A Night Like No Other

(Samuel's POV – The Queen in My Arms)

As we lay together, her body curled up against mine, I felt something unfamiliar.

Peace.

It was strange—after everything, after three lifetimes of war, betrayal, and chaos—I never expected to find myself here.

In a luxurious Moscow penthouse.

Holding Roselle Vasilyev.

The Lord of Darkness. The Queen of the Mafia.

And yet, in this moment, she wasn't any of those things.

She was just Roselle.

A woman who had marked me as hers—in more ways than one.

Her soft breaths tickled my skin, her bare body pressed against me, completely unguarded.

I had seen her at her strongest.

I had fought her at her deadliest.

But this?

This was different.

Her fingers traced absentminded patterns across my chest, and then, in a sleepy voice, she murmured—

"About Project Hades…"

I didn't let her finish.

I lifted a hand and pressed my fingers against her lips.

"Let's just enjoy this, Roselle."

Her amethyst eyes blinked up at me, surprise flickering across her face.

"Sleep. Let's stay like this a little longer."

She stared at me for a moment, then sighed softly, her body relaxing against mine.

Her arms tightened around me, as if silently declaring—I'm not letting you go.

I smirked, closing my eyes.

"Heh. You really are something else, Roselle."

But deep down, she knew—

So was I.

And no matter what happened next—

This was a night neither of us would ever forget.

A Battle of Words

(Samuel's POV – The Queen Never Bows)

As the morning light filtered through the curtains, I slowly opened my eyes, only to find a familiar pair of amethyst orbs staring right at me.

Roselle Vasilyev—the Queen of the Mafia—watching me like a predator studying its prey.

I grinned.

"Well, looks like I won again last night."

She smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Consider yourself lucky," she said, running a teasing finger down my chest. "You're just too good in bed. And since you made Samuel's original body so damn perfect, I must say..."

She leaned in, her breath warm against my skin.

"I should eat you more often."

I chuckled. "Really now?"

Before she could respond, I grabbed her waist and pulled her into a deep, possessive kiss—one that left her momentarily breathless.

As our lips parted, I looked into her eyes and whispered—

"You also took Roselle Vasilyev's body for yourself, my Queen."

I traced my fingers down her spine, making her shiver.

"But honestly, these authors don't have any sense when writing tragic stories."

She raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh? And what would you do differently, Samuel?"

I smirked, my hands firmly gripping her hips.

"Simple. I'd rewrite the ending."

Roselle let out a dark, sultry laugh. "Then let's make sure this story is worth telling."

Roselle's playful smirk faded as she sat up, the morning light casting a soft glow on her bare shoulders. Her amethyst eyes darkened, her tone serious as she spoke.

"Samuel, about Project Hades… Me and Nocturne—" she hesitated for a moment, as if choosing her words carefully. "I know we tried to create Nightcreatures, but there are things that were hidden from us."

I frowned. Hidden?

Of all people, who in the world would dare keep secrets from the Lord of Despair and the Queen of Darkness?

I sat up, resting my elbow on the bed, my gaze locked onto hers.

"Wait a second… are you telling me someone actually had the guts to hide something from you two?"

Roselle's expression darkened. "Not just someone, Samuel. There's an entire layer of this project we never had access to."

A chill ran down my spine.

Project Hades was already dangerous enough—

But now, it seemed we weren't the only ones pulling the strings.

Roselle looked at me, her expression unreadable, before finally speaking.

"Samuel, there's more to Project Hades than we originally thought. Nocturne and I believed we were in control, but someone else was always one step ahead."

Her fingers traced the sheets absentmindedly as she continued. "There's an unknown force—something or someone—who manipulated the entire process from the shadows. We thought we were creating Nightcreatures, but…" she paused, her gaze locking onto mine, "we were just pawns in a bigger game."

I narrowed my eyes. "And let me guess… You want to find out who's behind it?"

She smirked, but there was no amusement in her eyes this time. "Not just find out, Samuel. I want to burn them to the ground."

I smirked as I pulled her closer, my fingers tracing lazy patterns along her bare skin. Leaning in, I whispered, "For sharing such valuable information, don't you think you deserve a reward, my queen? Tell me…" I paused, letting my breath ghost over her lips, "should I give it to you in the bathroom… or on the balcony?"

I watched as her eyes darkened with desire, and I leaned in even closer, my voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "The Mafia Queen… getting taken in broad daylight? Do you want it where the risk is higher, Roselle? On the balcony, where anyone might see?"

I smirked as I felt her body react to my words. "So, what will it be?"

Roselle's POV

This bastard and his damn seductive look. But there's no way I'm letting my dignity waver.

Keeping my composure, I pulled out my phone and dialed my assistant. "Tyler, make sure no one disturbs me today. And clear the entire balcony—no people, not even a single bird."

A moment later, his efficient response came through. "Understood, Madam."

I smirked, satisfied. "Good." I ended the call just as Samuel's lips found my neck, his kisses leaving a trail of heat against my skin.

Why, out of all people, is he the one I can't get enough of?

I met his teasing gaze with a smirk of my own. "Balcony it is," I purred, trailing my fingers down his chest. "And you better make it worth my while."

Samuel chuckled against my skin, his lips trailing fire along my neck. "Tsk, tsk… You really went all out, huh? Clearing an entire hotel balcony just for this?" His breath was warm against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

I smirked, tilting my head to the side as I ran my fingers through his hair. "Of course. If I'm going to do something this reckless, I want it to be perfect." My voice was laced with both confidence and anticipation.

His hands slid down my waist, gripping me possessively as he whispered, "Then I'll make sure you won't regret it, my queen."

Damn this man. With every word, every touch, he made me crave him more. There was no denying it anymore—he was mine, and I was never letting him go.