All Chapters of The Mafia’s Reject: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

VANESSA’S POVMy body ached, but it was a different kind of ache. The kind that sat beneath the skin, pulsing, twisting, almost alive.I blinked against the dim light in the unfamiliar room, my breathing shallow. The last thing I remembered was blacking out after trying to make my way to the door, my body too weak from all the blood they had drained from me. But now… now I felt *different.* Stronger. Aware. Too aware. I sat up slowly, expecting the usual dizziness, but it never came. Instead, everything around me sharpened. The distant ticking of a clock echoed in my ears like a drumbeat. The scent of fresh rain drifted in through the open window, so strong it almost overwhelmed me. And then— Alaric. I felt him before I saw him. A dark, consuming presence that called to something inside me. The bond. The mark. Whatever he had done to me—it had changed something. I gritted my teeth, my fingers instinctively reaching for my neck, tracing the spot where he had sunk his teeth into

The auction was nothing like I’d ever seen before. The kind of thing only people in Alaric’s world could experience—a world where power and money collided like thunder and lightning, lighting up the dark sky with intensity and raw energy. Alaric had recently started taking me places ,today it was this auction.As we entered the venue, the heavy, velvet curtains parted to reveal a stunning hall—crystal chandeliers hanging like stars above, casting their soft light on the sea of wealthy, powerful individuals gathered in front of the stage. The floor beneath our feet was polished marble, and the walls were adorned with priceless art—pieces of history. There were whispers in the air, low and hushed, from the well-dressed elite who sipped champagne, eyes darting from one to the other.I felt all their gazes fall on us as Alaric’s presence dominated the room. He wasn’t just a man in this world; he was a force—a legend. Every person in the room either feared him or respected him, and there w

The man knelt in the center of the room, his face battered and streaked with blood. His shirt was torn, stained with sweat and fear. Behind him stood two of Alaric’s men, their grips firm, unyielding. And then there was Alaric. He stood before them, every inch the cold, untouchable king. His suit was immaculate, his presence suffocating. In his hands, he toyed with a sleek dagger, twirling it between his fingers like an afterthought. He didn’t speak immediately, letting the silence stretch unbearably thick. “so you think you can steal from me? ” Alaric’s voice was a death sentence, quiet but unwavering. The man trembled, his breathing ragged. “I-I swear, I didn’t take the money! I was framed, I-” The crack of Alaric’s palm against the man’s face echoed through the room. I flinched. The force of the slap sent the man’s head snapping to the side, blood trailing from his split lip. “I didn’t ask for excuses,” Alaric said, his tone calm, terrifying. “I asked if you knew why you

"he thinks he can order me around," I scoffed in my room. He was a devil and I wasn't going to stand for this bullshit. I was angry with him and myself for still being here for not trying hard enough to escape. How could I have given up so easily . With the way my body kept betraying me in front of him I couldn't stay ...if I did I don't know were this would lead. I didn't want to know...no ways.I packed a small bag,that way it would be easy for me to get away. I slippee through the door ,luckily Alaric had stopped stationing guards outside my door- I guess he also figured I wouldn't rum. I rolled my eyes .I barely made it past the grand foyer when a firm hand clamped around my wrist.My breath hitched as I was yanked back, spun around until I was face-to-face with the last person I wanted to see right now.Alaric.His dark eyes burned into mine, sharp with amusement but lined with something much more dangerous. He didn’t look angry—no, that would’ve been easier to deal with. Inste

The first thing I noticed was warmth. A heavy, enveloping heat pressing against me, surrounding me. My mind swam between the haze of sleep and wakefulness, and for a moment, I didn’t recognize where I was. The bed was too soft, the scent in the air too rich—cologne, leather, and something distinctly masculine. I stirred slightly, and that was when I realized why I felt trapped. An arm—strong, unyielding—was wrapped around my waist, keeping me anchored against a hard chest. I blinked, my body stiffening as awareness sank in. Alaric. My pulse spiked, my breathing shallow as last night’s events came rushing back. I had fallen asleep, exhausted from everything—physically, mentally, emotionally. And now… now I was in his bed. With him. Panic flared through me, my body tensing instinctively. I moved the slightest bit, but the moment I did, his grip tightened. A low, rumbling sound—something almost primal—vibrated from his chest, a warning. I froze. He wasn’t awake. At least, I