This is the continuation of a gay love story between an angel and a demon.
Kristof thought he could escape. A new city, a new life, and the walls he built around his heart. But fate has a cruel sense of humor—because wherever he runs, Viktor finds him.
Viktor—violent, passionate, unstoppable. He calls Kristof his angel, his only salvation, and at the same time drives him into madness. For Kristof, every touch is both temptation and danger.
Their past is a battlefield, their present—a fragile truce. But desire never obeys reason. Secrets, betrayals, and the weight of family expectations push them closer and tear them apart.
Can an angel and a demon survive not only each other, but the world that refuses to let them be together?
Kristof – 24, Swedish, aikido-trained, now an advertising specialist at Blackburger.
Viktor – 28, ex-boxer and underground fighter, now head of a Blackburger branch in the Baltic province.
Warning: All names are fictitious. Any similarities with real life are accidental.
Warning: the book in genre gay love story contains 18+ content.
Chapter 1
“Don’t stick your finger in the lion’s mouth, huh, Kristof?”
“Don’t like it? I can move,” Jansson snorted without even opening those impossibly gorgeous blue eyes.
“No,” I stopped him. “No—stay. I like it.”
I let my hand rest on his sinewy legs, the same ones he’d just draped over my lap. Tonight is the night before our trip to Stockholm, the homeland of my impossible runaway. Before we leave, he actually condescended to spend the night at my place here in the province, instead of at the apartment we rent together. Stubborn, unbelievable guy. He just refuses to take me as I am. We’ve been together for three weeks now, and he’s still afraid I’ll start showing off my dominance and toying with him.
Ever since he confessed his feelings to me in the capital, things between us have changed. I wouldn’t say drastically, but at least now he doesn’t deny caring about me. I’ve only heard him say the words once, though I tell him every single day. I get it—Kristof is young, inexperienced, and he’s still carrying that “little gift” from his father as baggage.
It’s impossible to explain how much it thrills me when he comes to me like this on his own, seeking my touch. Twice as sweet when it happens here, in my home. I’m sick to death of living in a rented place. I’m not picky, but the truth is—I worked my whole life to be able to live in comfort with someone I love, and now, when I finally have the money and my runaway is right here, I can’t make him happy the way I want. I can’t be with him as much as I wish. Stubborn Kristof goes to work, refuses to come away with me on vacation, and gets mad when I try to arrange an unplanned day off.
Because outside our shared walls, he doesn’t want anyone to know we’re together. He’s embarrassed. I understand that, and I’m willing to respect it, but my runaway has far too many rules I have to keep pushing against.
And yet—he’s changing. In these three weeks, enough has happened to bring us closer, to force him to open up, to start trusting the fool that I am.
“What are you reading?” I asked, leaning back against the headboard with my hands behind my head, my gaze roaming his lean frame with undisguised pleasure.
After he’d run from me to the capital—and I couldn’t follow because I’d been stuck in the hospital for a full week—my Kristof had changed. It was like he’d aged a few years in days. He’d been training like a madman, pushing himself to the edge. The moment I was out from under anesthesia, I boarded a plane and flew after him. On my way, I called Igor to get the full story. About how Kristof had come back. About how this foolish angel had barely slept at all.
“I’ve never seen our Swedish athlete drink coffee by the liter. He’s practically sleepwalking. I’m starting to think—maybe he’s fallen in love, and it’s one-sided? Where else could he be disappearing to at night, so wiped out the next morning?”
My heart froze the moment I saw Kristof walk into the conference room during the meeting. He was almost unrecognizable—collected, serious, thinner, wound as tight as a bowstring. His walk was hard, deliberate. And yet his eyes—oh, his eyes—when they landed on me, flared with raw, savage hurt mixed with jealousy and anger. He really believed I’d been taking it easy back in the province. And he had truly, deeply worried about the idiot that is me when he saw the bandages on my body.
“What are you reading?” I asked my lover, letting my hand find its way back to his bare knee, my fingers making a slow, teasing path across it.
“White, get lost,” my runaway muttered lazily, swatting me away. “I’m not in the mood. We’ve got to get up early.”
“You came to me!”
“Buzz off, idiot! I’m working!”
Yeah, sure—he’s “working.” Says he doesn’t want me, yet he came over in nothing but boxers, legs draped across me. In a blink, I slipped free and swung myself on top of him. I yanked the cursed tablet out of his hands and tossed that toy aside.
“White, for f—”
“What?” I caught his fist mid-swing and pressed his hand down against the mattress.
I hovered over him, drinking in every one of his unique, ragged breaths, my lips almost brushing that slightly swollen upper lip—the one that had made me forget everything the first time we met. Back then, at our mutual friends’ villa.
“Nothing,” the Swede suddenly smiled at me openly, relaxing his arms.
“So you admit you were provoking me on purpose?” I couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.
“Well, I can’t let you have all the fun teasing me,” he smirked.
Those sky-blue eyes sparkled with mischief, making me completely forget whatever I’d planned to do a minute earlier. Responsibilities? What responsibilities could I possibly care about when he’s here?
“What, are you just going to stare at me? Or are you actually going to do something?” Kristof burst out laughing, pure happiness in his voice.
“Kristof,” I said, still leaning over my grinning angel. “Kristof…”
“What?” The Swede couldn’t stop laughing at first—until he saw something in my eyes that froze him in place. “Viktor, what’s going on?” His tone shifted instantly, my beautiful lover turning serious.
“Tell me you love me,” I demanded, my voice so rough I could barely force the words out. I was burning up—as always with him—but this time, what I wanted most was to know what was inside him. What he truly felt for me.
“Viktor, what’s wrong? Why are you asking me this all of a sudden?”
I didn’t answer, because I didn’t know myself why, at this very moment, I needed to hear it from him. As if…
No, I don’t believe in all that nonsense about premonitions, intuition, fate. Normally, I don’t. But not now. Right now, our upcoming trip to his homeland was gnawing at me. I didn’t want to go—but I hadn’t told him that. Somehow, I knew this damn trip would turn into a disaster for us. More than once, I’d been tempted to cancel our flight. But Kristof was so happy about it, talking about what he wanted to show me, how he wanted to introduce me to his friends, to his life.
And I was happy. God, I was beyond happy that he saw me as more than just a lover. That he wanted to share his world with me. Still, I couldn’t shake the need—the almost superstitious need—to hear him say how he felt about me. As if… as if his confession could somehow hold off the coming storm.
“Kristof, say it.”
“What is with you, you lunatic?” My angel shoved his palms against my chest, urging me to get off him, but I didn’t move.
Instead, I leaned in closer, pulling him into me, resting my head against his neatly defined shoulder.
“Tell me you love me,” I whispered.
Kristof hesitated for a few seconds more, clearly stunned by my sudden demand.
“Viktor, you’re being ridiculous,” my runaway said quietly. “But… if it’s that important to you—okay, fine… I love you.”
I found his lips and claimed them with a hunger so fierce it felt like someone was trying to tear him away from me—trying to take him forever, and I’d never see him again.
“White! What are you—?!”
Kristof still tried to push me off, but I was beyond reason. Without asking, I shifted him beneath me, guiding him where I wanted him.
“White, you idiot, get off—!”
I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. My hands were on him, stripping away the last barrier between us, pulling him closer until there was nothing in the world but the heat of his body against mine. My palm found proof of his growing need, and no matter what he said or how he twisted away, I knew—he always lost control when I touched him. Whether I was gentle or demanding like now, I always knew exactly how much he wanted it.
I drew him back against me, holding him firmly, grinding against him with an urgency I couldn’t hold back, my hand working him until we were both trembling on the edge.
“Vic… Viktor…” my runaway rasped in the arms of the fool who adored him.
Yes. I would give anything for him to stay by my side. I would do anything for him. And I would. In these few weeks, I had completely lost my mind over him, because I had come to know this maddening, beautiful, noble angel in ways no one ever had.
“Viktor…” he growled, twisting in my grasp, drowning in pleasure.
I bent toward him, my lips brushing the flawless skin of his back.
“Vik… Viktor,” my gorgeous Swede gasped, shuddering with each movement, “Viktor… I… I…”
“What? What, Kristof?!” I roared, refusing to let him fall over the edge until I heard the words.
“Viktor… I…” His voice was as hoarse as mine, “…I love you!!!” The last word came out as a growl—because right then, I let him break.
He shattered in my arms. Yielded to me. Let himself be consumed by my love.
God, I love him. Breathing hard, I held him tight, not letting him collapse onto the bed in his exhaustion. I love him, and if I have to, I’ll destroy anyone who even thinks of tearing us apart.
Chapter 2
Lennart Jansson was planning to celebrate his forty-ninth birthday in August. He had just returned from an unpleasant trip to the city where his ex-wife lived. A few days before his son and his companion were due to arrive, Lennart headed back home—to his spacious apartment overlooking Humlegården Park.
The apartment was truly enormous — an inheritance from his grandmother Garda. Over two thousand square meters of real estate, occupying the entire top floor of a six-story historic building. Once the property officially became his, Lennart’s first order of business was a complete renovation. He threw out all the antique furniture and replaced it with new, practical pieces — something more masculine. Something that suited two men.
Now the place had white walls, large windows, and sharp, straight lines in the décor, accented by simple dark furniture. Black and gray dominated the palette. No pink pillows or other feminine nonsense.
Grandmother Garda had been a wealthy woman who, for many years, had clung stubbornly to life — fraying the nerves of her small family along the way. Yet when she finally left this world, she was generous, leaving Lennart not only the property in the very heart of the city, but also an impressive sum in his bank account — money he had once managed to invest quite successfully.
Now, playing the stock market had become his main occupation. The rest of his days were spent meeting friends, attending intellectual evenings with his close friend Lukas, and making one failed attempt after another to find a woman who could make him forget the forbidden thoughts he had toward men.
Stubborn as ever, Lennart still dated women from time to time — even lived with them occasionally — but it was always a struggle. Every time he found himself in bed with a woman, he had to resort to certain medications to force his body into desire and fulfill the role expected of him.
He often dreamed that one day he would meet the right woman — someone with whom he could make love naturally, without having to push himself into it. He hated that part of himself, that dark side of his nature, and had always tried to keep it far away from his son. But, as he had recently discovered, he had failed.
“I knew it! Right away!” he shouted over the phone to his friend Lukas that very day, calling straight from the capital. “The moment I saw those photos! Christof’s a naïve, inexperienced boy! Only twenty-four, he’s just finished college! And now he’s fallen into the clutches of some wealthy pervert!”
“Lennart, calm down,” said Lukas, ever the voice of reason.
Their friendship went back many years. Lukas Berg couldn’t even remember exactly how many — more than twenty, he was sure. Their lives had many parallels: like Lennart, Lukas lived off inherited wealth, though his inheritance had come not from a grandmother but from his late, elderly lover.
He and Lennart had first met at a men’s club, when Berg was looking for company for the evening. At first there had been some attraction between them, but spiritually they connected far more deeply. Berg had long since grown tired of trying to convince the stubborn Jansson that it was pointless to keep forcing himself to love women if fate had clearly decided otherwise.
If only Lennart could accept himself for who he was, they could have been a perfect couple. At least, that’s what Berg believed. And unlike himself, Lennart was a strikingly handsome man — not tall, but lean and well-built, a true aristocrat.
His son had surpassed him in beauty — by far — but had inherited his father’s bearing and those stunning blue eyes. The only difference was that the elder Jansson had never been into sports, while Christof, almost obsessively, devoted himself to it — sometimes pushing his body far beyond the limits.
Uncle Lukas understood Kristof. Lennart had long since gone off the rails where his son was concerned. On the one hand, he couldn’t accept that his boy was dating a man. On the other, he was wildly jealous of his fair-haired angel—of every lamppost, really. And the one who usually caught the backlash was that innocent angel. There was a time when Lukas himself had called the police—anonymously, of course. He knew perfectly well that if he didn’t stop his friend, Lennart wouldn’t spare his own son, and things could end far worse than a handful of bruises.
“How do you know?”
“How do I know?!” Lennart screeched. “Kristof—my boy—brought that perverted brute to his mother’s place and announced they’re in a relationship!”
“And what did your ex say?”
“Nothing! Absolutely nothing! You think she cares? For twenty-four years she hasn’t cared where he is or what’s happening to him—”
“Twenty-one,” Berg corrected him. “You took him when the kid was three.”
“Details! They don’t matter!” the elder Jansson flared. “Was she there while he was growing up? Fighting his problems? His wild streak? That was me! I went through it, not her! What does she even know—or think?!”
“Okay, okay, Lennart. I get it. So what are you planning to do now?”
“What? I’m going to… I’ll do whatever it takes to get my son back!” Kristof’s father burst out. “Though—” he caught himself, calmer—“it won’t be easy. That brute—White, as he introduced himself—has got a death grip on Kristof.”
“Maybe, Lennart… maybe this White actually loves Kristof. Maybe the boys shouldn’t—”
“I couldn’t care less what he feels! Everyone is smitten with my son—don’t you remember how many I had to chase off? I almost pulled him out for homeschooling!”
“Lennart, don’t bite my head off. I’m starting to think you actually like Kristof’s friend,” Berg tried to steer it into a joke—and only made it worse.
“Shut your mouth, Berg! He is not setting foot anywhere near our family! I’ll think of something… I’ll do whatever it takes to drive him away from my son—from my Kristof!”
“All right, all right, darling, just don’t shout like that. Do you have a plan?”
“I do… I have one plan… I’ll set it in motion, and you’re going to help me!”
“Oh God, Lennart, are you sure this is something you should do?” Lukas sighed, pained, already sensing he’d be the one to “adjust” the plan. When it came to Kristof, Lennart tended to act with a special mix of cunning and cruelty. The boy would end up with new problems. All they could hope was that the hulking White wasn’t actually in love with their little angel—and would back off quickly, without a fuss.
“It has to be done! And don’t try to talk me out of it! The sooner the better—before he completely ruins my son!”
Several weeks passed after that conversation—after countless attempts to talk Kristof into coming to his senses. At every admonition he either changed the subject or hung up. In the end, they had to make peace and invite them to Stockholm. Both of them. As much as it infuriated Lennart, he saw no other way. Kristof was stubborn, through and through—his father’s son. Once he set his mind on something, he wouldn’t budge.
No matter. He thinks White loves him—ha. Lennart would prove otherwise. The rich man just wanted to play. In that case, he’d hand Viktor another toy, and he’d lock his own son at home and not let him out again. Enough—he’d roamed the world on his own long enough.
Chapter 3
“White, what the hell is wrong with you? Have you completely lost it?”
After that half-crazed boxer lunged at me, I never actually managed to break free from his arms. Not that I was fighting him all that hard—I just couldn’t wrap my head around why Victor had suddenly gone off the rails like this. What scared me most was how much his state reminded me of the one he’d been in right before that damned accident a few weeks ago.
“Victor, knock it off already!” I shoved him away and got off the bed, scanning the floor for my boxers. “What nonsense have you come up with this time?” I muttered irritably, not even looking at the idiot still sprawled on the bed. Big mistake.
Because White was on me in an instant, pinning me to the wall with his body.
“Say we’ll move into this apartment the moment we’re back from Stockholm!” His voice was a harsh growl in my ear, sending a wave of unpleasant chills down my spine.
I jerked against him, but he had me in an unbreakable hold.
“I already told you,” I growled back, “it’s not happening! We had a deal!”
“No! No, Kristof, we did not have a deal! You gave me that condition so I could prove to you that you’re not just some game to me. Haven’t I proved it?! Kristof. Answer me!”
“What’s gotten into you, you idiot?” I tried to break free again, but it was useless.
White was bigger than me, still keeping up his boxing training. These past weeks he’d been pounding that damn punching bag every day, as if his biceps alone were supposed to impress me. Not that he needed more muscle—he was already plenty built. Ever since we’d started living together, it was like he’d lost his mind. He never let me out of his sight. And the closer we got to leaving for Stockholm, the worse it got.
I won’t deny it—I like having him around. That one week we were apart, when I couldn’t even sleep without him, when I spent every single hour torturing myself with thoughts that we were over—that week burned itself into my memory. I have no desire to repeat it.
“Kristof, promise me,” my roommate demanded darkly.
“I said no!” I snapped back, my own tone sharpening now, because this tanned brute and his damn impulsiveness were triggering a very different kind of reaction in me. He was still completely naked, and I hadn’t managed to get dressed either. My boxers were now back on the floor, and the crazy owner of “Blackburger” was pressing himself against me from behind with that body he’d been sculpting just for me. And I’d long since stopped denying how much I liked that body…
“In that case, I’m not going to Sweden,” the moron muttered, pressing his forehead stubbornly to the back of my head, his hot breath searing my skin.
“Is this really that important to you? What difference would it make, Victor? Why are you acting like this?!”
“Kristof. It would change everything,” he said quietly, and I didn’t like the heavy tone that crept into his voice again. “You’d stop being afraid of me. You’d let me love you. You’d let me all the way into your life. You’d accept me as I am. I’ve told you a thousand times—I am not guilty of the lies your father made up. I had a hard life. I fought to become someone, so that… so that the person I loved could be proud of me, could share everything I’d achieved with me. But you… you keep throwing in my face the man I became! Even though not once—not once since you’ve been with me—have I ever given you a reason to doubt me. Not in my actions, not even in a look.”
“Oh yeah? Seriously, White?! And what about your assistant manager, Andrei?”
“Andrei who?” Victor’s surprise sounded almost too genuine.
“The gorgeous blond. Assistant manager of your own restaurant! Don’t play dumb and don’t pretend. You remember him perfectly well.”
I could feel his cocky grin without even looking at him.
“Kristof… wait a second—are you jealous of me?”
The crazy millionaire finally loosened his grip, giving me the chance to turn around.
“Shut up, White! Really found something to laugh about,” I muttered, feeling the heat rising in me.
“You are jealous, Kristof?” His eyes were shining with such unfiltered joy that it only made me even more irritated.
“Get lost! I’m going to bed!”
“No, you’re not!” Before I could react—still lost in my own thoughts about jealousy—the idiot bent down, swept me up over his massive shoulder, and literally hauled me to the bed.
“You moron! What the hell are you doing?!”
“Planning to love you,” White laughed, glowing with sudden triumph as he tossed me onto the bed and straddled me. “I was trying to get one thing out of you, and you went and gave me something even better. My God, Kristof, I didn’t even dare to hope for this!”
“You’re an idiot,” I grumbled out of habit, though I was secretly relieved by the sharp shift in his mood.
This version of him? Definitely more my style.
“I’m still pissed, you know. You could at least try to explain yourself.”
“Not a chance!” Victor flashed me a grin full of teeth. “Finally, it’s you who’s going to be a little on edge for once.”
The owner of “Blackburger” leaned down to my ear and whispered hotly:
“Tell me—what is it that makes you madder? The way I looked at him? Or…”
You can buy this book in the gay romance or gay love story genre using these links (attention content 18+)
This is the second book in the gay romance genre or gay love story about Christoph and Victor. In the second part, the plot develops. Christoph’s father is against his son’s relationship with a wealthy man. Especially Lennart is against gay love. Many readers and viewers expressed sympathy for Christoph. After all, in our time, parents must respect the choice of their children, even if this choice turned towards gay love. The author herself seemed to have felt this problem. Indeed, the attitude towards gay love in families still remains ambiguous. I wonder what the development of the relationship between Victor and Christoph will lead to. After all, Victor has long been in the gay love theme, and for Christoph, this is the first relationship.
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