This is book 2 in the "Beautiful Destruction" series. You MUST READ "Theirs to Claim" first in order to understand this one.
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When I was ten, my father told me that all of my dreams would one day come true. Naively, I believed him.
I may have gr...
A/N: Part 1 of the double update. Make sure you read this one first, and then chapter 17 <3
Also, I just realized that only my followers get notified of what I post on my conversation board, so to any additional readers interested in it, I'm currently creating a playlist with a song dedicated to each chapter in "Theirs to Claim". If you have any ideas and want to be a part of it, feel free to send me a song with the chapter number it correlates to and I'll give it a listen!! I'm good with any genre but I need songs for smut, tears, and happy times, so feel free to drop any recs in the comments or my messages. Thanks, and I hope you have a good rest of your day/night ♡
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Chapter 16 : Madelyn Tuesday, November 29th, 2022
It's been three days living in this apartment now, and I'll admit, it's nicer than I thought it'd be.
I finally had real windows that opened, a much larger space to myself, and was running on my own schedule. I loved it.
Of course it wasn't ideal long term and having Lev as a neighbour was just about as pleasant as I'd predicted, but nothing was overly bad. I wasn't locked up or feeling trapped. I had freedom, and to begin it, I bought books and chocolate. Like a lot of both.
Over the past few days, I've managed to speak with my father, and Lev was right to say things were going to shit at the Keep. Never once, however, did he mention wanting me to come back, so I suppose that was a start. After I learned that, the realization dawned on me that I could use my credit card again, knowing it wasn't going to be used to yank me back into the Resistance.
During my time there I'd been paid a healthy amount for the small jobs I'd been allowed to be a part of, and now I was spoiling myself.
If I thought seeing Lev's reaction to my fake period was funny, seeing the heir to the Russian Mafia lugging around my books for me as I shopped was ten times better.
Now I have them all piled up on the very minimal kitchen counter space I have in here, at the very top resting my phone where I had a voicemail that has been twisting my mind since yesterday morning.
Today, I received a letter at my doorstep along with a large rectangular box that was currently being gripped in my hand.
Whoever dropped it off had been gone by the time I made my way over to the entrance, but I knew who it was from just by the arrangement of the items themselves.
The box in my hand was a sleek black colour, my initials M.A. inscribed in gold on the cardboard itself, telling me it had been custom made for me. In addition, the letter that came with it was small in size, but the second I opened it up, it made my eyes blink with irritation.
We missed you at dinner last night, Mads, but we really would love to see you this evening instead if you're up for it. We'll have a car ready for you at seven if you are.
