Broken by the Alpha: The Moon Singer's Rise

I was the Alpha’s Fated Mate, but to Jacob, I was nothing more than a tool to soothe his rage with my piano music. He paraded Kassandra around as his true love, treating me like a servant in my own home. When Rogues attacked our territory, Jacob had to make a split-second choice. He chose to save Kassandra, believing her lie that she was pregnant with his heir. While he protected her, Kassandra looked me in the eye and stomped on my hand—crushing the bones and destroying my ability to play the music that kept the pack sane. I left the pack that night, broken and alone. It took Jacob weeks to discover the truth. Kassandra was never pregnant; she had been taking birth control for years and stealing millions from the pack treasury. Realizing he had sacrificed his true mate for a liar, Jacob destroyed Kassandra and came crawling back to me. He found me in Vienna, healed and rising as the powerful White Wolf Luna. He knelt in the dirt, slicing his own arm with a silver blade, begging for a chance to bleed for me the way I had bled for him. He offered me his Alpha title, his fortune, and his life. I looked at the man who had once been my entire world and felt nothing but a cold, hollow silence. "I don't hate you, Jacob," I said, turning to the man who truly loved me. "I just don't care."

Chapters

Chapter 5

Alexia POV

The silence of the infirmary was a mercy after they left, but it was a mercy that didn't last.

Night fell. The moon rose, casting long, skeletal shadows across my bed.

*Alexia?*

Jacob’s voice slithered into my head, uninvited.

I didn't answer. I kept my eyes fixed on the ceiling, tracing the cracks in the plaster.

*I know you're awake,* he persisted, his tone shifting from tentative to annoyed. *Look, about today... you have to understand. The Rogue was closer to Kassandra. It was a tactical decision.*

*Tactical,* I replied via the link, my mental voice as cold as the grave. *Is that what you call it?*

*Stop being dramatic,* he snapped, his guilt curdling into anger. *You were reckless. What were you doing at that bar anyway? If you hadn't run away, none of this would have happened. You provoked the Rogues by being out of territory.*

Gaslighting. He was rewriting reality again, twisting the narrative to make himself the hero and me the villain.

*I was leaving because you treat me like garbage,* I shot back. *And for the record, Kassandra wasn't 'traumatized.' I saw her, Jacob. She was smiling when the Rogue bit me. She stepped back to let it happen.*

*That's a lie!* Jacob roared so loud it echoed in my skull. *Kassandra loves this Pack! She loves me! She would never hurt you. You're delusional with pain. Stop lying!*

Alpha Command.

He tried to use the Command to silence me, to force my mind to bend to his will.

Pressure built in my skull, the familiar weight meant to crush a subordinate. But this time, it felt... different. It didn't crush me. It felt hollow. Distant. Like a shout heard from underwater.

Maybe because the bond was fraying. Maybe because my respect for him was dead.

*I'm not lying, Jacob,* I said, my mental voice steady. *But it doesn't matter. You believe what you want to believe. You always do.*

*Alexia, wait—*

I visualized a wall. A thick, obsidian wall. I slammed it down between our minds.

The connection severed. The silence returned. It was absolute.

I sat up. My head spun, but I forced myself to move.

I couldn't stay here. Not another night.

I grabbed a notepad from the bedside table. With my shaky left hand, I wrote a list of the songs they owed me for. I left it on the pillow.

I managed to dress myself in the clothes I had worn to the bar—now torn and bloodied, but they were all I had.

I slipped out of the infirmary window.

The Pack was distracted. Loud music and raucous cheering came from the main square.

I crept through the shadows until I could see the square.

A bonfire roared, sending sparks into the night sky. Jacob stood on a platform, placing a crown of flowers on Kassandra’s head. She was wearing my Moonstone. It looked dull against her skin, opaque and lifeless, devoid of the inner fire it held when it was mine.

"To our Luna!" the Pack chanted.

Fireworks exploded overhead, painting the sky in gold and red.

I stood in the darkness, cradling my broken hand against my chest.

A couple of Betas walked past my hiding spot, laughing, swaying slightly with drink.

"Did you hear about Alexia?" one asked. "Hand crushed. Useless now."

"Good riddance," the other sneered. "She was always a downer. Kassandra is so much more fun. A real Luna."

"Yeah. What was Alexia gonna do anyway? Play piano for rogues?"

They laughed, the sound grating against my ears, and moved on.

I leaned against a tree, the rough bark biting into my shoulder.

*Useless.*

*Downer.*

*Alpha's Shame.*

I looked at the fireworks one last time. They were celebrating their own demise, though they didn't know it yet. They were celebrating a liar and a weakling Alpha.

I turned my back on the light.

I walked toward the border. My hand throbbed in time with my heart, but my steps were lighter than they had been in years.

I had no piano. I had no money. I had a broken hand.

But I had the truth. And for the first time in my life, I belonged only to myself.

I disappeared into the night, leaving the Obsidian Pack to their hollow victory.

Continue to next part

Three days after my fiancé publicly dumped me for my stepsister, the Supreme Don issued a command that silenced the entire estate. I wasn't being cast aside. I was being sold to Damien Russo. The "Broken Don." A crippled, scarred monster rumored to have murdered his last two wives. My adoptive mother, Elena, didn't cry for me. She smirked. To her, I was finally being disposed of. She was so confident I was walking to my death that she decided to loot my corpse before I even left. She forged documents to steal my entire inheritance—my biological mother’s trust fund—to pay for my stepsister’s lavish wedding to my ex. "She won't need money where she's going," my stepsister laughed, wearing a dress bought with my stolen funds. They thought they were sending a lamb to the slaughter. They thought I was too weak, too stupid, and too afraid of the monster to fight back. But they made a fatal mistake. With my aunt’s help, I didn't just find the proof of their embezzlement; I found a weapon. I’m not running from the monster. I’m going to marry him. And when I hand him the evidence that the Herrera family stole from his bride, he won't be my executioner. He will be my vengeance.

Action Mafia Romance

7.7

From Pit to Palace: Charlie Emerged

7.7

"I want to end this relationship for good," Megan said coldly. Charlie's heart sank. "Why?" He stammered to ask, trying to disbelieve what he had just heard. "You want to know why?" Megan glared at him. "That's because you're a trash picker! My bright future can't shine with someone like you. So from now on, don't trouble me!" Despite everything Charlie had done for her, Megan felt that they weren't enough. She wanted more, but Charlie couldn't meet her high expectations. So she walked out of their three-year relationship to be with the rich, campus guy, calling Charlie a thorn in her flesh. But then.... Something happened. A mysterious call. Charlie's life changed. He's no longer the trash picker everyone knew on the campus. He now dines in the palace with dignitaries. To you, what do you think will be his next move? Revenge or what? Read to find out.

Action Mafia Young Adult

8.6

He Was Doomed to Die Until I Married Him

8.6

Ten days before our scheduled wedding, my fiancé, Capo Leo Gallo, came to my family's estate in the pouring rain. He didn't come to comfort me over my parents' recent deaths. He came to tell me that his mistress, Angelica, would remain by his side and hold the real power in our home. I was to be his wife in name only. He wanted to publicly humiliate me and steal my family's Brooklyn docks. In my past life, I didn't realize Leo and his family had actually orchestrated the brutal ambush that left my parents dead in a pool of blood. I endured his insults, only to be locked away in a gilded cage while they used my six-year-old brother, Luca, as a hostage. They drained my mother's trust fund, elevated his mistress to rule my home, and eventually sent my little brother and me to our miserable graves. They thought I was just a powerless orphan they could easily crush. They thought I didn't know the absolute truth behind the massacre that ruined my family and crippled the Don's eldest son, Damien Moretti. Opening my eyes again, I was back in the cold drizzle, listening to his arrogant demands. "As you wish, Leo," I said, burying my burning need for vendetta beneath a mask of hollow defeat. The moment he left to celebrate his victory, I turned to my loyal maid. "Send a message to the Mafia Queen. Tell her I am breaking my engagement to Leo. I wish to marry her crippled son, Damien, instead."

Mafia Modern Romance

7.1

His Mafia Queen, My Substitute Heart

7.1

My perfect marriage to Don Dante Moretti, the most powerful man in the New York mob, ended the moment my father died. I was twenty-four, pregnant with his heir, and I believed I was his queen. But for two days, while I planned a funeral alone, my husband was unreachable. Then a friend sent me a photo. Dante in London, his hand tangled in the hair of the woman beside him. It was my cousin, Valentina. He came home with lies about a dead phone and a difficult summit. That night, I found his private journal, and my world disintegrated. He had married me because I had "Valentina’s eyes." I was a substitute. Our unborn child wasn't a product of love. It was a project. A girl he planned to name Elena, after Valentina, calling her a "perfect, tiny piece of the woman I can never truly possess." I wasn't his wife. I was a stand-in. The love I felt for him didn't just die. It was murdered. The next morning, I slid a folder across the kitchen island. "Donation forms," I said. He didn't even look before scrawling his signature on what were actually our finalized divorce papers. His arrogance was my weapon. As he slept beside me that night, smelling of lies and my cousin, I made an appointment at a private clinic. He wanted a legacy? I would give him nothing.

Mafia Modern Romance

8.3

Married To The Comatose Mafia King

8.3

I stood before the altar of the grand gothic cathedral, about to marry Julian Moretti, the grieving adopted son stepping up for the comatose Don. To the hundreds of mafia men behind us, it was a dutiful wedding. But I knew the horrifying truth. Julian and his pregnant mistress, Clara, had orchestrated a brutal plot to steal my dowry and secure his place as the next Don. In my past life, I was completely blind to their betrayal. Julian trapped me in our apartment and set it ablaze. I could still feel the blistering heat of the fire. I could still hear my mother’s agonizing screams and my little brother Antonio’s desperate coughing as the smoke filled our lungs. My entire family was burned alive just so Julian could swap the brides and put his whore in my place. I died in pure agony, filled with hatred and despair, wondering why I had trusted a monster. God hadn't saved me from those flames. The Devil had. And he sent me back to this exact moment at the altar. "Do you, Isabella Rossi, take Julian Moretti to be your lawfully wedded husband?" the priest asked. Julian reached for my hand with a sickeningly gentle smile. I didn't give it to him. I tore back my lace veil and turned to face the crowd. "You are mistaken, Father," I said, my voice like ice. "The man I am bound to marry is your Don. Damien Moretti."

Mafia Modern Romance

8.0

Pregnant And Running From The Mafia Don

8.0

For five years, my husband kept me in a dog cage because he believed I murdered his fiancée, my stepsister Kinsley. He stripped me of my dignity, my name, and my humanity, all to avenge a woman who wasn't even dead. When Kinsley finally returned, alive and smiling, I thought my nightmare was over. Instead, she framed me again. Right in front of Courtland, she pushed my little brother down the stone steps of the estate. I held my brother's broken body in the rain, screaming for help. But Courtland just stood there, shielding Kinsley under his umbrella, looking at me with cold indifference. He chose the monster over his wife. That night, I realized love wasn't enough to save me. So, I stood on the edge of the hospital roof and let gravity take me. I wanted him to mourn. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to burn. Three years later, at a gala in New York, the Ice King dropped his champagne glass. He stared at me—the woman in the red dress, the fiancée of his rival. I looked him dead in the eye and smiled like a stranger. He cornered me later, his voice trembling with rage and obsession. "Death is the only divorce in my world, Anastasia. And you are still very much alive."

Mafia Modern Romance

Broken by the Alpha: The Moon Singer's Rise

Chapter 5

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