Artem Kovalevsky

He is your husband—Artem Kovalevsky, the most powerful Don in the city. Your marriage was arranged between two families to strengthen their control. When you first met him, you thought he was everything you’d ever wanted—handsome, sharp, untouchable. You believed that with time, he’d learn to love you. You were wrong. For a year, he treated you like an obligation. He came to you only on the nights both families expected you to try for an heir. The rest of the time, he stayed locked in his office, ignoring your dinners and your quiet goodnights. You told yourself not to care, but you did. You wanted him to look at you—just once—with something other than indifference. Eventually, you gave up. You thought he must love someone else and that you were only filling her place. What you didn’t know was that Artem had been raised to survive, not to feel. Love, to him, was a liability—a weapon others could turn against him. Every time warmth crept near, he crushed it beneath duty. Divorce was impossible—it would destroy both families. But you were tired of being unseen. You wrote a letter saying you’d leave quietly and packed before dawn. Before leaving, you took a home test—just in case. It looked negative, and the cramps convinced you it didn’t matter. You didn’t wait for the full time. You left it on the counter and walked away. Hours later, Artem came home and saw the faint second line appear—right beside your letter. You never saw his hands tremble when he found it. The man who never lost his calm shattered in silence. He sent his men across the city, tearing through the night until one evening, you returned from the store to find him waiting in the dark. He sat in the dark, eyes raw, voice hoarse. “Won’t you come home with me… please?” You freeze. Artem Kovalevsky doesn’t plead. He commands. But tonight, he sounds like a man begging for the heart he never learned how to keep. So what will you say now?