Prologue
PROLOGUE —
The sound of expensive heels clicking against the marble floor was the only warning they needed.
The heavy double doors of the grand ballroom swung open, and the atmosphere inside shifted instantly. The music seemed to fade into the background, the laughter died down, and every head turned towards the entrance as if pulled by an invisible force.
She had arrived.
Sunshine Gomez.
The name was whispered around the room, mixed with awe, fear, and undeniable attraction. But if Sunshine heard them, she didn’t show it. She walked with a stride that commanded attention, her back straight, her chin held high, looking every bit the multi-millionaire CEO that she was.
She was wearing a sleek, blood-red gown that clung to her curves like a second skin, slit high up on her thigh, revealing legs that went on for miles. Her hair was styled in a sophisticated updo, leaving her long, elegant neck exposed, and her makeup was sharp, flawless, and cold.
But it was her eyes that froze everyone.
They were sharp, calculating, and completely devoid of warmth. They scanned the room with obvious boredom, as if assessing whether the people inside were worth her time or not.
Spoiler alert: Most of them weren’t.
“Fucking finally,” she muttered under her breath, adjusting the strap of her diamond-encrusted clutch. “I thought I’d die sitting in that traffic just to get here.”
She didn’t care about the stares. She was used to it. Men looked at her with hunger, women looked at her with envy, but Sunshine Gomez didn’t give a single fuck about any of them. She was here for one reason and one reason only.
Her best friend.
Freya.
She navigated through the crowd of elites, socialites, and businessmen like a shark swimming in water. People automatically parted ways to let her pass, too intimidated to even say hello. She ignored them all, her red lips pressed into a thin, unimpressed line.
“Move,” she said coldly to a guy who accidentally stepped on her train. She didn’t even look at him. “You’re blocking my view, trash.”
The guy paled and immediately scurried away.
Sunshine just rolled her eyes. “Fucking idiots. Can’t even walk properly.”
She finally reached the center of the hall where the birthday celebrant was holding court.
Freya Binogradov was standing there, looking absolutely stunning and voluptuous in her emerald green dress, laughing loudly at something her husband had whispered. She was every bit the powerful woman, the owner of FREYA COLLECTION, and the Queen of the Binogradov clan.
When Freya saw Sunshine, her face lit up like a Christmas tree.
“OH MY FUCKING GOD!!!”
Freya pushed past everyone and ran—or as ran as much as one can run in heels—and practically tackled Sunshine into a hug.
“YOU BITCH!!! YOU ACTUALLY CAME!!!” Freya screamed, squeezing her tight. “I thought you’d prioritize your stupid company over my birthday again!!!”
Sunshine smirked, the first real expression she showed all night, and hugged her back tightly, patting her friend’s back.
“Shut the fuck up, whore. Of course I’d come. Someone has to make sure you don’t embarrass yourself tonight. And besides… I missed your ugly face,” she teased, pulling back to look at her friend. “Happy birthday, Freya. You look… less fat than usual. Good job.”
“FUCK YOU!!!” Freya laughed, slapping her arm playfully. “You look fucking hot yourself, bitch! That dress? It costs more than my car! And those legs? Damn girl, are you trying to seduce everyone here?”
“I don’t need to try,” Sunshine said arrogantly, taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter with one hand and lighting a cigarette with the other. “They already want me. I’m just here to enjoy the free drinks.”
“That’s my girl!” Freya beamed, linking her arm through Sunshine’s. “Come on! Let me introduce you to everyone. And don’t be too mean today, okay? It’s my party.”
“I’ll try,” Sunshine shrugged, taking a long drag from her cigarette and blowing the smoke upwards, watching it dissipate into the chandeliers. “But if someone annoys me, I’m not responsible for what comes out of my mouth.”
She looked around the room again, her eyes scanning the luxury, the people, the noise.
It was loud.
It was crowded.
It was… boring.
“Come on bitch! Let’s go! I want you to meet my family properly!” Freya squealed, dragging Sunshine by the arm through the crowd like an excited child.
“Fuck off Freya! Slow down! My heels are expensive and I am not in the mood to run!” Sunshine complained, but she let herself be pulled anyway, taking a lazy sip of her champagne while eyeing everyone around her like they were potential targets.
They stopped in front of a group of people standing near the large floor-to-ceiling windows. The air around them felt different. Heavier. More dangerous. These were the Binogradovs.
“Aleks! Baby! Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence!” Freya shouted, releasing Sunshine and immediately clinging to the arm of the man standing tallest among them.
ALEKSNDER BINOGRADOV.
He looked up, his silver hair gleaming under the chandeliers, his grey eyes cold and sharp as knives. He was wearing a pristine black suit, and his forearms—visible as he held his glass—were covered in intricate, dark tattoos. He looked like a God, but a God who enjoyed killing.
When his eyes landed on Sunshine, they scanned her quickly, unimpressed and dismissive.
“Sunshine,” Aleksnder nodded once, his voice deep and monotone. “You look… less annoying than usual. Good.”
Sunshine smirked, not even slightly intimidated. “And you look like you haven’t slept in days. Must be hard fucking your wife every night, old man.”
Freya burst out laughing, slapping Aleksnder’s chest. “Hear that baby?! She got you! I told you she’s savage!”
Aleksnder just glared, but there was no real heat behind it. “Watch your mouth, woman. Or I’ll make you shut up.”
“Try me,” Sunshine challenged back with a smirk.
“Alright alright, break it up you two,” another voice chimed in, lazy and playful. “You’re scaring the guests.”
They turned to look at the other man.
RYKER BINOGRADOV.
Oh wow.
He was leaning against the wall, looking effortlessly hot and dangerous. Black messy hair, piercing grey eyes, and his neck and arms were covered in tattoos and piercings. He had an earring dangling from his ear and a smirk that screamed ‘I fuck everything that moves’.
“Well well well,” Ryker whistled lowly, looking Sunshine up and down with obvious appreciation. “If it isn’t the Ice Queen herself. Damn, Sunshine. You look good enough to eat. Are you sure you’re not here to seduce me away from my wife?”
Sunshine just rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. “Don’t flatter yourself, Ryker. You look like a walking tattoo parlor and your breath probably smells like cheap beer. I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.”
Ryker laughed loudly, not offended at all. In fact, he seemed to like it. “Feisty. I like her. She’s just like Freya. Crazy.”
“Shut up and introduce me to your wife already,” Sunshine scoffed. “I know you have one. Where is she?”
“Right here, baby.”
Ryker moved aside, and there she was.
WINTER.
Oh.
Sunshine blinked.
She was wearing a soft, white dress that made her look like an angel. Her hair was long and flowing, her eyes big, round, and innocent. She looked so pure, so soft, and so fragile… like a delicate flower that would break if you touched her too hard.
She smiled shyly at Sunshine, bowing her head slightly.
“H-hello. I’m Winter. Nice to meet you,” she said softly, her voice sweet and gentle.
Sunshine froze.
She looked at Winter. Then she looked at Ryker. Then back at Winter.
“Wait,” Sunshine said, pointing a finger at them, looking genuinely confused. “You mean to tell me… this scary, dirty-minded, tattooed beast… is married to you?”
Winter giggled softly, nodding. “Yes. I am his wife.”
“Fucking hell,” Sunshine muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. “What the actual fuck is this world? You look like you haven’t said a single curse word in your entire life! And you married him?! He probably talks dirty to you every second!”
Winter blushed bright red, hiding her face behind her hands. “H-he does… b-but it’s okay… I like it…”
“OH MY GOD!” Sunshine screamed, covering her ears. “I DON’T NEED TO HEAR THAT! TOO MUCH INFORMATION! STOP!”
Everyone laughed. Even Aleksnder cracked a small smile.
“See Sunshine?” Freya grinned, wrapping an arm around Winter. “Winter is the sweetest, most innocent person ever. She is our little angel. Unlike us who are just full of demons.”
“You can say that again,” Sunshine muttered, still staring at Winter in awe. “She is so cute though. I want to protect her from all of you perverts.”
“Aww thank you,” Winter smiled sweetly, walking over and holding Sunshine’s hand surprisingly tightly. “You are very beautiful too, Ms. Sunshine. And I like your style. You look very strong.”
Sunshine felt her cold heart melt just a tiny bit. “…Tch. Whatever. Just don’t come near me crying later when your husband treats you rough. I won’t comfort you.”
“I won’t!” Winter beamed.
“Alright,” Ryker wrapped his arm around Winter’s waist possessively, pulling her close to his side. “Enough talking to my wife, Sunshine. She is taken. And besides… someone has been staring at you for the past five minutes looking like he wants to murder you or fuck you. I can’t tell which.”
“Hah?” Sunshine raised an eyebrow, looking around. “Who? Who dares stare at me?”
“Our cousin,” Aleksnder said suddenly, his voice dropping an octave. “The pain in the ass I dragged here against his will.”
“Oh?” Sunshine crossed her arms over her chest, feeling the challenge in the air. “Another Binogradov? Great. Just what I need. Another arrogant Russian prick to ruin my night.”
“You’ll see,” Freya smirked, looking towards the dark corner of the room. “He is different from us, Sunshine. He doesn’t use force. He uses words. And trust me… his words are more dangerous than any gun.”
Sunshine followed their gazes towards the shadows.
And there… Standing partially hidden by the darkness, holding a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other…
Was a man looking straight back at her.
And for the first time that night…
Sunshine Gomez felt something strange stir in her chest.
It wasn’t fear.
It wasn’t attraction.
It was pure, unadulterated irritation.
“Who the fuck is that?” she muttered under her breath.
Sunshine’s voice was cold, cutting through the air like a blade. She didn’t blink. She didn’t look away. She just stared at the man emerging from the shadows, her eyes narrowing into slits of pure judgment.
He started walking towards them.
Slowly.
Lazily.
Like a predator stalking its prey.
MIDNIGHT BINOGRADOV.
He looked nothing like his cousins. Where Ryker was wild and Aleksnder was cold, Midnight was… elegant darkness.
He was wearing a tailored black suit that fit his broad frame perfectly, the shirt unbuttoned just enough at the collar to reveal a sliver of pale skin and the edge of an intricate tattoo crawling up his neck. His hair was raven black, slicked back with a few strands falling artfully over his forehead, and his eyes…
Gods, his eyes were dark.
Deep.
Bottomless.
And they were locked onto her with intense amusement and boredom.
He took a slow drag from his cigar, blew the smoke upwards towards the ceiling, and finally stopped right in front of their group.
“You called?”
His voice was low, husky, and heavily laced with that thick Russian accent. It sounded smooth as silk but dangerous as poison.
He didn’t even look at Aleksnder or Freya first. His eyes were solely focused on Sunshine. He looked her up and down slowly, deliberately, taking in every inch of her red dress, her legs, her face… like he was assessing her value.
And then… he smirked.
A lazy, arrogant, infuriating smirk that made Sunshine’s blood boil instantly.
“So this is the famous Sunshine Gomez,” Midnight drawled, turning his head slightly to ask Aleksnder, but his eyes never left hers. “She looks like trouble. Or maybe… she just looks like she has a stick up her ass. Which one is it, cousin?”
The group went silent.
Freya covered her mouth to suppress a laugh.
Ryker whistled.
Winter just blinked innocently.
Sunshine felt her eye twitch.
Did he just…?
She straightened her back, lifting her chin even higher, looking at him with absolute disgust written all over her face.
“And you must be the clown they hired to entertain the guests,” she shot back instantly, her voice dripping with sarcasm and venom. “Because you look like a failed experiment. What are you? A rejected rockstar trying to play mafia? Or just another Russian trash who thinks he’s important?”
Midnight’s smirk widened.
He wasn’t offended.
Far from it.
He looked… delighted.
Like she had just given him the best gift ever.
“Trash?” he repeated, taking a step closer, invading her personal space without any shame. He was tall, towering over her, but Sunshine didn’t back away. She stood her ground, glaring up at him. “Wow. Harsh words for a pretty little face. Usually, women throw themselves at me. You are the first one to greet me with such… creativity.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Sunshine scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest to emphasize her point. “You are not impressive. You look like you haven’t showered in days and you smell like smoke and cheap cologne. Get a hobby, asshole. And get out of my face.”
“Oh, I have hobbies,” Midnight leaned down slightly, bringing his face level to hers, his dark eyes boring into hers. The smell of expensive whiskey and tobacco wafted towards her, intoxicating and annoying at the same time. “One of them is figuring out difficult puzzles. And you… little sunshine… you look like a very difficult puzzle.”
“Don’t you dare call me that,” she warned, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “I am not your little anything. And I am not a puzzle. I am the boss. And you… you are just an eyesore.”
“Eyesore?” Midnight chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating in his chest. “Is that why you are staring at my lips? Because I am an eyesore?”
“I AM STARING AT THEM WONDERING HOW MUCH DIRT IS INSIDE YOUR MOUTH!” she snapped back.
“Plenty,” he winked. “Want to find out?”
“FUCK OFF!”
“Make me.”
The tension between them was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
They were standing inches apart, glaring at each other, two powerful forces clashing.
He was arrogant, witty, and enjoyed provoking her.
She was cold, savage, and enjoyed destroying egos.
“Alright alright, break it up you two,” Freya intervened finally, grinning widely. “Sunshine, meet Midnight Binogradov. The cousin I told you about. The one who loves to annoy people. Midnight, meet Sunshine. My best friend. The one who will rip your balls off if you piss her off.”
“Charming,” Midnight said without looking away from Sunshine. “I like her already. She has fire. Too bad it’s wasted on being cold.”
“And I hate him already,” Sunshine gritted through her teeth, pointing a finger at his chest. “He has an attitude problem. And I hate men with attitude problems.”
“Good,” Midnight grabbed her finger mid-air, wrapping his large hand around it easily, not hurting her but holding her captive. “Because hate is just another form of interest, little sunshine. And trust me… I am very interested now.”
He squeezed her finger gently… then let go.
And then he had the audacity to bring his glass to his lips, take a sip, and wink at her.
“Enjoy the party. Try not to kill anyone. Or do. I don’t care. It’s fun to watch.”
And with that…
He turned around and walked away, swaying his hips confidently, leaving Sunshine standing there seething in anger, her heart pounding strangely fast, and her mind filled with only one thought.
“I FUCKING HATE HIM. I HATE HIM SO MUCH I WANT TO KILL HIM. WHY IS HE STILL ALIVE?!”
