LOGINOn the night of her mating ceremony, Aria is publicly rejected by her fated Alpha, Kael Nightshade. Humiliated and broken, she dies with hatred in her heart. She wakes up three years earlier. This time, she is no longer the weak orphan. She is the hidden daughter of Dominic Vale — the most feared mafia don and billionaire. With future knowledge and a powerful bloodline, Aria returns with only one goal: destroy everyone who betrayed her. But when she crosses paths with Kael again, the mate bond still burns. Only now, she holds the power. And the Alpha who once threw her away will learn what it means to beg. A story of rejection, rebirth, revenge, and a dangerous new love.
View MoreThey left the print-shop rooms while the sky was still a hard, pre-morning dark. Lucien went first down the rear stair, checked the alley in both directions, and only then motioned Aria forward. The air outside was cold enough to bite. Distant warehouse lights hummed. Somewhere a delivery truck reverse-beeped and then fell silent. No immediate sign of the black unmarked vehicles from the night before. That did not mean the net was gone. It only meant it had not closed on this particular street yet. They moved on foot through a lattice of service lanes and shuttered loading courts. Lucien kept them off the wider roads, using the kind of paths people used when they did not want their names attached to cameras. Aria matched his timing, breath steady, senses stretched for any break in the ordinary night noise. After twenty minutes he stopped under the overhang of a closed textile warehouse and spoke without looking at her. “The contact uses a marker system. If the old sign is still
The print-shop rooms held the night without comfort. One narrow bed. One table. Two chairs that did not match. A sink that produced water in a thin, metallic stream. Lucien checked the alley window twice more before he allowed himself to sit. Aria remained standing, listening to the building settle around them and to the distant city sounds that no longer belonged to Dominic’s controlled dark. They were free of the walls. Freedom, she was learning again, had a temperature. It was colder than containment. Lucien spoke first. “Dominic will treat this as a retrieval, not a negotiation. His people will flood the near districts before dawn. Serena will hear of the breach within hours if she has not already. Kael will not be far behind any rumor that puts you outside Vale protection.” Aria rested her hands on the back of the nearer chair. “And the person who killed the prisoner?” “May decide open ground makes you easier to reach… or easier to erase.” Lucien’s eyes were steady. “We d
The alarm rose behind them like a held note finally released. Lucien did not run in a straight line. He cut across the darker stretches of the inner grounds, keeping to the shadow of hedges and service walls where the estate lights did not fully reach. Aria matched his pace, breath controlled, the blade a familiar weight against her leg. Shouts carried from the direction of the main house. Radio static. The sound of doors and boots. “They will seal the main gates first,” Lucien said under his breath. “Secondary exits next. We have the maintenance boundary on the east side if the patrol reset is still lagging.” Aria did not waste breath on agreement. She simply followed. The grounds that had looked ordered and contained from upper windows became something else at ground level in the dark — longer distances, uneven stone, the smell of wet earth and clipped hedges. Twice they stopped hard against a wall while a patrol swept past with lights. Once a dog barked from a distant kennel a
Aria did not turn on the lamp. She sat in the dark and tracked time by the faint sounds beyond the dual lock — the shift of weight, the low exchange of voices, the metallic check of a weapon strap being adjusted. Dominic’s house ran on patterns. Patterns could be used against the people who trusted them. Lucien had asked her to be ready at the next change of guard. He had not told her what readiness required. She decided for herself. Dark clothes. Soft shoes. The blade strapped where her hand could find it without thought. The comb she left on the desk. If she did not come back, someone would still know she had once been a person with a history small enough to fit in a drawer. The corridor went briefly quieter. Shift change. Aria moved to the door and waited with her palm lightly against the wood. A soft double tap answered from the other side — not the rhythm of the guards, not Silas, not Dominic. Lucien’s signal. The dual lock disengaged with a controlled series of clicks






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