#future ex-wives

[slashdementia7734]

[slashdementia7734]

#FUTURE EX-WIVES

[endofthe1980s]

stop it jean you're getting in the way of his fantasies of you😕

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

If your taking requests can you please do Yandere Tengen uzui and his wives with a reader who died and was born as Tengens wives. ( a bit like recantation mawhnas)

Reincarnated Wife to be | Yandere Uzui Tengen + Wives

Being reborn into the world of shinobi is hard

Your higher intelligence is helpful for somethings but it still doesn’t compare to strength training before you can properly walk

Not to mention its the Taishō era 

Everything is different 

No plumbing 

No typical school

And on top of all that demons are alive and well

In your new lifetime demons don’t physically appear until your early teens

“That man…”

“Yeah a demon. Those overpowered slugs got to our target before us.”

It’s brutal 

That the clan you come from was just so nonchalant of an epidemic on humanity

That was arguably much more brutal then sending a shuriken before an unsuspecting person’s eyes

You only realize they intend to give you away when you hear whispers of the arranged marriage

“He’s the only one who’s survived…”

“Ah he must have the best genes…”

“....or the only one who actually can learn from those graves on their property.”

“What are they at….six?”

The final nail in the coffin is when your prepped to meet with your fellow wives

“Make sure you take note of their weaknesses. It’ll make all the difference when it comes to his favorites.”

Your hesitant

By now you recognize the venue, your sister wives, his surname

But despite how cool it is you don’t want to marry the future sound hashira

You know how it goes 

And your not sure if you’d survive with your addition to the other wives

So you run

Using your built up skill and knowledge to get as far as you can from your family if you could call it that

Your plan is to hide in someplace until you can gather enough wisteria to give yourself a private sanctuary

In the meantime you try to find the mineral of nichirin

Enough for you to craft a decent weapon that bodes well when demons occassionaly attack you

For years you’re sure your scott-free 

Able to slowly widdle at the demon’s population in your little sanctuary 

That is until you stop at the sound of jingling chains from the roof

“I heard there were talks about a mysterious ninja outside of demon corp! To think it’d be just who I was looking for!” 

You barely escape a young but powerful demon slayer who you can’t seem to decipher

Is he trying to kill you? 

To catch you?

Why does he keep following?

You hold up pretty well for a while unil you narrowly dodge a star thrown in your direction

“We really liked you (Y/n). Why’d you choose to run away?”

If it wasn’t worse already all three of them seem to arrive from the shadows to continue their assault

You try to reason with them 

“Can’t you understand?! I didn’t want to be forced to marry some guy I didn’t know!”

“But you knew us! Doesn’t that make it better?!”

“No it really doesn’t!”

It’s getting overwhelming 

So unless you’ve mastered some kind of style of your own

They’ll overpower you

“Yack!” 

Your strength is preying on their care for one another 

Sending an unusual violent kick toward Hinatsuru 

You take advantage of them running to help her

Easily disarming a distracted Tengen, you run off 

But you aren’t home free 

For whatever reason your ex-fiancees are just so hung up about you 

And between Uzui’s new occupation he’s aiming for your capture

“You’re just as flashy as I’d hoped! When I do win, there’s sure to be fireworks.”

[pmamtraveller]

VASILI VLADIMIROVICH PUKIREV, THE UNEQUAL MARRIAGE, 1862

The scene resembles a highly theatrical moment in a play; the church's light casts upon the three central characters in the artwork; the bride, highlighting her sorrowful and lovely form, the aged and weary-looking groom, and the bent priest. Around the couple are different attendants and spectators whose reactions vary from apathy to intrigue.

The bride is positioned on the right, wearing a classic white wedding dress and a veil. With a downcast face and a solemn look, she holds a lit candle in her hand. In sharp contrast, the groom, an older serious-looking man, stands on the left, wearing formal clothing with a medal on his chest, holding a matching candle, and gazing at his future bride.

The inspiration for the painting originated from a specific true story; Pukirev’s acquaintance, Sergei Mikhailovich Varentsov, a young merchant, was deeply in love with a twenty-four-year-old woman named Sofya Nikolaevna Rybnikova. However, her parents believed it would be more advantageous for her to wed a wealthier and more accomplished man, a thirty-seven-year-old named Andre Aleksandrovich Karzinkin. Sergei was compelled to attend the wedding and witness his beloved wed another for family reasons; his brother Nikolai had married Karzinkin’s younger sister. Sergei subsequently expressed concerns about Pukirev's painting, prompting the artist to alter the artwork. Pukirev ultimately positioned himself behind the bride.

The artwork is filled with symbolism that enhances its story, in the backdrop of the ceremony, among the spectators, two older women wearing wreaths resembling that of the bride (one behind the groom to the left, and the other on the far left barely visible behind the priest), with one of them depicted in white garment. The woman is barely visible and is adjacent to the priest, a rare arrangement since regular guests aren’t allowed to stand beside the priest during the ceremony. This might imply that these women are not physically present but instead represent the deceased ex-wives of the groom.

"The Unequal Marriage" created a stir when it was initially displayed at the yearly academic exhibition in 1862. Both critics and the public were impressed by its impactful social critique and deep emotional resonance. The artwork's bold depiction of the disparity in arranged marriages struck a chord with audiences, igniting conversations about social conventions and the treatment of young women.

[slashdementia7734]

[rickrifft]

New ships I'm ride or die for after this season:

- Sharako Lohar x Tyland Lannister (Lohar adding a new babygirl to her collection of wives is iconic)

- Rhaenyra x Mysaria (begging them to get over all their exes and slap more men)

- Aemond x Jace (they're playing Twilight Imperium while everyone else is playing Monopoly and I respect that)

- Ulf and Silverwing (serving Donkey and Dragon from Shrek, icons)

- Baela and Rhaena x some more gd screen time pls (spitting facts every scene, we need more common sense now Rhaenys is gone, give them more linessss)

- Larys x Aegon (hyped for the disability rep bois roadtrip next season, idk, they've got potential)

- Helaena x Alys (i headcannon that they have like a force-bond and chat about the future together in their dreams, fight me)

- Criston x Gwayne (Fabian and Freddie want us to want this so bad, and I am not opposed)

[odo-apologist]

Every ENT character is the most character ever. Archer is a bitch he plays a fundamental role in the creation of the Federation he brings his dog on away missions which once causes a diplomatic incident he likes water polo he commits war crimes he saw a gazelle giving birth and implements it into his rousing speeches he had a wet dream about his first officer that included his dog's funeral he had to carry the soul of the creator of the main tenets of Vulcan philosophy in his head he gives a lecture on Tycho Brahe while getting his ass beaten during an interrogation scene. T'Pol is strict in her Vulcan beliefs she doesn't believe in time travel even as she's presented with irrefutable evidence and remains somewhat skeptical after experiencing it firsthand she is the funniest person on Enterprise she is more emotional than average Vulcans to the point that she had to have memories erased for causing her too much distress she could canonically pick up any of her crewmates and carry them bridal style she has Vulcan HIV she has it cured by the woman that later watches Spock and Kirk roll around in the sand in Amok Time she is technically canonically trans she is a recovering drug addict. Trip is a perfect gentleman he undergoes incredible emotional losses his favorite movies are Frankenstein Bride of Frankenstein and Son of Frankenstein he gets pregnant five episodes in he dies in the worst episode of the entire series (and the entire franchise) only to have that death retconned in the following tie-in novels he ran around the ship in his underwear he leaves the ship for a couple weeks only to come back after one person had been kidnapped another thrown in jail and the engines are on the verge of destruction and reacts like :/. Malcolm is gay he has 50 ex-girlfriends he has only had one friend in his life his own sister barely knows anything about him he dies alone he likes pineapple even though he's allergic to it he gets spacesick he worked as an agent for a top secret organization he's afraid of drowning he whined about getting a cold he had a spike driven through his leg and didn't complain at all he has a psychosexual obsession with a man he thinks is after his job and grows to respect once they had a homoerotic fight scene before witnessing him die. Hoshi is a linguistic prodigy she's the greatest contributor to the universal translator she has a panic attack on one of her first missions she ran a gambling ring she has a black belt in aikido and broke her superior's arm she has never been to the principal's office in her life she is afraid to use the transporter she became an empress in an alternate universe she is the only one who gets laid on Risa making her the first human to do so she reacted to the threat of getting worms injected into her brain to make her reveal secret information by spitting in her interrogator's face. Travis is the sweetest man ever he loves rock climbing he gets injured whenever he tries to use those skills he's a fan of ghost stories he grew up on a small freighter he gets neglected by the narrative his counterpart helps Hoshi become empress he works out when he's horny he dies in a alternate future where Earth is destroyed he's a movie buff who would probably love the Criterion Collection he likes to chill in a part of the ship with zero gravity which he calls "the sweet spot." Phlox grins like the Cheshire Cat he breaks doctor patient confidentiality to help figure out Malcolm's favorite food he goes crazy when the rest of the crew have to sleep through part of space because of how social his species is he has three wives who in turn have three husbands he responds to the news of one of his wives propositioning a crew member by being like "cool! have fun :]" he once nearly vivisects Travis because he's being affected by radiation and gets obsessed with knowing why the guy has a simple headache he has a menagerie in the middle of his sickbay. And they're all my best friends.

[peyton-warren]

I loves her.

Dana dressing like she wants to attract women 😭

[cupcraft]

15 Ways Hilson Flirts in Canon:

1. Drugging each other (and liking it somehow)

2. Gay chicken leading to marriage proposal

3. Gay chicken leading to hiding chickens in PPTH

4. Flirting with Cuddy

5. Wanting the other to save his liver for a potential future transplant

6. Faking your death

7. Sending a private investigator after the other

8. Being "interesting" to the other and thus creating problems to investigate

9. Dating the woman version of the other (and describing it and not denying it)

10. Manipulating your way into poker club. Really poker in general.

11. Texting the other to give you attention -> current the other is seeing a child patient with cancer

12. Being codependent enough the ex wives of one say you ruined the marriages

13. Wanting to die so his dying ex girlfriend can live (that your actions lead to her accidental death)

14. Lying. For fun. For misery. For unexplained reasons. For detriment.

15. Doing anything for him. Doing anything for him. Dying. Losing your career, risking such a thing. Suicide. Giving him anti-depressants secretly. Helping him. Abandoning him. Always Doing whatever it takes. Doing anything for him

[female-malice]

Women who have only ever dated men think that crusty women are like crusty men. Women who read "female dating strategy" think this applies to lesbian relationships. But this heterosexual nonsense is actually completely irrelevant.

Women are not like men. And gay women are not like straight women.

The semi-homeless woman and the Microsoft engineer landlady I dated were equally dysfunctional. They were both smart and capable and both absolutely strange and mentally ill. They were also gregarious, poetic, and lovely in so many ways. And they both made crazy decisions about their lives and had zero relationship skills.

When lesbians are attracted to weird mentally ill women, it doesn't mean we're predators. It doesn't mean we're like men seeking out vulnerable women to abuse. It just means we're attracted to lesbians and lesbians are rarely well-adjusted.

The truth is, gay women are more fucked up than straight women. At the end of the day, life absolutely makes us weird. And we do so much to try and hide it because we want to be a model minority. We don't need to be told to get our shit together. We know. This is why we join the military and become CEOs and try to win as many sports trophies as possible. This is why we drink and drift from city to city. I've dated a lesbian "winner" and a lesbian "loser" and they're exactly the same. Winning doesn't fix us. Some lesbians are great in relationships and some aren't. But that has no correlation with whether you see a "winner" on the outside or a "loser." There's an equal amount of future lesbian wives and nightmare lesbian ex-girlfriends in both the "winner" and "loser" column.

[peyton-warren]

Death Race 2 is where I fell for her. SPN didn’t help. And TWD Cemented it for me

LAUREN COHAN by KATRINA KLEIN MAKEUP | April 24th, 2023

📷: @christianmarc Via. Instagram

@some-celebrity-stuffs @some-monthly-celebs @go-celebs @differentcookieturtlerascal

[r0-boat]

mother to a werewolf child

Head cannons for my dilf werewolf OC being the father of your kid.

Feat. The cannon ship kid with reader: Forest.

Sfw

Cw: babies, being pregnant, mental health struggles, PTSD, anxiety, hurt/comfort, domestic life in the woods, baby fever, uhh brief non graphic description of birth.

[Author's notes: Forest was created because I thought it would be fun for me to give you a ship kid with my OC. Forest is the only one that's Canon if you ever want to kid. They canonically look like the with reddish hair. so they can be anything you want, and they can be any gender you want too]

Cole is heavily damaged by the trauma that his ex-wife gave him after she had kids with him, so for some reason, the Deep anxiety is telling him that you will soon leave him too. Before his ex left him, when she found out he was a werewolf and he never saw his children again, he cut all contact with her in exchange of her not letting out his secret to everyone she knows.

He wanted to have a child with you. All he wanted to be was a father, but now here you are pregnant, and he's having a panic attack. Silently in his wolf form, he whimpered underneath furniture just enough for his big size. When you tried talking to him he almost didn't recognize you snarling and almost biting you but you wouldn't leave your husband and the father of your child alone. You gently stroked his head as the whining slowly stopped. He apologized for the outburst as a man he knows he should be much stronger than this and he also apologizes for almost biting you.

The pregnancy for the werewolf child was rough. You swore it was almost as if you were turning into one yourself, and your cravings for meat only intensified into raw game meat. Cole was happy to provide his instincts once again, tapping into the urge to provide for his hungry spouse with the child in their tummy. Your hormones are out of control, and you're physically weak. This child is sapping all of your strength.

Your husband, before this point, said his favorite thing to do when the chores were completed was sit down on the couch and watch TV with a beer. He stepped up, he vowed to take care of everything, he cleaned the house how you would clean it, he did everything and more. As much as he'd hate it if his side gig for hunting weren't bringing enough to feed you, he would go back and work driving hours to the nearest small town and work any job they would give him.

He has never felt like this before, and honestly, he loves it. The feeling of being relied on always felt oddly comforting to him. Maybe that's just his werewolf instincts he'd never know. It was tiring. But it was all worth it seeing your smiling face as you finally try to muster your strength to get out of bed. This inhuman child demanded so much of your energy. The person who gave you that beautiful demon spawn was at your beck and call. Cole, in the future, what, annoyingly uses this as an example of what masculinity should be. Men give it their all to take care of their wives.

One night, two crooks broke into your house, and before they could do anything, once they found you helplessly on your shared bed, your husband found you. In danger and potential, Danger got flashbacks to how his ex found him as a werewolf protecting her, and he lost it. He could have killed them that night if it weren't for him holding himself back as the Intruders ran shit scared. He held you tightly, his hand, your stomach, calming himself down. " so what's that like?" You ask. Call scratched his scruffy chin before answering, "It's hard to explain, but it's like having tunnel vision. All I could think about was you being hurt, as if I was in the moment. All I could see was you being hurt and pure anger."

Cole, with nowhere else, put you to deliver the child. He had to call a person who knew how to do it his mother. A werewolf just like him, a kind, gentle red-haired lady. You had met her before and she knew you were the right one and before long you had a wonderful child.

When Cole held his child in his arms, he had flashbacks to win. He had to bust his ass to make sure you were well and fed throughout your pregnancy, and he cried tears of joy. Never once would he forget and regret that day

Forest was... Wild they are intelligent and learn very quickly; however, raising them was like having a little puppy with the intelligence of a human child. However, your dumbass husband was prepared. You had to double-take when you saw the plastic bag with the PetSmart label on it.... it worked... as long as Forest wasn't chewing on the furniture.

Forest in their wolf form looked exactly like their father, albeit with a more brownish-red tint from dad and with one floppy ear.

Cole was beaming with pride he swears it won't be like the last time he'll protect Forest with his life. Cole, we'll teach them everything they know how to find edible plants and hunting. Father and child running through the forest feeling the wind in their fur with you on Cole's back traveling to a small creek to play in the cool water need to go home and fall asleep in Cole's arms snuggling you close, lovingly protectively

[widowsistersandfriends]

Do You Remember Pain?

Request: Your Agatha fic was so cute ! I love the show so far and I was wondering if you could write something between Agatha and Rio ? Maybe something about them talking about the past and discovering again by accident how ticklish they still are ? Or whatever works for you, I’m sure it’ll be amazing ! Have a good day :)

Note: Thank you so much for this request and I appreciate you reading/supporting my fics! I hope you enjoy!! <3

Word Count: 1696

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Agatha and Rio had a long history. Known to be bitter ex wives, the two of them knew each other inside and out.

Agatha hadn’t been expecting Rio to show up to her doorstep with pizza, and most definitely did not expect her to be on the road with her now. She couldn’t believe she had to work with her in order to complete the road. 

The road was dark and quiet, as the coven was all resting for the night. Only Agatha and Rio remained around the dimly lit fire.

“How’s life been treating you?” Rio asked suddenly, after a long and awkward pause. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know, you nosy little fake,�� Agatha snapped back, still bitter at her.

“Hey woah, I’m just trying to make conversation and make this easier on both of us,” Rio said, putting her hands up defensively. 

“Oh really? You want to make it easier? Why didn't you make it easier by not showing up?” Agatha asked harshly.

As strong as Rio was, she was taken aback by these words, wondering if Agatha still really hated her as much as she portrayed.

“You guys summoned me here. I had no choice,” Rio said flatly. 

Agatha sunk her shoulders slightly forward, knowing that the stress of conquering the road and getting her powers back had made her lash out. There was still part of her deep down inside that cared so much for Rio. She just didn’t know how to express it properly.

After some silence, Agatha spoke up, trying to make things better.

“Did you ever think of me after we split up?” Agatha asked cautiously.

Rio looked out into the distance, biting her lip slightly.

“A little,” Rio admitted.

“Do you?” Rio asked.

“Yes,” Agatha said with a sigh.

“I remember when I first met you. You were hardly the witch you are today,” Rio commented.

“I’m not gonna be a witch again until I get my powers back,” Agatha said.

“Well don’t let me distract you from that,” Rio said.

“I knew you were trying to while riding that stupid stick broom,” Agatha said with disgust.

“Who, me?” Rio asked innocently.

“Don’t try me,” Agatha said. 

Rio gave out a rare chuckle, missing the banter and teasing that used to coat all of their conversations. 

“Do you remember pain?” Rio asked suddenly.

“Physical or emotional?” Agatha asked, making Rio feel guilty.

“I guess I meant physical,” Rio mumbled.

“I’m not sure honestly. After Wanda took my powers and put me under that spell, I don’t even remember certain things,” Agatha said, a slight sadness coating her voice. 

“I’m sorry if I hurt you emotionally. I was trying to protect you and do what’s best for us. I guess I was wrong about that,” Rio confessed. 

“Well, it’s all in the past, right?” Agatha said, as Rio nodded.

“We can work on building the future,” Rio said.

“So do you feel anything at all?” Rio asked.

“What?” Agatha asked, not knowing that they were still on that topic.

“Well you know, other things besides pain,” Rio said.

“What exactly are you getting at?” Agatha asked, suspicious of what Rio was getting at, but not wanting to suggest it in case she was wrong.

“Oh, I don’t know, like if a bug is on you, would you feel that? You know, for defense and protection purposes,” Rio said, looking at the fire.

Agatha smirked, knowing exactly what she was getting at.

“You mean like this?” Agatha asked, placing a spider from the road on Rio’s arm, making her let out an uncharacteristic scream.

“AGATHA!” Rio shouted, jumping up and flicking the bug off of her. Agatha let out a cackle, happy with her success of turning the tables on Rio.

“Did that tickle?” Agatha asked.

“No! I just don’t like poisonous creatures on me,” Rio scoffed.

“You’re just mad I was one step ahead of you,” Agatha said, still chuckling at her reaction. 

Rio got up to move out of her reach, but let out a yelp in pain, as she was barefoot and had stepped on something sharp.

“What’s wrong?” Agatha asked, now genuinely concerned.

“I think I stepped on some sharp thing. This road sucks,” Rio said, checking to see if she was bleeding. 

Agatha walked over to see what it was. She cautiously put her foot on the spot where Rio got hurt. To her surprise, she didn’t feel pain at all. However, much to her dismay, she felt a small tingle on the bottom of her foot. 

Agatha cursed silently in her head when she quickly picked her foot up and removed it from the object. Unfortunately, Rio had seen all of this and it was now her turn to smirk. 

“So I was right. Pain kinda tickles for you, doesn’t it?” Rio asked, walking towards her.

Agatha quickly backed up. “Wait, no let’s talk about this.”

“Too late,” Rio said, using her powers to gently knock Agatha over and then pin her.

“Get off of me you hag!” Agatha exclaimed.

“Wow, your vocab really shines when you’re scared,” Rio teased, as Agatha was pinned face down. Rio moved to sit on her calves, giving her full access to her feet.

“Rio I mean it! This is your last warning!” Agatha shouted.

“Better keep quiet, the others are sleeping. You wouldn’t want them finding out about this would you?” Rio asked, now skittering her nails over Agatha’s soles.

Agatha tried her hardest to keep her laugh in, giggles, snorts and yelps all escaping her lips.

“Come on Agatha, just let it out,” Rio demanded, moving up to tickle under her toes.

This made Agatha lose it, bursting into hysterical laughter, very fitting for a witch. 

“RIHIHIO! STAHAHAP NOW!!” Agatha demanded, not being so scary anymore.

“So you are still ticklish huh?” Rio asked, knowing how much Agatha hated this. 

“NOHOHO NOW GEHEHET OHOHOFF,” Agatha squealed out.

“Hmm, no I think I still have some other spots to check,” Rio said, now turning around to tickle her sides and ribs. Agatha cursed and went into a new fit of laughter.

Her laughter was so loud that neither one of them noticed that it had woken up the others in the coven and they had come over to see what all the noise was about. Billy, Lilia, Alice, and Jen were all hiding behind some bushes so they wouldn’t be seen.

“What on earth is happening?” Lilia asked, genuinely concerned.

“I guess the big bad witch is…ticklish?” Jen answered, as all of them were not used to this rare sight.

Rio finally had mercy on Agatha when she threatened to spill all her secrets to the public.

Rio chuckled, getting off of Agatha. “I can’t believe you’re that ticklish!” Rio exclaimed.

“Yeah? How ticklish are you huh? Don’t think you can fool me with that whole spiel about poisonous bugs,” Agatha said, tackling Rio and pinning her on her back.

“Of course you decided to pin me where my boobs are right in your face,” Rio said with an eye roll. That set Agatha off, immediately reaching down to tickle her ribs.

“NO WAHAHAIT,” Rio pleaded.

“Not so tough now?” Agatha asked, loving to see Rio’s rare toothy grin.

“IHIH AHAHAM TOHOUGH,” Rio giggled out, not making a very strong case.

“Really? Tough enough to handle tickles on your armpits?” Agatha asked, moving her hands up and making Rio scream and thrash as much as she could.

“STAHAHAHAP PLEHEHEASE,” Rio shouted, hating the sensation and hating the fact that she couldn’t appear tough. 

“Don’t forget who’s in charge,” Agatha whispered in her ear, making her flinch.

“YOHOURE THE BOHOTTOM,” Rio argued back, but was quickly cut off, as Agatha began to spider over her tummy and squeeze her hips.

“OKAHAHAY STAHAHAP MEHERCY,” Rio quickly pleaded, as Agatha smirked triumphantly.

“I win again, just like old times,” Agatha said, taunting her by booping her nose. The gesture was so utterly unlike Agatha it made the whole coven gasp.

“What was that?” Agatha asked quickly, now fearing that the Salem seven had returned. Rio and Agatha quickly had their guard up, scanning the area. The coven tried to quickly disperse and pretend like they were sleeping, however, Lilia tripped over a rock when trying to escape. Jen gasped and quickly caught her, but the commotion was too much.

“Lilia!” Jen hissed at her.

“I’m sorry but there’s common misconceptions about witches and one of them is that we are perfectly graceful. I’m proof that we are not,” Lilia explained, as Alice hushed them and told them to get down. Agatha and Rio were getting closer.

The wind began to blow slightly, stirring the leaves around them. A leaf blew past Billy’s head, making him scream as he thought it was a bat. 

“AAAAAHHH! IM TOO PRETTY TO DIE!” Teen screamed, making all the others scream and run.

“What the,” Agatha commented, watching her coven disperse in different directions.

“HEY!” Agatha shouted, making them all stop and turn.

“Were you spying on us?” Agatha asked in disbelief.

“I don’t think spying is the right word,” Billy said with a small chuckle.

“We just may have seen your tickle fight, but it was so cute, so there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Alice explained, sugar coating it as much as she could.

“I would’ve gotten rid of all of you by now if I wasn’t on the road,” Agatha scoffed, as Rio chuckled softly. 

“Hey, don’t laugh, they saw you too. You’re worse than me!” Agatha argued to Rio.

“You’re the only one here who’s embarrassed by it though,” Rio commented, smirking as she saw Agatha blush.

“Can we just continue on with the road? I’m not here to bond with any of you,” Agatha said, walking ahead.

“I’ve got her wrapped around my finger, don’t you guys worry about a thing. She won’t lay a finger on you guys with me around,” Rio assured the coven, as they followed after Rio.

“Wait, we didn’t even get to sleep,” Lilia complained.

“Sleep is for the weak!” Agatha shouted from up ahead. With that, they continued down the road, secrets and all. 

———————————————————————-

If you’ve made it this far and enjoy my writing please consider supporting it on my kofi!

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Chapter 2 - Fortes Fortuna Iuvat (Fortune Favors the Bold)

A Mafia!Steve Harrington AU (featuring Mafia!Eddie Munson)

Previous l Next

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Loathing toward your husband only intensifies. Fear drives you to stay away from your past but staying away from Steve proves to be harder than you anticipated as he begins to set his newly laid plans into motion.

18+ Only! Minors DNI! (Future smut and mature themes!)

CW: Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "Dove." Pet names. Slow burn. Exes to lovers. Mutual pining. Angst. Spousal abuse. Nefarious Mafia deals and plans. Reader's husband has extramarital affairs. Mention of gambling/drugs.

WC: 5.4K

The harsh glare of sunlight streaming through the curtains, along with the shrill alarm ringing in your ears abruptly ends any semblance of peace. An unwelcome intrusion to your senses, feeling as though you had just fallen asleep and not at all ready to face the day. 

Quickly turning over, shutting off the noise and promptly falling back onto your mattress, you pulled the sheets back up around you tightly, burying your head beneath the covers. 

Spending most of the night sobbing into your pillow instead of getting any real rest would make for an excruciatingly long day but your mind just wouldn't let you sleep, spiraling with too many thoughts and scenarios. 

The fight with Nik the night before only solidified the hatred you had toward the man. If there had been love once, it is gone now. What a fool you had been to think this was ever anything more than a business transaction. You just hoped to God you could still serve some sort of purpose. 

You’d seen what happens to mob wives that were no longer needed, either turned out into the cold or worse, some simply disappeared but with your father still holding power over Nik, he wouldn’t dare attempt such a foolish stunt. 

Calling your assistant and telling her you weren't going to make it in had crossed your mind. The warm cocoon surrounding you made it almost impossible to exhume yourself, but you finally sighed, throwing the covers off and stretching with a groan. 

Your feet and limbs feel heavy, crossing the carpeted room into the bathroom, cringing when you finally catch sight of the puffy bags under your eyes. 

The newly formed bruises on your arm grab your attention. Splotches of dark and muted purples and blues paint the otherwise empty canvas of your skin. 

Quickly you turned away, pushing it temporarily from your mind, shedding your silk chemise over your head to take a much needed shower. You let the hot water pour over you, washing away the night before. If only it could remove the evidence lingering on your body. 

You emerge from your room only after getting fully dressed and ready to leave for the day. 

The kitchen was toward the back of the house.  You didn’t spot him until you rounded the corner on the first-floor landing. Nik was sitting there reading his paper, setting it down as you walked in. 

“Sleep well, dear?” Smirking, as he sipped his coffee narrowing his eyes over the rim at you. 

Pointedly ignoring him, you instead reached for a mug turning your back to him. The silence only spurred his intense nature. He loved nothing more than confrontation and getting a rise out of someone. 

“Oh, come now kitten. Everyone has a lover's quarrel. You aren't mad, are you?” A mocking tone that had you seething, as you practically slammed the mug down against the countertop. 

“A lover's quarrel?” You spun around to face him. “Is that what that was, Nik? If that's your idea of love, I'm glad I have no part of it with you.” 

He chuckled as you tried to walk past, but he quickly grabbed your wrist squeezing tightly, pulling you back, as he stood. His imposing stature looming over you to get his point across. If threats fail, he can rely on his brute force. 

“Don't forget, Kitten. Stay away from him.” His eyes were dark and cold as you pulled away. “Or I'm afraid it won't be good for either of you.” 

Your stomach felt nauseated, retreating from the space trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.  

“Have a good day!” He called after, his menacing laugh following you out the door.

Staying away from Steve would be easy but avoiding him would be an altogether different story. Deep down, you didn't want him to stay away, you were just as much drawn to him as he was to you. 

Since your morning didn't go as planned, expecting Nik to already be gone so you could enjoy your usual coffee in peace, you had to swing by the small cafe close to the gallery to get your caffeine fix. 

You had your driver drop you off, letting him head back to the house; no doubt letting Nik know your every move once you dismissed him. Only now you suspect he would double down his efforts to keep tabs on you.  

It was a beautiful morning. You didn't want to dwell when you could enjoy the sites and sounds of the city around you. 

The coffee shop was busy in the midst of the morning rush. You'd placed your order and stood in line for pick up, checking some emails to pass the time. 

Unbeknownst to you, Steve was sitting in the corner watching you with bated breath. He loved seeing you in the mundane every day of your routine. He wanted to soak in every little detail. 

He stood, taking slow, precise steps sneaking up behind you, getting close enough to whisper in your ear before you had even noticed. 

He made a mental note to have a stern conversation with you regarding your lack of situational awareness and being too comfortable with your surroundings. The nature of the lives you led left you exposed and vulnerable at all times, even with hired bodyguards nearby. 

“Good morning, little Dove. You look beautiful, as always.” 

Goosebumps erupted across your flesh, as his breath faintly tickled at your cheek, but you didn't turn around. You didn't want to make a spectacle of the way he affected you, instead taking a step forward putting a little distance between the two of you. 

You were glad he wasn't able to see your face right away, eyes still puffy but less so than earlier in the morning. 

It would be a pleasant surprise, if Nik's threatening words weren't lingering in your mind. You needed to leave without giving him an inclination that something might be off. 

“Are you stalking me, Mr. Harrington?” You smile, as the barista hands you your steaming cup, thanking her as you take it. 

“Is this what passes for coffee now?” He scoffs, after taking a sip from his own, deflecting from the question you just asked, as you finally face him. 

He immediately noticed the usual shine and sparkle in your eyes was dulled, a bit of sadness radiating from you despite your cheery disposition. 

“Well, most of us aren't Italian snobs when it comes to coffee, Steven.” You snarked, trying to keep a playful demeanor but he could see right through it. Even now, he knows you far too well. 

There was a small crease in his brow as you gazed up at him, his hazel eyes boring into yours making it hard to focus on anything else. 

“Tesoro, what's wrong?” He whispered, his playful grin dropping into a small frown, resisting the urge to lift a hand to your cheek, brushing those loose strands of hair behind your ear. 

“Nothing's wrong Steve. I… I should go.” Swiftly brushing past him. 

“Dove? Hey!” Speaking a little more loudly trying to regain your attention, but you were already heading out of the shop, nodding when you caught Eddie's eye by the entrance.

He makes no more attempts to call after you, watching you weave into the crowd and out of sight on the bustling city sidewalk. 

“Ci vediamo, little Dove.” Whispering to himself as he heads the opposite direction, knowing he'll see you again soon enough.

Steve's day had begun like any other. 

Up at 6 am. Morning jog. Shower. Taking his coffee and breakfast in his office going over the day's agenda and business to attend to. 

It had been like this since he was twenty-two, taking over in Italy as his grandfather retired. Only this time he was back in Chicago; his dad was gone, and he was left in charge of everything. 

He had remained a dutiful son, taking care of his mother and Pip despite whether Richard appreciated him or not, giving up trying to earn the man's approval long ago. 

He put his head down and learned all the ins and outs of the business earning his own title and reputation, making a real name for himself in Italy but in Chicago he was still only the son of Richard Harrington. He had something to prove, not only to himself but the entire mafia world. 

No wife, no children, no distractions. He drowned himself with work, content with his routine and the small empire he was building. 

At least, he thought he was content until the day he had seen you again. 

It was by chance, or perhaps fate, if you believe in those types of things. He and Eddie had stopped for lunch at a small cafe when he'd gotten back into town. 

They had elected to sit outside. It was an unusually warm, sunny day with no clouds in sight.

He was talking with Eddie, when something just behind him caught his eye. Narrowing his vision just beyond the older man's head, he spotted your profile as you were speaking to someone at the flower shop across the street. 

He would know you anywhere. Just as beautiful as the last time he saw you. He would dare say even more so now. 

It was as if time had slowed. He continued to watch you as Eddie's words became nothing but white noise in the background of his mind. His heart rate ticked up, feeling as though it might leap entirely from his chest. 

He had hoped to avoid you for as long as possible but seeing you now, he was suddenly racked with a feeling of guilt. 

The guilt he feels from the sins of his past or sudden guilt at the thought of needing to avoid you, he wasn't sure. It gnawed at him, sitting deep in his chest. Seeing you again brought up feelings he thought he was able to bury long ago, laying aside his own selfish need for the good of his family and you. 

You were dressed in a black pencil skirt, silk button up blouse with a matching blazer. His eyes trailed your curves wondering where you were off to dressed so professionally. 

Surely little Niki kept you at home, happy and content. He couldn't imagine you having to lift a finger, let alone actually working.

It was then that Eddie looked up, words trailing off when he finally noticed Steve's focus was elsewhere. He turned to follow his gaze but didn't recognize you the way the younger man had. 

“First time I've seen a pretty face distract you, boss. Y’ok over there?” He chuckled, taking another bite of his sandwich. 

“Eddie, I need you to follow her.” Eyes never leaving you. Eight years later and he knew nothing and everything about you all at once. He needed more. 

“What?” Eddie asked around a mouthful of food, swallowing it haphazardly as his eyes went wide.  “When did we get into stalking strangers? You could just go talk to her like a normal dude if you're that interested.” 

“That's not a stranger Eddie. It's Dove.” The older man turned again, taking a better look at you before nodding his understanding. 

“Got it.” Eddie had dropped everything, doing as he was told. 

He had followed you to the gallery and reported back to Steve, where he promptly paid you a visit.

Eddie had been keeping tabs on you every day since. 

He was able to figure out how your bodyguards kept up with you. They were lazy, most likely bored with their job. Being able to see you was almost too easy. 

-

Steve didn't get distracted. It wasn't in his nature but when it came to you, he couldn't help himself. It's as if he was drawn to you by some invisible force. 

He had a business to run, first and foremost. 

A daunting task lay ahead, but he'd already made headway. He was mending broken agreements and making new ones. Dealings were growing in just the few days he had taken over, proving himself a formidable leader and cunning businessman. 

The relationship he was most interested in was with your father. David and Richard never saw eye to eye, but Steve would be the first to admit his father was a hard to deal with bastard, so he couldn't fault anyone for that. 

Your father always had a soft spot for Steve, watching the two of you grow up together.

It did however come as a surprise that your father had reached out first, the day after Richard's funeral. 

Standing on the sidewalk watching you fade into the crowd after your run in at the coffee shop, he and Eddie headed to a very important meeting at your childhood home. 

Little did either of you know that today would change the course of both of your lives. 

You tried to focus on work. Truly you did but all of your thoughts were swirling with Steve Harrington and then Nik. 

You knew what Nik was capable of, his warnings going off like sirens in your head. The thought of anything happening to Steve because of you made you sick. 

-

There had been something special with Steve. He was your first love. Thinking back to those days, you could never have imagined your life with someone else until you weren't given a choice. 

Richard made sure that Steve would stay in Italy until his dying breath. The two of you being absolutely inseparable made it hard for Richard to control him. He saw Steve as nothing more than a petulant rebel, doing everything to spite his own son. He kept him in line the only way he knew how, busy with work and away from you. 

Your mothers had been best friends, staying close, despite their husbands growing tension toward each other. 

When your mother passed away, Sofia took you in like one of her own. Your father had taken her death quite hard. He had you spending those first few months living at the Harrington's more than your own home, letting him grieve in peace. 

Only being five at the time, the magnitude of what had happened didn't register but you knew she was gone and wasn't coming back. Sofia tried to make it as easy as possible for you, telling Steve that he would always need to look after you. He seemed to take it to heart, doing exactly that from that day forward. 

When it came to you, he was a total pushover from the start. He'd do anything to make you smile, something that would never change.

From sharing ice cream at the park to sleepovers in living room forts, you did everything together, Pip always tagging along until Sofia left.

Richard ended those playdates soon after, taking Steve along on meetings and unsavory business much too young, telling him he needed to toughen up and put away such childish things. Only a man could run the business. 

Attending separate schools made it that much more difficult to see him, only catching glimpses of the boy from time to time when he was allowed to come out on the weekends but then Richard became all the more strict. 

Suddenly summer was the only time he could sneak away to see you. Or those rare times his father was away, you would come over to swim in his pool or watch movies, except Eddie replaced Pip as the third wheel. 

As you two grew into teens, his protective nature only amplified. 

The summer you turned 16, you seemed to mature and blossom overnight. You were beautiful and even then, he knew he was in trouble. 

Everyone quickly came to learn you were off limits. If someone even looked in your direction he would threaten them, including Eddie, who wasn't immune to your beauty and charm. 

It would be another year before Steve finally admitted his all too obvious feelings for you. Being best friends and knowing everything about each other had you falling into it with a simple ease. 

Destiny. Fate. Soulmates. Call it what you will but it seems you were forever to be intertwined with this boy you fell in love with when you were twelve, and you were sure that Steve felt the same. 

When Steve turned 18, things began to drastically change, and Richard was quickly losing any control he had left. He was free, seeing you anytime he pleased, staying out until the early hours of the morning or not returning home at all. 

He wanted to send Steve to school halfway across the country, but he refused, choosing to stay in Chicago for you. If he knew then how everything would have played out, he would have suffered those four years apart. He picked the wrong battle to fight his father for, costing him in the end.

You were afforded four years of bliss before he was ripped out of your life. Four years of promises, hopes and dreams. All gone before they could even begin. 

Duty and honor. Something you would learn all too well. It was under the guise that they needed Steve to learn the business overseas so he could take over the entire empire. 

It was easier to start in Italy. He could take over the small faction and make it his own until the inevitability of moving back to the states to take over for his father. 

Neither of you imagined at the time it would be so permanent. 

Steve and Eddie pulled up to the club that Nik owns, phoning ahead for the small, impromptu meeting beforehand. They had to know what they were getting into, so what better way than to see it all firsthand. 

“Sure, Harrington. Swing by. We can chat.” He chuckled into the line before it went dead. 

Steve hated the man, but he was going to try to be diplomatic, if for nothing else, you. 

The driver opened Steve's door, as Eddie exited opposite him. Both men doing a quick survey of the parking lot and exterior of the building. 

It was a gaudy looking place. Too flashy and in your face. If you wanted the attention this was definitely the way to do it, ensuring to attract the wrong kind in the process. 

Steve curled his lip in disgust, aptly named “Bad Habits” with signs out front boasting “Cage Dancers. Fully Nude Lap Dances. Best drinks in town.”

What a goddamn joke. A boy running a frat house at best. He was never known for his tactfulness, so none of it came as a shock. 

Nik had taken over for his own father shortly after Steve left for Italy, promptly turning this place upside down while also throwing a wrench in the way business was done. He was a wildcard, but unfortunately smart enough to stay ahead of the game. 

The illegal shit was upstairs. Gambling. Drugs. Hookers. You name it. 

Richard had owned a similar establishment uptown. A front for a gambling den but it was more upscale with the storefront advertising a gentleman's smoking club. Not this demeaning and tasteless thing that he was currently looking at. 

One of Nik's henchmen opened the side door on their approach. 

“This way gentleman.” Gruffly spewing, as they followed him.

The interior was just as bad from his initial impression. Smoke lingered in the red and black interior hallway, the smell of cheap perfume and sex faintly present but he didn't expect anything less.

The men that hung out here weren't people that Steve associated with. The sudden realization that you were associated with it saddened him. This is not at all the life you longed for, and he knew it. 

The bald-headed ogre stopped in front of the door at the end of the hall, throwing both men a sideways glance before knocking. 

An annoyed “yeah” came through. 

“Boss, they're here.” 

There was a pause and some shuffling behind the door before it opened, revealing a disheveled looking young woman. Her mascara ran down her cheeks, with lipstick smudged across her chin as she was pushing her skirt further down her thighs. 

She paused when she caught sight of all three men staring at her, uttering a quick “excuse me” before jutting past them down the hall. 

Steve raised his brow giving Eddie a knowing look, telling him to “stay here” as he followed the other man into the room. 

Nik was adjusting himself behind the desk, rolling his sleeves up his forearms before slicking his hair back into place. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he had been up to. It was like salt in an already festering wound, so blatantly doing so in front of Steve. He could have easily hidden it but chose not to. 

It would take everything in him to not come across the desk and wipe the floor with this all too cocky mother fucker. 

“You can leave us.” Addressing the other man, as he finally looked up at Steve. 

“Nikolai, have you been avoiding your old friend?” Steve's voice remained jovial, a stark contrast from the way he felt, reaching out to shake the other man's hand.

Nik didn't even have the decency to stand up to greet him, immediately showing his true colors, grip a little too firm as they shook. 

“Harrington, I never thought I would see the day you'd set foot in my club. My, how the times have changed.” He grinned, looking Steve up and down in an almost predatory way as if he were sizing up his next meal. 

“Well, we aren't our fathers Nik. And it's true, we were friends once.” Steve stayed standing, waiting for an invitation to sit. 

Nik finally stood, turning his back to Steve and striding over to the small liquor cabinet in the corner. 

“Drink?” Finally offering as he began to pour his own from the crystal decanter, no doubt some sort of vodka held within, a Russian specialty. 

“Sure.” He replied, watching him intently as he brought the other glass over, handing it to Steve before taking his seat once more. 

“Sit.” He ordered more than offered, making Steve hesitate a moment before relenting. 

“So, what do I owe the pleasure of your presence today? Will it be business or pleasure? I'm sure I can get one of my favorite girls to show you a good time. I could personally recommend a few.” He sneered, releasing a chuckle. Steve on the other hand saw no amusement in his remark, gripping his rocks glass a little tighter. 

“Thanks for the offer, but I'll pass.” He took a sip of the clear liquid, letting it sit on his tongue a moment before it slipped down his throat, the burn finally settling in his stomach. 

“Suit yourself. Missing out of some of the best pussy Russia has to offer.” He laughed again, taking a sip from his own glass. 

Steve didn't want to stay here any longer than he had to, mostly worried he might do something rash if the conversation kept going the way it was headed. 

“Look, we can skip the small talk. We both know why I'm here. Richard is dead. I'm trying to broker some new deals and I know he made more enemies than friends; your family included. What do you say we have a proper sit-down next week?” Setting the glass down on the desk in front of him, trying his damnedest to hide the way his anger was trying to boil over. He had to stay levelheaded.  

“I'll think about it, Harrington.” He smirked, feeling as though he had the upper hand. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm a busy man these days. I'm sure you can see yourself out.” 

“Sure. Just have your people get in touch.” Steve rose, crossing the small room. His hand was on the door handle, opening it slightly before Nik spoke again. 

“Oh, Harrington. By the way, I can always see why you tried to keep Y/N to yourself back then.” A low chuckle escaping him. “She certainly can be a handful. And now, she's all mine.” 

Steve paused for only a moment, not looking back at the other man, letting a breath escape heavy from his nostrils, jaw ticking before walking entirely from the office. 

Eddie was waiting for him at the end of the hall, as they both exited the club. Walking in stride with him before the two men entered the waiting car. 

Steve immediately pulled out his phone, typing away, ignoring the raised brow that Eddie cast his way. He knew his demeanor all too well. He was pissed.

“So, that went well, huh?” Eddie finally asked. 

The younger man immediately stopped typing, releasing a heavy sigh setting his phone face down on his lap. 

“About as well as you'd expect that neanderthal to behave. He's a goddamn piece of shit.” Sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, feeling an impending headache on the approach. 

“So, plan B?” Eyebrows raised and lips pursed in Steve's direction as he nods his reply. 

“Plan B. And we're making one more stop.” Picking his phone back up, finishing the conversation from before. 

“Got it, boss.” Eddie replied, telling the driver exactly where they were headed without having to be told. 

You'd been sitting at your desk ruminating all day trying to avoid any tasks that would lead you to do any work on the main floor. Your assistant was under strict orders not to disturb you unless it was absolutely necessary. 

Busying yourself with the last of the invoices and emails when a soft knock came to the door as she popped her head in, clearing her throat. 

“Yes, Abigail?” Not looking up from your laptop. 

“Mrs. Petrov, I know you said not to bother you, but you have a visitor out in the gallery. A Mr. Harrington said it's urgent and needs to see you right away.” She nervously chewed at her bottom lip awaiting your reply. 

“Of course he did.” You sighed, tossing your glasses to your desk as you stood. 

“Yes, alright, fine. Let him know I'll be out in a few minutes.” 

She nodded and straightened her posture before closing the door once more leaving you alone. You quickly did a once over in the mirror and smoothed out your dress before following her out. 

The hall to the office was in the back. Turning right led directly to roof access and turning left down the hall led to another door that was directly to the side of the gallery. No one has access back here except you and Abigail.  

Nik’s goons had their orders to sit out front at all times and it suddenly crossed your mind that they had most likely seen Steve enter the building, suddenly sending your nerves into overdrive. 

Your heels clicked across the marble flooring, spotting him with his back to you, studying one of the newest paintings in the far corner. You couldn't tell if he was genuinely interested in it or just biding his time until you met him. 

“Steve?” You asked, coming to stand beside him. 

He turned, hearing your soft voice, meeting you with that warm smile that tugged at your heart. 

“Interesting work.” Looking back to the painting. 

It was an abstract by a little-known artist that you had grown quite fond of. Two silhouettes seemingly tangled together with a kaleidoscope of colors and lines that bled together. Look too closely and you would lose track of where one ended and the other began.

“It is. The artist calls it, Entanglement of the Heart. Their interpretation of true love. You get so caught up in the other person you lose sight of yourself and find it in them. No end, no beginning.” Clasping your hands in front of you. “But I know you're not here for art.” 

“No. I'm not.” He chuckled, looking down and back up to you. Stepping further into your space as you scanned the room making sure no one noticed his close proximity. 

“Dove, are you okay?” He lowered his voice to a whisper despite no one else being around. He studied your profile, because you were afraid to meet his gaze. You could never lie to him, so you stayed silent. 

“That's a silly question. I know something's wrong. Dove, look at me.” When you don't immediately turn or respond, a soft “please” escapes him as his fingertips gingerly hook under your chin pulling your face up toward him.

You inhale deeply, closing your eyes before finally meeting his worried gaze with your own teary eyed one. 

“Honey,” he breathed out. “Please, tell me.” 

Nik's words once again coming to rest at the forefront of your mind had you suddenly taking a step back, blinking furiously at the tears that threatened to spill over as his hand fell back to his side. 

“You should go.” Suddenly pressing your palms to his chest before turning heel toward the back office but he wouldn’t give up that easily. 

“Dove, please.” Reaching out to grab your already bruised arm, halting your escape. The small wince you let out didn't go unnoticed, making him immediately drop his hold on you. 

“Steve, please just go.” You pleaded, suddenly aware that Abigail was watching you, eyes cutting sharply to her then back to Steve. “I have to get back to work.” 

This time he didn't stop you. Slipping his hands into the pockets of his trousers as his eyes lingered on your form before you disappeared into the back, sighing loudly letting his shoulders deflate a bit. 

He caught Abigail on the way out, purchasing the painting he had been admiring, something about it reminding him of you, before slipping back the way he had come avoiding anyone that could be watching.

Later that night, he sipped bourbon as he studied the painting, now hung above the fireplace in his newly renovated office. Eyes flitting this way and that. No matter how hard he tries he can't stop thinking of you. 

“Goddamnit!” Hissing to himself, before downing the rest of his bourbon, placing the empty glass back to the table with a loud thump. 

He now knew two things for certain. 

Nik was not going to cooperate. Much too self-centered to try to work their differences out and much too power hungry to ever give up any stake he had in the city. He wouldn't hear back from him which now led him to unfortunately go with his second set of plans. 

The second thing he knew is that he's still in love with you and wants nothing more than to get you away from the asshole you call your husband. 

He could see the way you looked at him, eyes full or adoration. When he spoke so fondly, letting small compliments and praises leave his lips, he didn't miss the way your cheeks would flush. He was sure you still felt something for him too, but he could also see your trepidation and unfortunately fear. 

The way you always looked over your shoulder when he was with you told him everything he needed to know. You were scared of Nik. 

After today, it crossed his mind that he had already fucked up, pushing you too much before this could properly start. 

He HAD to keep you out of harm's way, which also meant keeping you somewhat in the dark. If anything were to happen to you, he couldn't live with himself. There were already too many moving parts and variables to consider. 

He made his way over to his desk, picking up the phone and making the necessary but dreaded call. It only took a few rings for them to pick up. 

“It's a go. Let's proceed cautiously. I know you've got a lot riding on this as well.” 

Pausing to listen to the words coming from the other end before replying. 

“I know her well enough that she doesn't care about him. I'll do whatever it takes. We can start tomorrow.”

He ended the call, placing the phone back to its cradle, sighing deeply, telling himself it was the only way.

Big risks meant big rewards and he would stop at nothing to get you back and take Nikolai Petrov down. 

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