Leah's POV
Liam stared. "What the hell are you?"
I wiped my hands on his jacket. "Hungry."
He laughed then, wild and unhinged. "You're crazy."
"Crazy enough to fix your problems. If you obey."
"Obey?" He raised an eyebrow. "That's kinky."
I stared at him. "You want to save your grandmother? Stop playing gangster. You're a joke."
His smile died. "Yeah? And what's your deal? Some kinda runaway mob wife?"
"Like you can't even imagine." I released him.
Silence.
He rubbed his neck. "Fine. What's the plan, boss?"
I glanced at the photo. The old woman's eyes glared back, unyielding. "First, we get some money."
"From where?"
-
Vinny's nightclub reminded me of Sheridan Club. It was a cacophony of neon lights and pounding bass, the kind of place where secrets were buried under the weight of too much noise and too many bodies.
I walked in with Liam trailing behind me, his face still bruised
Leah's POVThe supermarket fluorescents buzzed like angry hornets. I trailed Liam past pyramids of canned beans, his boots squeaking against linoleum. He moved like a feral cat—all coiled tension and sideways glances. The discount rack called to him like a siren."Jackpot," he muttered, scooping armfuls of spaghetti boxes into the cart. The packaging screamed ITALIANA AUTENTICA! in Comic Sans. I snorted. Authentic as his leather jacket's "genuine pleather" tag."Grandma's got expensive taste in hospice care, huh?" I nudged a box with my elbow. The noodles rattled like dried bones. "Why not buy her real food now that you're rolling in mobster cash?"He didn't look up. "Nonna'd skin me alive if I wasted good dollars on truffle oil when Barilla's ninety cents." The cart shuddered as he dumped another box. "Besides, spaghetti's her love language. Ate it every Thursday with Papa Enzo before the cirrhosis got him."I let my claws retract just enoug
Leah's POVLiam's bitter laugh could've curdled milk. "Tried that shit. Dockyards wanted truckers with clean sheets - mine's dirtier than a motel porno magazine. Dealership garage? Turned out to be ex-cons crew running protection rackets." He leaned across the red vinyl booth, eyes dark as burned coffee. "I'm no saint, but I don't peddle drugs to kids. I used to keep my pride, trust me, I really did... till Nana's med bills hit." His throat worked like he'd swallowed glass. "Pride's just dead weight when your world's sinking, feel me?""But the girls, man..." I trailed off, the words sticking like a bee."Wake up!" His fist hit the table, silverware jumping. "You think this shit disappears 'cause it skeeves you out? My girls eat regularly. Don't get beat black-and-blue like some dollar-store pimps allow." His finger stabbed the air between us. "Without me? They'd be turning tricks in back alleys on Monday, end up as another Jane Doe in a dumpster by Tuesday. Tha
Leah's POVBig mistake.Darryl's touch ignited a white-hot rage. The beast surged, teeth sharpening beneath my gums - rip, rend, feast - but Liam's voice cut through the haze."Don't." He met my gaze, blood trickling from his split lip. "Just don't."I let my shoulders slump, the perfect picture of helplessness. Darryl released me with a sneer."Smart boy," he said to Liam. "Now strip."What followed was a symphony of humiliation. They made him bare his thighs, his hips, the pale map of old scars. Jeers echoed - "Fitting you ended up a whore" - but Liam's face stayed eerily blank. When the first punch landed, he curled into himself, silent.I memorized each blow.Rib crack. Nose crunch. Knuckle split on tooth.Darryl would die slow. They all would.By the time they left him bleeding in the gutter, my gloves were shredded from clawing my own palms. I hauled him upright, his weight warm and too-human against me.
Leah's POVBrad’s blood smelled like rust and regret. It pooled beneath my boots, seeping into the cracks of the warehouse floorboards as I circled him. The ropes binding him to the chair creaked - not from his struggling anymore, but from the tremors running through his body. Fear had a way of making even meaty men like him brittle."You're wasting my time," I said, dragging the tip of a fish knife along the edge of a frozen cod. The screech split the air like a promise. "Twenty years. Twenty yearsyou let that rot fester. And now you think shaky denials will save you?"He jerked his chin up, sweat gluing his collar to his throat. "I know who you are... You're the girl who was with Liam earlier this morning...""That's not an answer to my question." I backhanded him. The crack of my hand against his cheekbone echoed louder than his whimper. A tooth skittered across the floor. Clink, clink, clink. Music to my ear.I cro
Leah's POVThe afternoon sun hung low, casting long shadows that stretched like fingers across the cracked pavement. I followed Liam into his house, the air inside stale and heavy with the scent of old cigarettes and desperation. He collapsed onto the sofa, his body sinking into the worn cushions as if the weight of the world had finally crushed him. Within moments, his breathing evened out, and he was asleep.I knelt beside him, my eyes tracing the lines of his face - lines that were usually etched with worry but now smoothed into something almost childlike. For a fleeting moment, he wasn‘t the man burdened by debt, loss, and the scars of a life that had never been kind. He was just Liam, the boy who should've been. My fingers brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, lingering longer than they should have. The sharp trill of his phone shattered the silence. I snatched it up before the noise could wake him."Hello?"A woman's voice,
Lycidas' POVThe desert heat clung to my suit like a second skin, the Bentley's leather seats hissing as I shifted my weight. I'd chosen this human contraption precisely because it reeked of their fragility - polished steel and squeaking hydraulics, a coffin on wheels waiting to crumple under a werewolf's fist. My boots dented the steering wheel as I stared at the prison's rusted gates. Pathetic. They built their cages above ground here, as if shame needed sunlight to thrive.A lizard skittered across the asphalt, its panicked heartbeat thrumming through the haze. It froze when my shadow fell across its path, beady eyes widening before it bolted toward the prison walls. Even vermin recognized true predation. I smiled, fangs pressing against my lower lip, as the gates groaned open.The figure that emerged made my blood hum.He moved like fractured glass - all sharp edges and dangerous fragility. The prison shirt hung loose on his frame, but I saw the muscl
Lycidas' POVThe sunset hung heavy outside my window, its crimson glow bleeding through the curtains, casting jagged shadows across the room. I'd dragged the man back to my lair, his wrists still bound tight with the coarse rope. The stairs creaked under my boots as I hauled him up, his useless squirming only stoking the fire in my gut. I flung him onto the bed, the frame groaning under his weight, and watched him thrash like a trapped animal, his voice grating against my ears."Let me go!" he barked, his words sharp and desperate, clawing at the air. "I must go see my pro officer today! Otherwise..."I loomed over him, my shadow swallowing his form, and let a smirk curl my lips. "Otherwise, will they throw you in jail again?" My voice rumbled low, a predator's taunt, and I savored the way his eyes flickered with panic, even as he tried to hide it."Let me go!" he snapped, his tone brittle, cracking under the strain. He twisted against the ropes, his scar
Lycidas' POV"Get up," I said, jerking my head toward the headboard. Finn scrambled to his feet, awkward and unsteady, and I watched him climb onto the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, and I followed, letting the chain drag behind me like a hound on a leash. I grabbed his wrist, hard enough to bruise, and looped the cold metal around it. The clank of it locking into place sent a shiver through him, and I felt it under my fingers. Good. Let him shake."You think you're sorry?" I asked, leaning close so my breath grazed his ear. "You think that little apology downstairs means anything?" I yanked the chain tight, pinning his arm above his head, and he gasped, his lips parting in a way that made my blood hum. "You don't get to decide when you're forgiven, you fucking slut.""Yes, Sir," he whispered, his voice small, broken. His eyes stayed on me, pleading, but I didn't care for pleas. I cared for power, and he gave it to me every time he bent.I sat
Leah's POVThe air down there was damp, thick with the musk of captivity. Darren was curled on a filthy mattress, his wrists and ankles chained, his body a knot of tension. The clink of my tray against the stone floor roused him, and his eyes snapped open - wild, burning with a madness that made my chest ache. He lunged, a beast in human skin, all teeth and fury, but the chains yanked him back, the iron biting into his flesh. A guttural snarl tore from his throat, and his face twisted, feral, unrecognizable.I slid the tray toward him, the pancakes still warm, their sweetness a mockery in this place. He froze, nostrils flaring, then dropped to his knees, his face hovering over the plate. He ate like a starved dog, tearing at the food, growling low, the sound vibrating through the stone. I sat a few feet away, watching him, my heart splintering. I wanted to reach for him, to smooth the matted hair from his face, to touch the man he used to be. My hand lifted, trembling,
Leah's POVLycidas peeled off his gloves slow, deliberate, a smile curling his lips like blood seeping from a wound. "Leah, my sweetest sister, you know me. I'd never hurt anyone. They just keep crawling back, begging to be my dog.”There it was - the Old King's dominance and viciousness, alive in him, a shadow Lucian never cast. "From childhood to adulthood," I said, my voice hard as iron, "I always knew you were more his son than Lucian ever was. Pity the Old King never saw it. Not until he was rotting in the ground. Lucian was all he had in his shriveled heart."Lycidas' smile stiffened, a crack of fury splintering through his mask. "Darren disappointed me," he said, "so I tossed him to Leo for his little experiments. But Leo didn't like this human being. He said he didn't meet his standard and sent him back. You wanna know what happened to your precious old flame? Go sniff out Leo. You two always got on better than you and me. I mean, he'll help you, I
Leah's POVA pang ripped through my chest, sharp and unwelcome. I didn't want to know what Lycidas had done - didn't want to picture the claws, the needles, the hunger in that bastard's gaze. Darren wasn't the man I'd known anymore; he was a husk, cracked open and spilling fear. My fingers found the lock, bending the steel like it was clay, the cage door groaning as it gave way. He lunged at me, wild and blind, and I struck fast - knocked him cold with a blow that felt like betrayal. His body slumped, limp and heavy, and I hauled him into the cart, draping a cloth over him like a shroud.I shoved the cart toward the door, every nerve screaming, when a shadow blocked my path. The hotel manager, all puffed-up indignation, glared down at me. "What the fuck? Who are you?! Why are you here? Don't you know this whole floor is reserved...?"His words choked off as my fist met his jaw. He crumpled, a sack of meat, and I dragged him back inside, stuffing him into the cag
Lycidas' POVA pause, heavy with his worry. "Lycidas, don't let anyone hurt her. Protect her. The ritual has to be done."Finn's pace quickened, his throat tightening around me, and I gripped his hair harder, forcing him to take more. "Don't worry, brother. I miss you. I'll be back soon. Put Jalin on, will you?"The line shifted, and Jalin's cold "What?" slithered through.My voice turned razor-sharp. "If you dare touch my brother again, I'll pump you full of suppressant, make you a fuck toy, and toss you to the slave market. Every hole in your body will be stuffed with cocks for the every minute in the rest of your fucking life. Do you understand?"Silence. Finn gagged, his throat spasming, and the pleasure spiked through me. "I'm talking to you," I snarled into the phone."I understand, Your Highness," Jalin muttered, subdued at last. I hung up, tossing the phone aside, and turned my full attention to Finn. He sucked harder, desperate to p
Lycidas' POVThe lazy afternoon sunlight in Miami pressed against me like a lover's claw, the moon long gone but its bloody echo still staining the sky. I stepped out of the limousine, and the red carpet unfurled before me like a tongue, wet with the flash of cameras and the screams of the crowd. The hotel loomed, a glittering beast of glass and steel, its jaws wide with fans clawing at the barriers, their voices a feral hymn to my name. I was Lycidas, the Lycan Prince, a Hollywood god carved from hunger and shadow, and they worshipped me with every ragged breath.I strode forward, my boots sinking into the plush scarlet, and the air thickened with their adoration. The paparazzi swarmed, lenses glinting like predatory eyes, but I owned them all. My lips curled into a smile, sharp and deliberate, as I waved - a king acknowledging his court. The noise swelled, a tidal wave of sound, and then a voice cut through it, high and desperate."Lycidas! Lycidas!" A female
Leah's POVThe clock on my wrist ticked like a smug little bastard, each second a jab at my nerves as I stood there, plotting culinary carnage. Six hours until the Miami Mayor's Annual Seafood Charity Dinner, and I was about to turn a fancy gala into a symphony of gurgles and groans. The TV blared in the background, some chipper anchor rattling on about celebrity cars rolling up to the hotel—shiny Bentleys and Teslas, all ferrying the rich and famous to their doom. I smirked, imagining them clutching their pearls and their stomachs by night's end.I glanced over at Seth, who was practically hypnotized by Sharbo's lazy laps in the shark tank. The kid's mop of hair flopped over his eyes, and he looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here, plotting with me. I gave his shoulder a solid pat, jolting him back to reality. "It's time, Seth."He blinked at me, all wide-eyed and twitchy, then fumbled for his laptop like it was his security blanket. His fingers danc
Leah's POVThe moonlight was pouring down from the sky like cascade.I stood there, rooted, facing Darren, his eyes blazing with a storm of rage and grief that pinned me where I stood. The air hung heavy, thick with unspoken venom, prickling my scarred skin—the brands of the slave market I'd never outrun."Why are you asking this question?" Darren's voice cut through the stillness, sharp as a blade, edged with accusation.I didn't answer. Couldn't. My throat clenched tight, strangling the words beneath the weight of all we'd left unsaid.He stepped closer, his emotions bursting free like blood from a fresh wound. "Are you asking this to hurt me, Leah? Haven't I done enough for you all these years to earn your trust?"Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and relentless, carving trails through the grime on my face. I felt nothing - no sting, no release - just the hollow rush of them falling, a betrayal of the numbness gnawing my bones.
Leah's POVI remained silent. Father killed his son. Justice was almost done.Al Cosa continued, "And my son Tommy... He was burned alive in an elevator. Forensic team said his charred, deformed body burned so badly that... they needed tweezers to collect him."Two fat tears carved paths through his ashen stubble. I mirrored his grief - shoulders curling inward, breath catching - as the incinerator roared to life behind him. Its hunger vibrated in my molars."They found nail marks," he whispered. "Inside the elevator door. My boy...my Tommy clawed iron hot metal until his fingers..." A wet choke. "You know what fire does to lungs before death comes?"I let my own eyes glisten. "Mr. Cosa, I...""You're about to find out."I pretended to be horrified. "Mr. Cosa, I'm...""Sorry?" The wheelchair lurched forward. "You shoved my Tony off a balcony! Trapped Tommy in that metal coffin!" Spittle hit my cheek. "And now you're standing he
Leah's POVThe neon sign above the night club buzzed like a dying wasp, its crimson glow pooling on the asphalt as I shoved through the club's sticky doors. Smoke clung to the air—cheap cigars and cheaper desperation - and there he was, slumped at the bar like a discarded marionette. Liam's fingers curled around a whiskey glass, his knuckles whitening with each swallow as if he could drown the words we'd never said.I slid onto the stool beside him, the leather sighing under my weight. "You look like someone pissed in your bourbon," I said, nodding at the bartender for my usual gin.Liam didn't turn. "Would've improved the taste." His voice was sandpaper rough, but the corner of his mouth twitched. Classic Liam - even half-drunk and brooding, he couldn't resist the bait.We drank in silence for three songs, the bass thumping like a defective heartbeat. When he finally spoke, it was to the smudged mirror behind the bar. "You shouldn't be here. You do