harder. He gets off on those things, and he’s not ashamed to admit it.
I’ve become so addicted to that side