I took a Bratva bullet.
Got their princess pregnant.
Now my dead brother wants us both six feet under.
I broke the code—touched my best friends sister.
Broke her heart—left her behind with my baby.
Broke myself—became the monster I swore Id never be
Six months in Russian hell turned me into Shakal. The Jackal.
The one who laughs while bones snap.
The one who kills for the Bratva crest on his chest.
My dying best friend made me swear: Protect Vanya.
Blood oath sealed in his last breath.
Now she owns my nights.
And I own the secret shes hiding.
She thinks I chose loyalty over love.
Doesn’t know I survived every prison beating for her.
That I’ve killed for less than the taste of her skin.
Then my dead twin rises with Moroccan killers at his back.
Betrayal runs deeper than blood.
And the woman carrying my child becomes the target.
They want me to choose—the Bratva or her.
But I already made my decision.
If I lose her, this empire burns.
Problem is dead brothers dont forgive.
And the bosss niece was never meant to carry bastard heirs.
