Lahat ng Kabanata ng My Alpha is a Lunatic: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

The cab peeled away from the curb like I was carrying a plague. I watched the taillights vanish into the dusk, a slow, cold smile spreading across my face. Skyline Drive. The address of my childhood, now just the scene of the crime.The Vance estate loomed at the end of a manicured drive, a monument to cold wealth. Even from the gates, I could hear the laughter. Bright, carefree, and utterly grotesque. The clock in my head was a merciless tick-tock. In the real world, they’d only sent me to die a few hours ago. They were already celebrating.I bypassed the gate’s security with a thought, a flicker of that innate, un-System power that felt like flexing a forgotten muscle. The heavy iron swung open without a sound.I was halfway to the sprawling modern mansion when a figure hurried from a side door. The housekeeper, Martha. Her eyes widened, recognition dawning with a slow, dreadful horror.“Miss Kiera? What… what are you doing here?”“It’s my house, Martha.” My voice was light, convers

The heavy bassline of the club pulsed through the floor, a physical thrum against my ribs. William Thorne—no, he’d insisted on just William—led me through a side door, past a velvet rope and a bouncer who gave a deferential nod. The noise from the main floor faded, replaced by the hushed, expensive silence of a private corridor.“This is my family’s place,” William said, running a hand through his hair with a slightly awkward grin. “Our conversation isn’t for public ears. This is… appropriate, I swear. No ulterior motives.”He looked at me, his expression all practiced, boyish sincerity. The eyes of a privileged heir who’d never had to lie convincingly. I knew his type. But I also remembered the Artifact he’d tossed me in the Instance—that single-use shield that had bought me a critical second. That was the only reason my feet didn’t pivot back toward the exit.I followed him into a room that was more lounge than private booth. Low lighting, deep leather couches, a scent of sandalwood

The ferry engine growled to life, churning the water into froth. Jenna’s hand was a vise around my wrist as she dragged me into a sprint, screaming at the clerk. “Wait! We’re here!”A passenger on deck, a man with a runner’s build and watchful eyes, called out. “Two more! Hold the boat!”The resort clerk turned, her smile a slash of polished cruelty. “Once departure commences, it cannot be halted.” She looked right at us, that awful grin widening. “Missed the ferry, ladies? You’ll have to swim. A friendly warning: the waters here are… inhabited. And if you’re not on the island by noon, there will be penalties. Do be careful.”“You have got to be kidding me,” I snarled. The NPC was absolutely screwing with us on purpose.“Kiera, I can’t swim!” Jenna’s voice was a panicked warble, tears welling.“Then run faster. Crying is dead weight.” I wrenched my arm free, took two steps back, and gauged the widening gap of dark water.Jenna latched onto me again, her nails digging in. “Don’t leave

The sight made my skin crawl. That gaping mouth, the rows of needle-like teeth, the shreds of something dark and fleshy caught between them. A wave of pure, acidic disgust washed over me, so intense it translated into a single, crystalline thought: I want to burn every last one of them to ash.I looked away, closing my eyes. I took a slow breath, forcing the familiar, feral rage back down into the pit of my stomach. When I opened them again, my reflection in the glass was calm. Deceptively placid.The ferry was chugging into open water now, the island a hazy smudge on the horizon. But something was wrong. The boat wasn’t just rocking with the waves; it was lurching. Violently. Passengers stumbled, grabbing rails with white-knuckled grips.I saw it happen in perfect, horrifying detail. One of the players—a guy in a leather jacket—was thrown off-balance. He careened toward the railing, arms windmilling. His friend snagged his jacket at the last second, hauling him back from the brink. A

“Alright, you got me.”Liam Reed shook his head, a wry, defeated smile on his face. “I want to team up.”Then came the verbal avalanche. “I think you’re brave, strategic, observant, decisive…”It started reasonably enough, but the praise quickly spiraled into absurdity. By the time he threw in “and you have a kind heart,” I just stared. I let him talk, watching the performance with detached amusement, my head tilted.He finally ran out of steam. I gave him a flat, expectant look. Well? Don’t stop now.Under that gaze, his confidence faltered. He cleared his throat, cutting off his own ridiculous sales pitch. “So. I think you’d make an excellent teammate. Partners, Kiera?”“Sure.”I smiled, a quick, sharp thing. Why not? Going mad alone was boring. Having a witness to the chaos sounded far more entertaining.“And you won’t regret it, I have resources, I’m a solid player—wait, what did you say?” His words hit a wall. His pupils dilated slightly, disbelief washing over his features. “You