Todos os capítulos de The Mafia Alpha's Forbidden Mate: Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

"Leave me! Let me go, you monsters!"I slammed my fists repeatedly against the guard’s broad back, but it was like beating on solid stone. He carried me effortlessly over his massive shoulder, walking down the dim subterranean hallway of the auction house as if I weighed nothing more than a ragdoll.Desperate, I kicked my legs wildly, trying to land a blow against his ribs or throat. "Put me down!"A sharp spike of pain shot through my knuckles. My hands were swollen and throbbing, but the guard didn’t even flinch. He didn’t groan, didn’t slow down, didn’t acknowledge my frantic struggles in the slightest.Exhaustion pulled at my limbs. Panting, I let my bruised hands fall against his heavy leather jacket.He pushed through a heavy steel exit door, emerging into a private underground garage lined with black armored SUVs. Without a word, he opened the rear door of the central vehicle and tossed me unceremoniously onto the leather seat.Scrambling across the upholstery, I lunged for the

The heavy wrought-iron gates of the Blackthorn Estate opened silently into the night, swallowing the Maybach as it swept up a long, winding driveway flanked by towering black pines.When the car finally purred to a halt in front of a sprawling, gothic-style mansion, the doors were opened from the outside.Two armed guards stood at attention, their heads bowed low. Zayden stepped out first, adjusting his suit jacket, before turning to offer a cold, expectant hand.I ignored his hand, stumbling onto the gravel on my own weak legs. The cold night air bit into the bare skin exposed by the shredded fabric of my shirt. I gripped the chains binding my wrists, keeping them tucked defensively against my stomach."Inside," Zayden commanded, not bothering to look back as he walked up the wide stone stairs.I had no choice. The guards moved behind me like monolithic shadows, blocking any thought of the dark forest behind us.We entered a cavernous, dimly lit foyer paved in black marble. High vaul

The pale, silver radiance of the full moon poured through the arched glass windows of the west wing, cutting across the dark marble corridors like a blade.Inside the private study, Zayden poured three fingers of bourbon into a heavy crystal tumbler, his knuckles turning white against the glass. The air in the room was suffocating. Every breath carried the sharp, electric hum of the lunar cycle—the night when an Alpha King’s primal instincts raged at their peak.Yet it was not the moon that made his blood boil like liquid fire.It was the scent drifting down the hallway from the master suite. Wild vanilla, damp moss, and the delicate, intoxicating warmth of living human skin.Three days had passed since he bought her from that auction stage, yet the craving had only grown more violent, unyielding, and raw. Zayden downed the liquor in a single swallow, the burn doing nothing to quell the dark, heavy ache settling in his groin. He wanted her. He wanted to push past the locked doors, dra

The air in my private study carried a scent that didn't belong.I pushed the double mahogany doors open, my mind still unsettled from the raw fear in Serena's tear-drenched eyes. But the moment my boots crossed the threshold, the rich aroma of old leather and aged scotch was overpowered by the sharp, crisp scent of winter frost and lavender.Perched gracefully on the velvet chaise lounge near the grand fireplace was a massive, pristine white wolf.Her fur gleamed pure silver-white under the soft golden lamplight, thick and immaculate, marking her purebred royal lineage. She didn't flinch as I entered; instead, her striking silver eyes met mine with a calculating, predatory familiarity."You're far from your father's territory, Isabella," I said coldly, walking straight toward the crystal decanter on my desk without breaking stride.The white wolf let out a soft, low whine of amusement. Bones cracked and shifted with practiced fluidity as a silver haze shimmered over the beast. Within

The underground chamber smelled of stale cigar smoke, expensive bourbon, and barely concealed dread.Deep beneath the industrial district of the docks, inside a heavily fortified boardroom known only to the highest echelon of the city's crime syndicates, the heads of five major families sat around a massive mahogany table.At the head of the table, one high-backed leather chair remained starkly empty.No nameplate was needed. No one dared to sit near it, and no one even set a glass beside it.Victor Romano slammed his heavy fist onto the polished wood, the sharp crack echoing like a gunshot through the vaulted room."He didn't even bother to show up!" Victor roared, his face mottled with purple rage. "We called an emergency syndicate conclave, and Zayden Blackthorn sends us an empty chair!"Across the table, Don Salvatore—an older boss who had survived century in the human underworld—calmly tapped the ash from his cigar into a crystal tray."Lower your voice, Victor," Salvatore warned