The Cleaner & The Princess

Ivan

The first time I ever laid eyes on her she was fifteen to my thirty-five. Yeah, I know what you're thinking, I'm a dirty old man.
That may be the case, however talking with her, she was well beyond her years.

So what if she didn't talk, not because she couldn't, but because she had been trained not to.

I knew all about being trained. Since I was six years old, my heart had been turned to stone, hidden behind a fortress of the strongest metal. However, that metal didn't factor into its one weakness.

What were three years compared to thirty-five years of living without her? Piece of cake, right?

Caristiona

I met the man of my dreams at just fifteen years old.

Never would I have imagined that he would be the one I would trust to speak to without my go-to writing as my only form of communication.

Ivan Svanokov was, by all intents and purposes, other than the men of Wrath MC, the best human being I had ever met.

Everyone says that he's nothing but a stone-cold killer. That his heart no longer beats.

But if there's one thing I know? It's that his heart beats a rhythm that only I can hear.

Then everything changed on the day I turned eighteen. When he told me I had managed to get under his skin and into a place where no living-breathing person has ever managed to be, it was the best day of my life.

Until it wasn't...

Mild Sex Scenes. HEA. No Cliffhanger. Can be read as a standalone.