LOGIN“You saved my life. Name your price.” “Take responsibility for me.” Asaraiah Montova is the invisible daughter of a brutal mafia bloodline. Born from her father's affair, she survives abuse, cruelty, and betrayal in silence. Her only sanctuary? A shed hidden deep in their estate, until she finds a bloodied stranger inside. Malrik Kaine is the name whispered in fear. A vampire and the ruthless mafia boss of the Kaine Syndicate. Cursed. Untouchable. Dangerous. When she saves his life, he owes her a favor. She demands the unthinkable: marriage. What starts as a desperate bargain spirals into an obsession between a girl with nothing to lose and a man who has lost everything. What if the shed wasn’t the first time they met? What happens when she finds out she has died by his hands more than once? And when her past collides with his curse, neither blood nor death will be enough to stop them. Dare to follow her into the darkness. Because once the blood debt is owed, there is no escape. Step into the shadows of the syndicate. Here, debts aren’t forgiven—they’re collected... in blood. “In the mafia, blood isn’t thicker than water—it’s the price you pay for power.”
View MoreThe air inside smells like old wood and earth and something faintly metallic—blood soaked so deep into memory it never really left.Moonlight filters through the cracks in the walls, striping the floor in pale silver. This is where Zenaida died. Where I died. Where the curse anchored itself because pain makes a good foundation.I walk to the center of the room.The power rises—not wild, not angry. Focused. Intent.“This is where you stabbed me,” I say.Malrik swallows. “I know.”“This is where I begged you to stop.”His voice breaks when he answers. “I remember.”I close my eyes.The memories surface fully now—not just images, but understanding. The curse wasn’t born from betrayal. It was born from fear. From a man choosing control over loss. From a woman choosing love even as she died.I open my eyes and turn to him.“It ends because I let it,” I say. “Not because you deserve forgiveness. Not because I’m stronger than it. But because I refuse to let my life be a punishment for yours.
ASARAIAH KAINE The city is quieter than it should be. Not peaceful. Not calm. Just… emptied. Like something important has already left and the buildings haven’t realized it yet. Malrik drives without speaking. No convoy. No guards. Just us and the road stretching ahead, wet asphalt reflecting the streetlights in broken gold lines. His hands stay steady on the wheel, but I can hear his heart anyway—slow, controlled, wrong for someone who claims not to fear death. He knows where we’re going. He just doesn’t know what I’ll do when we get there. The power inside me has stopped surging. That’s the strangest part. No burning veins. No red haze. It’s settled—heavy, patient, like it finally trusts me to make the decision instead of forcing it. “You don’t have to do this,” he says at last. His voice isn’t commanding. It isn’t sharp. It’s quiet. Almost human. “I do,” I answer. “If I don’t, it never ends.” He glances at me, jaw tight. “You think this ends things?” “I think it ends th
The first thing Asa felt when she woke was heat.Not the gentle kind. Not warmth. This was pressure building beneath skin and bone, coiling tight like something bracing to strike. Her pulse thudded heavy and slow, each beat echoing too loudly in her ears.She lay still, staring at the ceiling of the safehouse bedroom. The cracks in the plaster looked deeper than they had the night before, spidering outward like they were trying to escape the center.That wasn’t possible.She knew that.And yet—Asa swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood. The floor was cold. Grounding. She let the sensation anchor her while she inhaled carefully, deliberately, the way Gaya had taught her.Control first. Power second.The mirror across the room caught her reflection. For a split second, it lagged—her eyes darkening a fraction too late, the faint ruby glow flickering and dying.She clenched her jaw.“Not today,” she murmured.The city was already awake when she stepped onto the balcony. Sirens
-THIRD PERSON- The city didn’t know it was holding its breath. Asaraiah felt it the moment she stepped outside. Not a sound—nothing so obvious—but a tightening, like steel cables being drawn through concrete and bone. The wards Drayan had layered around the safehouse peeled back one by one as she crossed the threshold, recognizing her and recoiling at the same time. Even magic, it seemed, was undecided about whether to protect her or fear her. The street was empty. Too empty. Dawn had not yet reached the buildings, but the hour usually belonged to delivery trucks and early commuters. Today, there was nothing but wet asphalt and the low hum of distant power lines. Drayan followed a step behind her. He didn’t ask her to slow down. He had learned better. “You’re certain they’ll feel this,” he said. “I’m certain they already do.” She didn’t cloak herself completely. That was the point. She let the edges of herself leak—just enough pressure, just enough distortion. Cameras along t












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