All Chapters of Rise of the Rejected; Bred by the Mafia CEO: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

KhaidBluey was leaning into me softly. Holding my shirt as she opened her mouth wide for me. It felt as if a thousand fireworks got put out in my head. This feeling is unfamiliar. I do not kiss the bitches I sleep with. So, this capturing her mouth thing since yesterday was purely spontaneous and unprecedented. She has a soft and tiny pouty mouth that drives me insane. Like the last time, I felt my hardness again.Then, as if jolted into reality, I broke the kiss. I looked at her still- closed eyes. She was literally melting under my touch. I gently removed her grip from my shirt. Her eyes opened at that instant. She stared into my eyes as if searching for something precious. Then she lowered her gaze and started playing with the hem of her top. We sat apart, trying to catch our breath until Kael burst into the house holding a sealed paper. “I'm sorry for barging in. I didn't think you would be sitted here” Kael bowed in apology.“What is it?” I dismissed his apology while standing

BlueyThe first sensation that washed over was clear-headedness. I was light headed. I wanted to do my usual roll on my bed before standing up but my body was glued to the bed of rather a harder texture. When did my soft bouncy bed become this firm? My eyes were still shut. My brows furrowed. Then I opened my eyes gently and the sight that met me was angelic and surreal.I was resting my head on top of Khaid's who was fast asleep. His long eye lashes rested beautifully and his gaze was peaceful and restful unlike his blank daring gaze. I chuckled. What kind of dream is this that feels so real? Let me sleep back so I can wake up from this dream. I shut my eyes again. Tightly this time and then I opened it but Khaid's was still on the bed. I looked around and the cozy and spacious suite did not feel like my room. The sparkling leather chair. The bedside table. The paint colour. Even the curtains. This is not my room. I'm in the bedroom of Khaid Jager. “Arrrgghhhh” I shouted, scrambling

Khaid“Bluey is MetroPaul’s daughter” Kael divulged.I exhaled and relaxed on the couch. “What else?” I probed.“Her real name is Satera Bluey. She's an estranged daughter. Her mother was a mistress to MetroPaul. She's dead now. She died of lack of care from cervical cancer.” Kael stated knowledgeably.“I see” Khaid replied shortly.“You don't seem surprised, boss” Kael pointed out. Then his eyes glistened and widened in realization. “You've always known”I smirked and nodded. I know everything unless I do not want to pay attention to it.“I was expecting you to find something new” I pressed my mouth in a thin line.“I did find something new” Kael said and went ahead to fumble with the iPad in his palm.“Spill them”“She was disowned and thrown out of the MetroPaul Clan.” Kael asked.“I know but why?” I sat up. “It says that she stole an important artifact to sell and also stole her siblings dresses” Kael creased his brows as he read it out from the iPad. “This is vague. Why throw ou

I stormed out of the G-Wagon. Kael watched me, silent and tense, as I headed toward the West Wing. My gait was hard, determined—as if I were going to find Nepher Jager in the hallway and finally silence his venomous voice. Weak. Soft. Not fit for anything. His words echoed, a relentless, poisonous drone in my head. His voice was like a bane. I grew up hearing his voice in my head even when he's not around me. His judgemental stares. His cynical smiles. Everything about him to me was a sneer of mockery. Like I can never be like him. But that's the whole damn point. I don't want to be like him!I walked through the vast space and corridors and hallway and past the unlocked perimeters, driven by blind rage and instinct, and found myself standing directly in front of Bluey's room. I stopped, staring at the door. What am I doing? I stood there for a while, battling the inner turmoil. She was the last person I wanted to see me in this state yet here I am, standing in front of her door with

MTP Clan Mock Jungle…Jerry stood at the entrance of the Mock Jungle, feeling completely exposed and yet utterly thrilled. He looked like a groom waiting for his bride to walk down the aisle. He was clad in casual wear different from his usual style. He was bent on impressing Elvira.The Mock Jungle was a feat of MTP engineering. It was a vast, enclosed, and heavily reinforced training ground designed to simulate real-life forest warfare. The air was controlled to be humid and thick, complete with simulated insect sounds and the smell of damp earth and decaying leaves. It was crisscrossed with different hurdles–thick, tangled vines, reinforced ropes, slippery moss-covered logs, steep, uneven inclines and areas of deep, shadow-filled cover. It was a place designed to teach survival, not romance.He and Elvira were supposed to meet at 9 PM, but Jerry, consumed by anticipation, had been waiting since 8 PM, earnestly pacing the perimeter like a toddler awaiting Santa.Then, precisely at 9