All Chapters of Claimed By Three: The Stalker, The Don and The Killer: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Alissia POVHer smile fades, eyes narrowing as she studies me. “Yeah, sure you are.” She laughs again, but there’s a hint of unease in her tone. “Wait... I thought this was all a fucking joke! No, Alissia, no. And no. You can’t go meet these weird people you don’t know!”“I’ll be protected,” I say, trying to sound confident, although deep down, I have no idea how I’m going to protect myself.“How?” she snaps. “By telling them you’re giving them a pseudonym in your book? Sure, they won’t kill you then, will they?” She waves her arms around, exasperated. “Oh my God, I’m going to have to tell the police I gave you the idea when they find your mutilated body in the desert!”I roll my eyes. “You’re being dramatic. I’ll figure it out, Jen. For instance, I won’t use my real name—I’ll use the name that I publish under.”Jenni’s eyes widen. “This is crazy! Do you even know how to find these people? What are you going to do? Post on Facebook, ‘Recruiting a stalker, murderer, and Mafia Don for r

Alissia POVI sit back, staring at the screen, the cursor blinking at me, daring me to close the tab. I can’t move. What if someone actually replies? What if this post is the beginning of something that gets me hurt—or worse?My gut twists again, and I feel the weight of my reckless decision settling in. But despite the fear, there’s an undeniable thrill that rushes through me. This is exactly what I need to stand out, to write the story that could finally get me noticed.No turning back now.I watch the screen, my heart pounding in my chest as pings start echoing through the silence of the apartment. Ping. Ping. Ping. Notifications flood in, comments stacking up faster than I expected. My stomach twists, and a part of me is terrified to read them.Something tells me ninety-nine percent of these replies will be full of mockery, sarcasm, or worse—threats. Still, if I don’t read through them, how will I know if anyone serious is out there?Sighing, I click to open the post.The replies

Demitri POVI pull out my burner phone, punch in her number from the file, and type a message.You want to shadow someone? Meet me tomorrow at 6 a.m. I’ll send the location. We’re practically neighbors, Alissia.I hit send, not entirely relaxing. This is going to be interesting.I send another message before she can respond.And delete that post before you end up in your own story.I lean back, waiting. A moment later, my phone vibrates.Who is this?I laugh under my breath. Bold.You don’t get to ask questions. Not until I know you’re not setting me up.Her reply comes almost instantly.So, I’m supposed to meet you without even knowing your name? You’re funny. It's fine, I know a hacker, I'm sure I can find out who you are.I smirk. She’s got some fire in her, I’ll give her that.Please go ahead, you can tell me all about how you failed when I see you tomorrow.Failed? Oh, you're sweet, you think I'm stupid, don't you?Didn’t your parents ever teach you it’s dangerous to talk to stra

Blake’s POVThe dark web is my playground, a hunting ground where I find the darkest, deepest secrets of my obsessions. It’s a place where anonymity rules, and I can hire just about anyone to dig up whatever I need on my next victim. The thrill of knowing every intimate detail about someone before they even realize they’re being watched—that’s where the power lies.My victims are chosen with precision. There’s no randomness to it, no impulsive picks. Most of the time, I don’t even need to touch them. The true thrill comes from the psychological torment. Watching them unravel, seeing the fear in their eyes when they notice the small, seemingly innocent changes in their home. That coffee cup moved slightly. The window that wasn’t open yesterday, but now is. The sense of being watched without proof—it’s better than any physical violence.My method is meticulous. Every victim must follow a strict routine. They need to work a standard schedule, so I have time to infiltrate their space with

Alissia POVI wake up early—five o’clock early. Who in their right mind wants to meet at 6 a.m.? Last night, Jenni told me it’s likely because it’s quiet—easier to kill me without people seeing or hearing. That lovely thought clings to me as I lie there, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I’ve completely lost it.Everything in my mind is screaming at me to stop. To shut this down, to not meet these people, to walk away. It’s insane, and any rational person would probably run. But I can’t. There’s this part of me, the part I admit is fucking stupid and not sane, that keeps whispering, Think of the book. Think of how popular it’ll be when people find out the truth behind it.I know it’s crazy. And yet, here I am.I drag myself out of bed and stand in front of my laptop, staring at it like it’s the enemy. Last night freaked me out. Someone hacked into my laptop—my laptop! So much for Jake ensuring it was secure. The supposed hacker-proof setup he swore by? Yeah, sure, Jake. It’s so sec