
Bound to the Beast Mafia Boss
I make my living binding monsters to their promises. But Silas Malphas is the one monster I never should have touched.
As a Thread-Binder, I can see the glowing, invisible strings of loyalty, debt, and lies connecting everyone in the city's supernatural underworld. It makes me the ultimate contract lawyer-and the perfect infiltrator.
My mission is simple: secure a job in the inner circle of the House of Malphas, the city's most ruthless monster syndicate, and steal the Primal Ledger from their lethal heir.
Silas Malphas commands the shadows themselves. He is arrogant, dominant, and terrifyingly elegant. But the most dangerous thing about him isn't his power-it's that when I look at him, I see *nothing*. He is a void in the magical spectrum. No debts. No loyalties. He is completely unreadable.
I was supposed to betray him. But as I am dragged deeper into his golden cage of high-stakes negotiations and blood-soaked boardroom politics, the lines between my mission and my dark attraction to the Beast begin to blur.
When a rival faction launches a deadly coup and my cover is blown, I am left with a terrifying choice. To survive the night, I must forge a blood-oath contract with the very monster I was sent to destroy.
I'm no longer just his lawyer. I'm bound to the Beast.
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Chapter 3
"What do you see, Sienna?"
Silas Malphas asked the question with a voice smoother than velvet and colder than a winter grave. He leaned over the dark mahogany desk. His golden eyes locked onto mine. He knew I was using my magic. He could feel the shift in the room.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I stared into the terrifying void of his existence. There were no bright lines of loyalty and no dark ropes of deceit. He was a black hole. If I told him the truth, he would know I possessed a level of sight far beyond a standard legal contractor. He would view me as a threat.
I forced my breathing to steady. I dropped my magical sight, letting the vibrant colors of the office rush back into my vision.
"I see a man who does not like to waste his time on standard interviews," I answered. My voice did not shake.
Leo chuckled from his chair, tossing his silver dagger onto the desk. The sharp clatter echoed in the heavy silence.
Silas did not smile. He simply studied me for another long, suffocating second. He was searching for the lie. The scent of ozone and cold iron rolled off his bespoke suit, filling my lungs and making my skin prickle with raw danger.
"You are correct," Silas murmured. He straightened up, adjusting his pristine left cuff link. "Resumes are useless pieces of paper. Anyone can lie on paper. I prefer a practical demonstration."
"A demonstration?" I asked.
"Bring your pen, Sienna," Silas commanded. He turned and walked toward the heavy oak doors. "We have a negotiation."
He did not wait to see if I would follow. He expected obedience. I grabbed my waterproof satchel and hurried after him, my heels clicking softly against the polished hardwood. Leo fell into step right behind me. The chaotic energy radiating from the younger brother felt like a ticking bomb at my back.
We walked down the long glass corridor. The supernatural elite of the corporate world parted like the red sea for Silas. No one met his gaze. The level of sheer dominance he exerted over the floor was intoxicating and terrifying.
We reached a private elevator at the end of the hall. The doors were solid, brushed steel without any buttons. Silas pressed his bare hand against the metal. A faint red glow scanned his palm, and the doors slid open silently.
I stepped inside the confined space with the two monster syndicate heirs.
The doors closed, sealing us in. The elevator began to plummet. It was not going down to the lobby. It was going deep underground.
The physical proximity to Silas was overwhelming. The elevator was spacious, but his presence consumed all the oxygen. I could feel the low frequency vibration of his dark magic humming in the floorboards. It felt like standing far too close to a dormant volcano.
"The Iron Fang faction," Silas stated, keeping his gaze fixed on the descending floor numbers. "They are a mid tier vampire syndicate controlling the southern shipping docks. They missed their tribute payment last month. They claim the hunters have disrupted their supply lines."
"Are they lying?" I asked.
"Yes," Leo sneered from the corner of the elevator. "They are hoarding the blood shipments and trying to build a private army. They think we are distracted by the upcoming council summit."
"Your task is simple," Silas said, his golden eyes flicking to mine in the reflection of the steel doors. "We are going to have a brief meeting with their leader. You will draft a new tribute agreement on the spot. You will bind them to the new terms."
"And if they refuse to sign?" I asked.
"Then Leo gets to have some fun," Silas replied softly.
The elevator came to a jarring halt. The numbers above the door read negative fifteen. We were deep in the subterranean levels of the city.
The steel doors opened to reveal a massive, dimly lit concrete bunker. The air down here was freezing and stale. It smelled of damp earth and old decay. In the center of the vast room sat a long metal table. Five figures stood waiting around it.
The Iron Fang vampires.
Their leader was a tall, gaunt man with a jagged scar running down the side of his pale throat. He wore a heavy leather trench coat and a sneer that showed the sharp tips of his fangs. He radiated hostile arrogance.
Silas stepped out of the elevator. The temperature in the bunker dropped instantly. The vampires stiffened, their predatory instincts reacting to the apex predator entering their domain.
I walked out next, staying close to Silas's left side. Leo flanked his right. We approached the metal table. Silas did not offer his hand. He did not sit in the empty chair at the head of the table. He stood towering over the metal surface.
"Viktor," Silas said. The name sounded like a death sentence on his tongue.
"Silas," the vampire leader replied, his voice a raspy hiss. "We were surprised by the summons. We expected an auditor, not the heir himself."
"I am auditing you right now," Silas said. "This is Sienna Vance. She is our new legal contractor. She is going to write down your new tribute terms."
Viktor glared at me. His dark eyes flashed with hungry malice. He saw a fragile human standing in a room full of monsters. He saw prey.
"A human scribe," Viktor mocked. "How quaint. But as I told your collectors last week, the southern docks are dry. The hunters are making it impossible to move product. We have no tribute to give."
"Draft the contract, Sienna," Silas ordered. He did not look at Viktor. He looked at the wall behind the vampire, projecting total boredom.
I set my satchel on the cold metal table. I pulled out a fresh sheet of heavy parchment and my silver binding pen. My hands were remarkably steady. The adrenaline was sharpening my senses.
I needed to know the layout of the room. I needed to see their hidden motives. I blinked, pushing my magic into my eyes to activate my Thread Binding sight.
The dark bunker washed out into gray tones. The glowing threads of the supernatural world flared to life.
Viktor was covered in thick, pulsing black ropes of deceit. Every word he spoke was a calculated lie. But that was not the most dangerous thing I saw.
Jagged, violent crimson threads pulsed rapidly between Viktor and his four guards. The threads of aggression and coordinated attack. I followed the red lines down. They connected to the heavy lumps concealed beneath their leather coats.
Weapons. They were gripping silver plated firearms and blessed blades. They had not come here to negotiate a tribute. They had come here to assassinate the heir of the Malphas syndicate.
Panic flared in my chest. If I shouted a warning, they would draw their weapons and fire. Silas and Leo were fast, but silver bullets at point blank range were lethal even to monsters. I had to stop the attack before it started. I had to use the contract.
"The terms," I said clearly, keeping my eyes fixed on the blank parchment. "You will pay double the missed tribute within twenty four hours, plus a ten percent penalty for the delay."
Viktor laughed harshly. "I just told you, human. We have nothing."
The crimson threads thickened. The guards were tensing their muscles. They were going to draw their weapons in seconds.
I did not have time for a physical signature. I had to force a localized magical binding. It was a highly illegal, incredibly dangerous move. If I failed, the magic would backfire and stop my own heart.
"Syndicate law stipulates that verbal refusal during an official audit is considered an act of treason," I stated, my voice echoing in the concrete room.
I pressed the silver tip of my pen to the parchment. I did not write words. I channeled my raw magic down my arm and into the ink. I visualized the golden threads of binding magic spinning out of the pen and weaving directly into the metal of the table.
"Treason?" Viktor snarled, stepping closer to the table. His hand slipped inside his leather coat. "You arrogant little..."
I acted.
I slammed my left palm flat against the parchment, pushing the full force of my Thread Binding magic outward. A shockwave of pure golden light erupted from the table.
The magic swept across the room in a blinding flash. It wrapped around Viktor and his four guards like invisible steel chains. The vampires gasped, their bodies freezing mid motion. Their hands were stuck inside their coats, unable to pull their hidden weapons.
The binding contract was not on the paper. I had bound the physical space around the table. Anyone standing within the circle of magic was now physically paralyzed by the terms of the treaty until they agreed to pay.
Viktor strained against the invisible bonds. His pale face twisted in agony as the magic burned against his skin. His fangs fully extended, his eyes wide with shock and fury.
"What is this?" Viktor choked out, unable to move his legs. "Witchcraft!"
I stood up straight, my breathing ragged. Forcing an area binding took a massive toll on my energy. My vision swam for a second, but I locked my knees and refused to show weakness.
"It is a compliance clause," I said coldly, looking the paralyzed vampire in the eyes. "You brought weapons to a peaceful audit. That violates the primary laws of the Supreme Council. You are legally bound to this spot until the House of Malphas decides your fate."
I turned to look at Silas.
He had not moved. He had not flinched when the golden magic erupted. He was staring at me, his predatory golden eyes wide with dark, unreadable intensity.
He knew they were going to attack.
The realization hit me like a physical punch to the gut. Silas knew they were armed. He brought me down here specifically to see what I would do when faced with an assassination attempt. He used himself as bait to test my skills.
A slow, terrifying smile spread across Silas's face. It was the smile of a beast who had just found a new favorite toy.
"Leo," Silas said softly, his eyes never leaving mine.
"With pleasure," Leo laughed.
The younger brother moved in a blur of terrifying speed. He bypassed the invisible magical barrier with a specific shifter technique. A silver blade flashed in the dim light.
Viktor's head separated from his shoulders in one clean, brutal strike.
The vampire leader crumbled to ash before his body even hit the concrete floor. The four paralyzed guards screamed, trapped in my magical web, watching their boss turn to dust.
"Execute the rest of them," Silas ordered his brother, his tone as casual as if he were ordering a coffee. "Take their territory tonight."
Silas finally broke his gaze away from me and looked down at the blank parchment on the table. He reached out and picked it up, folding it neatly and placing it into his jacket pocket.
"You passed the test, Sienna," Silas whispered, stepping so close to me that the scent of his cologne and the fresh ash filled my senses. "Your magic is rare. It is highly effective. And it now belongs to me."
"I am an independent contractor," I reminded him, trying to keep my voice steady despite the adrenaline crashing through my veins.
Silas reached up. His large, gloved hand gently brushed a stray lock of hair away from my face. The touch was terrifyingly soft compared to the brutal violence he just commanded.
"Not anymore," Silas corrected, his voice a dark, possessive rumble. "You are not going back to your dingy office. You are not going back to your empty apartment. Pack your things tonight. You belong to the House of Malphas now."
He dropped his hand and walked toward the elevator, leaving me standing in a room full of ash and monsters. I had successfully infiltrated the syndicate. I was inside.
But as the heavy steel doors closed behind the Beast, I realized I had just locked myself inside a cage I might never escape.
Author's Note
Sienna did not just survive the interview; she dominated it! Using her magic to bind the room was a massive risk, but it definitely caught Silas's attention. What did you think of Silas testing her like that? Do you think she can handle living in the Malphas estate under his constant watch? Let me know your thoughts in the comments, and please like and share if you are hooked on the tension!
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8.3
When Eli is forced to enroll at Blackwood Academy, he thinks it is just another remote boarding school. But on his first night, he realizes the terrifying truth.
This school is a prison.
Trapped in endless, deadly time loops, students are forced to complete cruel, supernatural trials. Ghosts, cursed hallways, hidden rules, and unspeakable creatures hunt them after dark. The only way to stay alive is to solve mysteries, earn credits, and obey the academy's twisted commands.
No one remembers how they arrived.
No one has ever graduated.
No one leaves alive.
Eli must team up with other desperate students to uncover the academy's century-old secret. If they fail, they will be trapped in the nightmare forever.
At Blackwood Academy, survival is the only exam.

8.9
Audrey Fletcher was forced to marry the notorious playboy Julian Sterling to save her family's sinking company after her sister ran away.
On their wedding night, her new husband threw a $100,000 check at her face, told her they would be strangers in private, and abandoned her in the bridal suite.
She thought being trapped in a loveless, transactional marriage was the worst fate possible.
She was wrong.
To protect herself, Audrey hung a pair of men's boxer shorts on her balcony to fake a lover's presence.
Instead of deterring her husband, the ridiculous ruse brought Alistair Sterling—Julian's terrifying, powerful uncle and the true puppet master of the family.
He stormed into her apartment with a legal team to catch her cheating, and later even offered her ten million dollars to divorce his nephew.
When she refused out of fear of her own family's ruin, the situation escalated.
Forced to attend a charity gala, Audrey was tricked by staff into wearing a scandalous, backless gown and sent to a dark penthouse suite to beg her husband for peace.
But the man waiting in the shadows wasn't Julian. It was Alistair.
"Does the thought of seducing your husband's uncle give you a special kind of thrill?"
He didn't listen to her desperate explanations. Instead, he pinned her arms behind her back and crushed his mouth against hers in a brutal, punishing kiss.
Trembling with terror and revulsion, Audrey bit his lip until she tasted blood, shoved the billionaire away, and ran for her life.
She couldn't understand why this powerful man was so dangerously obsessed with destroying her sham marriage.
But as she fled into the cold city night, she realized the terrifying truth: the real game was just beginning.

8.5
"And that is the reason why I said those words. I like your fear, not because it is a normal thing. I love it because deep down you are a monster like me, schiava. You fear me on a primal level, you can feel my power and dominance, and you know you aren't the strongest here. So you don't fear Renzo Valentino the human, you fear the monster that lurks inside."
My life changed the night of my birthday. What started as a funny dare ended with blood and having a price on my head.
I thought Renzo was the hero who saved me that night, but he was the devil who owned me forever.
I, Misha Yakov, princess of the Russian mafia became Renzo Valentino's slave.
He broke me, tortured me, and molded me into something new, something I hated and craved at the same time.
I, Misha Yakov became my master's pet.

9.4
Michael Carter is an undercover FBI agent on a mission to take down ruthless mafia king Fernando Ramírez-the man he believes killed his sister. But getting close to Fernando means playing a dangerous game, one where seduction and power blur the lines between enemy and lover.
When Michael uncovers a shocking truth, his thirst for revenge turns into a fight for something far more dangerous-his own heart. Now, torn between duty and desire, he must decide: destroy the man he swore to take down or surrender to the one thing he never saw coming.
Love has never been more lethal.

7.2
Elara Vex had everything-a flawless ice core, the title of prodigy, and a place at the pinnacle of the High Tower. But in one brutal night, it was all ripped away. Her mentor tore the core from her chest. Her fiancé drove a sword through her back. Her own sister smiled as she bled out on the cold marble floor.
When Elara wakes, she's years in the past, mere hours before her core is scheduled to be stolen. This time, she won't be anyone's sacrificial lamb. She shatters her own core with forbidden blood magic and forges something far more terrifying in its place-a bottomless, ravenous Chaos Core that devours magic itself.
Now, branded a worthless cripple and cast into the deadly Abyss, Elara is pulled from the darkness by the outcasts of Elysium Academy-a school for heretics, psychopaths, and everything the Tower despises. Under the tutelage of a reclusive principal who knew her murdered mother, Elara will master her forbidden power and uncover the Tower's darkest secrets.
When the Five Academies Ranking Tournament arrives, Seraphina Vex stands in the arena, draped in white saintess robes, ready to claim ultimate glory. She doesn't know that a ghost from her past has clawed her way back from hell. She doesn't know that Elara is coming-and this time, the prodigal sister isn't asking for mercy. She's bringing chaos.

9.3
Ginny was chained to a concrete pillar in an abandoned warehouse, bleeding and betrayed by the two people she trusted most.
Her fiancé, Brant, and her adopted sister, Coretta, had just slashed her face open. Brant coldly admitted she was nothing but a disposable key to a vault, right before he tossed a lighter onto the gasoline-soaked floor.
As Ginny burned alive in the roaring inferno, the heavy iron doors were violently smashed open. Bedford Parks—the notoriously ruthless, germaphobic "monster" of Silicon Valley whom Ginny had always feared—charged straight into the flames. Ignoring the blistering heat, he shielded her charred body with his own. A massive steel beam collapsed, snapping his spine.
"I love you."
He coughed up blood, whispering his final words against her blackened skin before dying to protect her.
Hovering as a ghost, Ginny's soul screamed in agonizing realization. She had spent her life terrified of Bedford, yet he was the only one who truly loved her, while her supposed family laughed at her gruesome murder.
Suddenly, a blinding white light swallowed the warehouse.
Ginny gasped for air, opening her eyes to find herself sitting in the back of a luxury Maybach. She was eighteen again, wearing the humiliating clown makeup Coretta had tricked her into wearing on the day she was brought back to the wealthy Steele estate.
Ginny stared at her reflection, her dark eyes turning cold and sharp.
This time, she would tear her betrayers apart piece by piece, and she would protect her "monster."