The Alpha Kingpin's Fixation - Excerpt

-Anika/Anya-

The blinding lights of the stage hit me even harder than my captor did an hour ago. All eyes are on

me as I stand in nothing but a low-cut chiffon dress, barefoot, and with a face full of makeup to

cover my cuts and bruises.

"Don’t do anything to her face, assholes!” one of my captors had said, but the damage had been

done. All because I had been too out of it to notice what had been done to me... What they would

still do to me.

I landed in Las Vegas yesterday, ready to celebrate my 21st birthday with a few close friends.

Everything was perfect until we reached our final hotel bar crawl. We ordered glasses of champagne,

and when I got up to head to the bathroom, a hand clamped around my mouth, and darkness took

me before I could scream for help from Liev, my personal guard.

Guards, you ask? Well, my name is Anya Popov, and before my abduction, I was the only daughter

of a Russian Alpha Pakhan - a mafia princess for a better term. The only difference is I'm human - a

flaw to a great man like my father. But he loved me nonetheless.

My eyes adjust to the bright light and scan the crowd as they all hungrily look up at me. Apart from

the dingy backstage, the entire place looks fancier than I expected, similar to an opera house, but it

doesn't ease up my anxiety at all

In fact, it makes me feel even worse because now I know these people have money—a lot of it.

I spot primarily middle-aged to older men, and I can tell they're all itching to get their hands on me.

I've seen predatory glances before, and right now, I'm as safe as a newborn lamb in front of a pack

of hungry wolves, for lack of a better term

Sweat trickles down my back, and my heart hammers against my chest as my predicament finally

hits me; one of these people will purchase me to do with as they please, and there is absolutely

nothing I can do about it.

“This little princess has just turned 21; by the Goddess grace, she’s still a virgin!” My heart constricts

as the MC talks to the crowd, eliciting favorable murmurs from them.

As if he just didn't rip mine apart with that name.

Alpha Bastien loannides - the name hangs like a trophy in my father's mansion; the last Greek wolf

pack he took out and insulted before leaving for Russia, and now I have just been bought by that

very man.

But how was he still alive when my father supposedly killed him? Was it simply pure bad luck that I

ended up here?

The only reason I know all of this is because my father gets a bit too chatty when he’s had one too

many glasses of Vodka. He always made me join him for a nightcap and revealed to me what he

thought his most significant achievement was.

The fall of the loannides SilverCrest pack and the subsequent ruination of Isla loannides before

sending her back to her mate in pieces.

How ironic that I should end up like this when my father brutalized Bastien’s wife and sent him a

video afterwards? And how ironic is it that I might end up just like her?

I sink to the floor, and yet still no tears come through my horror even though I know for sure that

this man might just kill me if he has to find out who I truly am

Even if I had to lie and give him a different name, I am sure he has the means to figure out who I

am. In that case, I am dead right after I leave this room.

The door swings open again, and another man walks in. He's wearing a three-piece suit, has long

black hair, and has the same air of intimidation around him as Bastien. Sighing, he looks bored as he

gives me a once-over, then cocks his head to the side.

"Come with me,” he says, then walks out again, expecting me to follow him.

I blink, then get to my feet before another blow heads my way for not listening and stupidly follow

after the man.

I can still hear the MC and cringe thinking back to being on that stage underneath the hot, glaring

lights without knowing what would happen to me. By the looks on the faces of the men in the

crowd, some of them would have loved to buy me for their sick fantasies.

A disgusted feeling coils in my stomach at the thought, knowing that even though none of those

men bought me, someone else did—someone who is much more dangerous than anyone in that

crowd.

As soon as I step out of the room, the long-haired man grabs my forearm and pulls me along with

him to God knows where.

You would think I would be used to being pulled around like this, but whenever an unknown man

touches me, I feel like I want to vomit uncontrollably.

After a few minutes, we come to a stop outside a barred elevator, and he keys in a long code. When

the doors open, he pulls me inside and shoots me a sideways glance.

“Fucking left babysitting,” he grumbles before the doors open, and I am once again pulled around.

But this time, my surroundings puzzle me. Why am I in the living room of an expensive-looking

hotel suite?

“Mr. loaniddes will be up here to sort this shit out. Sit on your ass and wait for him,” the long-haired

man says, and I can do nothing but wait for my death sentence.