All Chapters of My Boyfriend Is An Alpha Werewolf Mafia Boss: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Weeks had passed since Tasha's graduation, but Rupert never apologized for missing it. Not a message. Not a word. Tasha told herself she was too busy with wedding prep to care, but sometimes, when she lay awake at night, it throbbed like a bruise she didn't want to press.Now, the wedding was just a day away.The house was a blur of lace samples, seating charts, and phone calls. Her mother had taken over the kitchen with trays of mini rum cakes, and her aunt had turned the living room into a makeshift floral workshop. Tasha moved through it all like someone on autopilot. She smiled when she needed to, nodded when asked questions. But her mind was elsewhere.That night, she settled into her bedroom, which was next to Debby's. She couldn't believe she was getting married tomorrow. She picked up her phone and sent Rupert a text: Baby, I can't wait to say I do. I wish we were sleeping in the same bed tonight, but Mummy says the bride and groom not to see each other before the wedding.She

Sunlight broke over the hills and the tension inside the small church on the corner of Old Hope Road was louder than the cicadas outside. The bride's dressing room looked like a whirlwind had swept through it, half-drunk champagne glasses, makeup scattered across the vanity, hairpins poking from every surface, and five women talking over each other in a blur of patois and frantic excitement. Tasha sat still in the middle of it all, like the eye of a storm. Her wedding dress was nothing short of a dream, a sleeveless satin ball gown with a plunging neckline and pearl detailing across the bodice. It shimmered every time she moved. A long, lace-trimmed veil trailed behind her like a whisper of royalty. But the bride didn't smile. Not really. She was exhausted, cranky, and running on nothing but caffeine and nerves after tossing and turning all night. Her mother, Edith, fluttered nervously around her, fussing with the tiny clasp on a delicate silver necklace. "This was your grandmo

The antiseptic sting of the hospital hallway filled Chris's nose as he paced outside the emergency room at the University Hospital of the West Indies. His shirt was still speckled with Tasha's blood, and his fists clenched every few minutes just to stop them from shaking.Debby was stable. That much the doctor had confirmed. She only had a mild concussion, a bruised rib, and a nasty bump on her forehead from where Rupert had smashed her into the wall, but he was just thankful to the Moon Goddess that she was alive. She was talking like her old self again. Swearing, even. That gave Chris a flicker of relief in an otherwise hellish day.But Tasha...Tasha hadn't opened her eyes.He'd stood by the stretcher as they wheeled her in, her face swollen and bloodied. There was so much blood he thought she was gone until the faintest, rasping breath slipped from her.That was hours ago.Now, Chris sat in a hard plastic chair outside the intensive care wing. He had his elbows on his knees. Ever

The private jet touched down at Teterboro Airport just after dusk. A steady drizzle streaked across the tarmac, misting the sleek black SUV that waited on the runway. The airport staff moved with silent efficiency, ushering Debby and a still-weak Tasha from the plane into the vehicle. Miss Tania and Chris climbed in last, looking behind them, always watching, always ready.The drive was long and quiet, interrupted only by the sound of tires on wet pavement and the occasional sniffle from Debby, who hadn't said much since they boarded. Tasha rested against the window, her eyes half-lidded. Her bruises were still fresh, but the exhaustion clung to her like a second skin. She hadn't spoken a full sentence since leaving Kingston."You okay back there?" Chris asked, glancing at them in the rearview mirror.Debby nodded. "Just tired."Tasha gave a faint hum. She wasn't okay, but she wasn't sure she ever would be.They turned onto a narrow, gravel lane lined with towering oaks. At the end sa

The Holt estate had a way of making silence feel like scripture.Mornings in horse country came veiled in dew and birdsong. The kind of hush that made you feel either comforted or exposed, depending on what you carried inside. Tasha stood on the back porch, bundled in the oversized cardigan Tania had draped over her shoulders last night. She watched the mist drift across the fields like breath from the earth itself. Everything here smelled too clean. The damp soil, hay, and the honeysuckle. No hint of the salt and exhaust she was used to.Debby was still asleep upstairs. She was enjoying the move better than Tasha.Tasha hated how much that mattered. This was her family’s place. Her blood, yet she felt out of place.She rubbed at the faded lines on her wrist, her skin was still tender. Three days into her stay, and she still felt like she was borrowing someone else's life. Silk sheets, fresh towels, tea that came in tiny glass kettles. Even her reflection in the gilt-framed mirror did