Follow
Chapters
Share
The Alpha's Blood debt Vessel  Novel Cover

The Alpha's Blood debt Vessel

Giovanni was a girl of "worthless" rank, or so they told her. When she's hand-picked to marry Russell Van-Doren-the most ruthless, cold-blooded billionaire Alpha in the tri-state pack-she thinks she's found a miracle. She walks down the aisle with raw sincerity and a reckless sort of hope, unaware that her "miracle" was actually a transaction. Russell doesn't want a wife. He doesn't want a Luna. He wants a clean, high-grade breeding vessel to carry the heir that will solidify his claim over the mafia underworld and the pack's legacy. In the bedroom, he is a storm; in the morning, he is ice. Then came the positive pregnancy test. Trembling with joy, she thought this was the turning point. She thought a child would finally make them a family. Instead, she walked into a conversation that shattered her soul. She wasn't a wife. She wasn't a partner. To Russell, she was nothing more than a biological necessity-a "clean" vessel acquired to incubate an heir and secure his legacy before being discarded. Heartbroken and terrified, Giovanni made a choice. She wouldn't let her child be raised by a monster. She faked her death and vanished. Five years later, the timid girl is gone. In her place stands Dr. Giovanni Kove, a genius surgeon with lethal beauty and a heart of stone. She has returned to the city not to hide, but to dominate. But the game has changed. Russell isn't the only one watching her now. Caught between her vengeful ex-husband who wants his heir, and Xavier-the dangerous, charismatic rival who wants to burn Russell's empire to the ground-Giovanni holds all the cards. The man who once looked at her with disgust is now on his knees. But does he want forgiveness? or is he just hunting his prey?
Chapters
Share

Chapter 6

Her stomach dropped, which is not a good thing, is it?" His lips curved into that same sharp and dangerous smile. "For you?" he said. "No." Then he leaned down and his voice dropping to a whisper against her ear. "But it might be your only chance to survive."

The sunlight bled through the tall windows falling in sharp angles across the plush floor. Giovanni stirred, her body still humming from the fevered haze of the week prior. 

Every touch, every whispered command from Russell and every late-night collision of instinct and desire had left her unsteady like a moth trapped in a storm of fire. She had thought foolishly and  desperately that she had glimpsed something human beneath the mask of the Alpha.  A man capable of tendernes  even in his darkness.

Her fingers trembled as she held the small white stick between them. Positive... The symbol was undeniable. A life growing inside her and proof of a connection she had barely dared to hope could exist. Her chest tightened not from joy but a tangle of fear and hope. She had to tell him. She had to.

Her steps were quiet on the carpet not to make a sound and  corridors were empty or so she thought. When she reached the study, the door was slightly ajar and voices leaking through the crack. She froze.

"...and she doesn't need to know the truth," Russell's voice was smooth and calm but every word sliced through her like a blade. "...biological necessity," Xavier's tone was clinical and almost amused. "Are you saying you'd sacrifice her status for the child?"

Russell's laugh was low, predatory. "The child is the Van-Doren heir. Nothing else matters. Once it's born, Giovanni will have no claim, no title. I'll exile her to the fringe packs before she can influence anything. The last thing I want is for my heir to inherit weakness. She will be a vessel, nothing more."

The words froze Giovanni mid-step. Her stomach lurched and her pulse hammering in her ears. The man she had clung to fought to believe could love her had been planning her erasure the entire time. Her body trembled while her hands gripping the doorframe. The stick was clenched so tightly, it threatened to snap.

Xavier laughed again but low and satisfied. "Efficient and calculated. You've thought this through." Russell's voice dropped, almost reverent in its cruelty. "Everything I do, I do for the pack. For the child. For the Van-Doren legacy. She's... replaceable."

Giovanni's hands fell to her sides as her breath hitched and ragged. The world seemed to tilt. Weeks of fevered nights, of the raw, unbearable chemistry she had thought was mutual, were nothing but a cage he had built around her. She had been a stepping stone for his legacy which is a  "biological necessity."

Her wolf howled in pain, sharp, internal scream that no human sound could match. Giovanni fled before they could notice her presence. Each step down the hallway felt like running through fire and her body shaking with betrayal and fear. She needed air, space and  distance. Anything to escape the suffocating realization.

She stumbled onto the balcony and the wind cutting through her hair, tearing at the remnants of fevered warmth she had carried from the bed with her fingers clutched the railing as she fought to steady her racing heartbeat. The city beyond looked unreal and detached from the jagged edges of her despair.

A memory from the past week clawed at her, Russell's hands on her skin and his voice low and commanding the flicker of something almost human in his eyes. She had thought she was reaching him but she hadn't reached a man. She had reached an Alpha who viewed her as a means, a tool and a vessel and not someone capable of love and care.

Giovanni's wolf shrieked inside her chest, clawing against her ribs and  mourning a hope she had dared to nurture. Tears blurred her vision. She had been desperate for love and in that desperation, she had let herself believe in a mirage.

She did not hear Russell's footsteps until he was on the balcony, the long shadow of his frame stretching over her. He stopped a few feet away, watching. His presence was heavy, a predator contained only by the narrow line of the railing. "Giovanni," he said softly, almost cautiously. "I know you heard." Her spine stiffened, her fists clenching. "I did," she said, voice shaking. "Every word."

Russell took a careful step closer to her and said. "It's not what you think"

"No," she spat, the venom tasting like ash. "It's exactly what I think. You never wanted me. You just wanted my body and my fertility. I was... disposable." Russell's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of something she had never seen before, uncertainty, perhaps guilt or maybe surprise that she could see through him so clearly. "Giovanni, listen "

"Don't," she interrupted sharply. "Don't tell me anything. I know who and what you are. And I will not will not be part of this nightmare."

He hesitated then he moved closer. His golden eyes burned into hers, a blend of anger and desire that made her skin crawl even as it made her pulse spike. "You're carrying my child," he said, low, deliberate. "That doesn't make you disposable. It makes you mine. Everything I do "

"I am not yours," she snapped, stepping back, shaking her head. "I am not yours to claim, to use, to discard. I trusted you. I wanted God, I wanted... something real. And you only wanted control."

Russell's jaw tightened, his anger thinly veiled over something else something primal, something dangerous. "Control isn't a crime, Giovanni. You can't survive in my world without it. Without me."

Giovanni laughed bitterly, a sound that was half heartbreak, half fury. "Survive without you? That's exactly what I plan to do. You will not dictate my life, my child, or my freedom."

Her wolf surged inside her with a torrent of instinct, rage, and she felt a sharp clarity for the first time in the fevered haze of the past week. She would not be his vessel. She would not be a pawn in his war and is surviving meant defying him, she would do it.

Keep Watching!
The story is getting intense! Switch to App to continue reading
Unlock All Episodes
Open the Official Website

You may also like

After Divorce: My Arrogant Ex Regrets Calling Me Trash Novel Cover
7.3
Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world. In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief." But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius. Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be.
After My Dead Wife's Revenge, I Found New Love Novel Cover
8.5
The champagne flute slipped from my fingers, crystal shattering against marble as the world exploded around me. One moment I was laughing at Donovan's joke about our future children, my hand resting on the gentle curve of my belly where our baby grew. The next, the Seattle waterfront venue erupted in a deafening roar of fire and debris. The blast wave hit me like a freight train, lifting me off my feet and hurling me backward into the concrete pillar with bone-crushing force. Pain shot through my spine, my ribs, my skull. Something warm and wet trickled down my face—blood, I realized dimly as darkness crept in from the edges of my vision. Through the ringing in my ears, I heard screams, sirens, the crackle of flames consuming what had been our perfect anniversary celebration just seconds before. "Donovan," I whispered, my voice barely audible even to myself. Where was my husband? The explosion had torn us apart, scattered guests like leaves in a hurricane.
Ex-Boyfriend's Cruel Betrayal Novel Cover
8.2
The fluorescent lights in the company break room hummed overhead, casting harsh shadows across the worn linoleum floor. I clutched my coffee cup tighter, the ceramic warm against my palms as I watched Jasper pace near the vending machines. His usually gentle demeanor had vanished, replaced by something cold and unfamiliar that made my stomach clench with dread. "We need to talk," he said without looking at me, his voice carrying an edge I'd never heard before. I set down my cup, the small clink echoing in the empty room. "What's wrong? You've been distant all week—" "Cut the act, Sarai." He finally turned to face me, his brown eyes hard as stone. "I know what you're really after." Confusion washed over me like ice water. "What are you talking about?" Jasper's laugh was bitter, devoid of any warmth. "The innocent routine is getting old.
Love After Years of Pain Novel Cover
8.3
I stood frozen in the doorway of our Manhattan penthouse master bedroom, my fingers gripping the frame so tightly my knuckles turned white. The sight before me wasn't new—Ryan entangled with another woman—but it never hurt any less. He saw me. I know he did. His steel-gray eyes locked with mine over Isabella Walsh's bare shoulder, and his lips curved into that cruel smirk I'd grown to dread. Instead of stopping, he pulled her closer, his hands tracing possessive patterns across her skin. "Ryan," Isabella purred, her voice carrying deliberately across the room, "don't stop." She turned her head, noticing me with feigned surprise before her crimson lips spread into a triumphant smile. Her laugh echoed through the room—musical, mocking, meant for me to hear. I backed away silently, my chest tight with a familiar ache. Three years of this.
Reborn Princess: Burning Her Scornful Crown Novel Cover
7.8
I spent three years trying to be the perfect Crown Princess, enduring my husband Bradley's coldness while pouring my family's fortune into his royal projects. I truly believed our marriage was built on duty and that our adopted son, Jimmie, was the bond that held us together. Everything changed on a stormy night when I caught Bradley in his study, calmly watching my family's trust fund documents-the entire Orozco legacy-burn to ash in the fireplace. He didn't even look guilty as he explained that I was never his partner, only a convenient bank account for the Crown. When I lunged to save the papers, Bradley shoved me to the floor with bored indifference. Then, the ultimate betrayal walked through the door: Jimmie. My son didn't run to comfort me; he took Bradley's hand and looked at me with pure venom. Bradley sneered, revealing that Jimmie wasn't adopted at all-he was his biological son with my best friend, Icy. "We just needed you to fund his future," Bradley said. I was dragged out by guards and thrown into a sedan speeding toward the cliffs. At Dead Man's Curve, the driver jumped out of the moving car, leaving me to plummet into the freezing ocean. As the water filled my lungs and my life faded, I didn't feel fear. I felt a distilled, murderous hate. I woke up gasping for air in my old bedroom, three years before the crash. It was the day of my fake infertility diagnosis, the beginning of their plan to break me. "The Fiona who listened to you is dead," I whispered, looking at my reflection. I didn't cry this time. Instead, I dressed in black and headed into the night to find the only man Bradley feared-the lethal, "boiling-blooded" Regent, Demian Ballard. I was going to save his life, and in return, he was going to help me burn the palace down.
Reclaiming Life from Lies Novel Cover
8.2
The needle slid into my vein with practiced precision, and I forced myself to stare at the ceiling tiles rather than the crimson liquid flowing from my arm. Three years of these 'donations,' and I still couldn't watch without feeling lightheaded. Or maybe that was just the anemia talking. 'You're doing wonderfully, Mrs. Sterling,' Nurse Patel said, her voice gentle as she adjusted the flow rate. 'Victoria is so fortunate to have someone like you in her life.' I managed a weak smile, my fingers instinctively finding the silver locket at my throat—the last gift from my birth mother before the accident that orphaned me. 'It's the least I can do. If I were in her position...' The nurse nodded sympathetically. 'Still, not everyone would donate so frequently. Especially with your condition.' My 'condition' being the chronic fatigue and dizziness that had become my constant companions—side effects of donating blood every two weeks for Victoria's rare disorder.