Until Death Gives In: He Was My Doom, and Still My Home

The daughter of the Winslow family and the mafia leader of the Yates Group were born as enemies, their families locked in a feud that spanned generations. And yet, somewhere in the clash of blades and pride, love took root.

On the day they first met, Lucien Yates should have killed Mira Winslow. Instead, he shifted the aim of his gun and spared her—saving the proud, untouchable daughter of the Winslow family before him.

She could have run after being saved. Instead, she chose to fall—straight into the depths of his gaze.

For three years, they lived together in secret. Mira was the only light in his endless night.

And for her, Lucien allowed himself a dangerous fantasy—a grand wedding in Silvera, where their love could finally break free from the chains of their families' hatred.

At the height of their love, she was willing to abandon her family name for him. And he was willing to stand against the entire underworld for her.

On his thirty-second birthday, Lucien saw it with his own eyes—Mira handing over a hundred-page document to the head of the Winslow family. Soon after, the Yates Group suffered a devastating blow.

The pain tore through him, drowning everything else. He couldn't believe that the woman who had shared his nights… had betrayed him.

Mira knew nothing. The moment she stepped outside, she was taken.

Iron chains clamped around her ankles. Seawater flooded her throat. The executioner let out a cold laugh. "This is Lucien's order."

Until her final breath, she believed it was the man she loved who had sentenced her to death.

......

Mira gently slipped out of Lucien's arms. She glanced back at him on the bed—his eyes half-lidded, dark hair spread across the pillow. The usual sharpness in his expression had softened, leaving behind something almost boyish.

It was his thirty-second birthday. And the third year of their secret life together.

Her fingers brushed absentmindedly over her ring finger. It was bare—but in her heart, she had already worn his ring.

"Heading to work?" Lucien asked, his voice rough as he opened his eyes.

Mira nodded. "When I get back, I'll make your birthday cake myself."

Lucien sat up and pulled her into his arms, resting his chin against the top of her head. His warm breath brushed her ear. "Alright. When you come back, we'll go to Silvera."

He kissed her forehead—so gentle it was hard to believe he was the same man feared across the Eastern Seaboard.

But the moment Mira disappeared into the elevator, the softness on Lucien's face vanished.

He made a call. "Stay on her."

Conrad Graves had been arrested the night before. Their arms depot had been raided—too precise, as if someone had tipped them off.

There was a traitor.

His thoughts dragged him back three years—to the night Mira had been cornered by a rival gang during an operation.

He shouldn't have saved her. She was a daughter of the Winslow family. He was the