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Bound By Blood To The Mafia King Novel Cover

Bound By Blood To The Mafia King

Ashlyn was supposed to be just a fragile college student, selling her rare blood to a vicious crime syndicate enforcer to keep his dying sister alive. But the dynamic shattered when Alex returned from a two-month disappearance. He stepped into the penthouse covered in dirt and blood, sporting a horrific, jagged knife wound slashed completely across his face. Knowing exactly how to exploit his insecurities, Ashlyn played the role of the terrified victim to perfection. She screamed, pushed against his chest, and called him a terrifying monster. Humiliated and enraged by her blatant disgust, Alex violently smashed a marble table and kicked her out. He forced her out into a freezing, torrential rainstorm without a coat, vowing to kill her if she ever showed her face again. What the ruthless enforcer didn't know was that her pathetic, trembling tears were a flawless, calculated lie. She wasn't a helpless, greedy girl. She was a cold-blooded corporate mastermind hiding from a family of elite assassins. She desperately needed his impenetrable penthouse fortress to stay alive, and she knew the only way to secure her place wasn't to ask for it, but to make him beg for her return. Three days later, his sister's organs began to fail, and the hospital's blood bank ran dry. "I'll pay you whatever you want. Just get here." Listening to the desperate, broken voice of the monster over her burner phone, Ashlyn smiled coldly in the dark. The trap had snapped shut, and he had just handed her all the power.
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Chapter 4

Ashlyn practically threw herself into the elevator. She slammed her palm against the button for the lobby, her chest heaving. As the stainless steel doors slowly slid shut, cutting off the view of the penthouse hallway, she finally let her head fall back against the wall and exhaled a long, steady breath.

The elevator plummeted to the ground floor. She stepped out and walked quickly across the expansive, gold-accented lobby.

The moment she pushed through the revolving glass doors, the freezing night wind slammed into her. It sliced right through her thin silk pajamas.

She wrapped her arms tightly around her chest, rubbing her bare skin, and marched down the perfectly manicured, tree-lined driveway toward the massive wrought-iron gates of the gated community. Her heart was still beating erratically from the blood loss and the adrenaline of the fight.

She was ten yards away from the gate when the floodlights hit her.

The blinding white beams pinned her to the pavement. Ashlyn squeezed her eyes shut, throwing a hand up to shield her face. The light burned her retinas.

Two massive security guards, clad in black tactical gear, stepped out of the guardhouse. They were holding the thick leather leashes of two snarling Dobermans. The dogs strained against their collars, their teeth bared.

"Hold it right there, Miss," one of the guards barked, his voice devoid of any respect. "Show your night pass or present Mr. Robinson's iris authorization code."

Ashlyn ground her teeth together. "I have terminated my employment with Alex Robinson," she said, raising her chin. "Open the gate."

The two guards exchanged a look. One of them let out a low, mocking chuckle.

"Without Mr. Robinson's system override, not even a fly leaves this sector," the guard stated flatly. "Turn around."

One of the Dobermans lunged forward, barking viciously. The explosive sound sent a genuine spike of fear through Ashlyn. She stumbled backward, her bare heel catching on the edge of the concrete curb. She flailed her arms, barely catching her balance before she hit the ground.

A low rumble of thunder shook the sky. A second later, the sky ripped open.

Freezing, torrential rain poured down in sheets. Within seconds, Ashlyn's thin silk pajamas were plastered to her skin.

The icy water ran down her face, instantly stripping away the last remnants of her body heat. The dizzy, sickening wave of blood loss crashed into her brain again. Her knees shook.

She stared through the iron bars at the empty, wet streets of Empire City. She was trapped. In this city, controlled by capital and syndicate power, without the right clearance, she was a prisoner.

She weighed her options with cold logic. If she stayed out here, she would pass out from hypothermia and blood loss.

She bit down on her lower lip so hard she tasted copper. She turned around and began the humiliating walk back.

The rain battered her small frame. She walked back into the luxurious lobby looking like a drowned rat. The expensive rugs soaked up the muddy water dripping from her bare feet.

The lobby manager stared at her with wide eyes, but knowing she belonged to the monster in the penthouse, he kept his mouth shut.

Ashlyn stepped back into the elevator. She looked at her reflection in the mirrored walls. Her hair was plastered to her skull, her lips were blue, and she was shivering uncontrollably. A flash of pure, unadulterated humiliation burned in her eyes.

The elevator dinged at the top floor. She stood in front of the heavy oak door she had just dramatically fled through.

She hesitated for three seconds. Then, she raised a numb, freezing fist and knocked weakly on the wood.

The door wasn't locked. It was cracked open. She pushed it slightly and peeked inside.

The shattered glass and spilled bourbon were still on the floor.

Alex was leaning against the wall in the entryway. His long legs were crossed at the ankles. A lit cigarette was pinched between his fingers, the smoke curling around his scarred face.

He had been standing there the whole time. Watching the security feed. Watching her hit a brick wall in the storm and crawl back like a pathetic joke.

Ashlyn pushed the door open and stepped inside. A puddle of rainwater immediately formed around her feet. Her teeth were chattering so hard they clicked.

Alex stared at her. He exhaled a thick cloud of pale blue smoke.

"Why did you stop running?" he mocked, his voice dripping with cruelty.

Ashlyn dropped her head. The wet silk clung to every curve of her body, highlighting the violent shivers wracking her spine.

"The guards... wouldn't let me out," she whispered, her voice thick with a nasal, pathetic whine. "It's raining. I'm so cold."

Alex's eyes dropped to her soaked clothes, then up to her trembling, blue lips. His fingers tightened around the cigarette.

He wanted to laugh at her. He wanted to tear her apart with words. But looking at her swaying, fragile body-a body that had just been drained of blood to save his sister-his throat constricted. The lump of anger in his chest shifted into something ugly and complicated.

He cursed violently under his breath. He shoved the half-smoked cigarette directly into the pristine white wall, crushing the cherry and leaving a black scorch mark.

He pushed off the wall and marched over to the entryway table. He grabbed a heavy set of car keys, the metal jingling sharply in his fist.

He walked right past her shivering form, pushing the door open to the hallway.

"Follow me," he ordered, his voice like cracking ice.

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