Destructive King (Mafia Royals #3) Read Online Rachel Van Dyken

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Mafia Royals Series by Rachel Van Dyken
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 86398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
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Mama ran toward me only to be stopped by Daddy. “Leave her alone to think about what she did—what you both did.”

“Stop this!” Mama whimpered. “I only did what you asked me to do.”

“You bitch!” Daddy’s hand came flying, slapping mama in the face so hard that Mama fell to the ground. “I asked you to get pregnant with the next heir, and you gave me a fucking girl!”

“I can’t control—”

“You should have figured out a way! Or at least tried again!”

“Having a child nearly killed me the first time,” Mama whispered, cupping her cheek.

Daddy just snarled out another foul curse. “Good, maybe this time you’ll die.”

It was the last fight they had before Hell’s fury broke loose over us. Before I was covered in blood that wasn’t mine. Before strange men came barging into my house, guns blazing.

I held my brown bear close to my chest as screams filled the air. And then I prayed they’d take me too as I closed my eyes and wished for it all to go away.

To finally be free.

“Hey, don’t pass out on us yet,” Serena whispered in my ear. “Can you get up?”

I nodded slowly as a hush fell over the group of students circling me, ready to throw insults at me like perfectly sharpened arrows.

I’d always been on the outside looking in.

Only because the inside was deadly, and once you were in—there was no escape, was there?

I saw his combat boots first, black, most likely designer, as he stepped forward into the circle.

A tear slid down my cheek as I looked up into Ash’s cold eyes. I couldn’t tear my gaze from his, was afraid if I did, he’d laugh at me, or maybe worse.

This was, after all, his Kingdom. His world.

The students? His loyal subjects.

Me? A mere slave.

He crouched down on his haunches, his chiseled face completely unreadable, full lips pressed together while whiskey-colored hair tousled across his forehead. Why were the pretty ones always the most angry?

“What did I say about crying?” he asked, but before I could answer, he reached across the space between us and used his thumb to wipe away the tears still rolling down my cheeks. He then used that same hand to grip my chin and force me to look at him. “Ignore them.”

“Wh-what?”

“I said ignore them,” he whispered. “Your tears are worth more than all of their lives combined.” He moved his hand, and then he was reaching for my waist, pulling me to my feet.

I was so shocked he was actually helping that I was light-headed as he intertwined his fingers with mine. The crowd parted. People refused to look directly at Ash and me, choosing to look down at their phones and furiously text or pretend that they weren’t bullying and walk off.

My palm was sweaty against his. He squeezed my hand tight like he was taking possession, and I was petrified that he was seconds away from shoving me up against one of the old building’s brick walls and threatening me again.

When we reached the science building, I tried to pull away, but he just gripped my hand tighter as people watched in fascination at us, probably trying to figure out why the campus King had an orphan dangling off his arm.

He opened the door to the building pulling me in after him, and then continued walking at a purposeful pace until we reached Human Anatomy.

The hall was filled with around a hundred and fifty students as he brought me directly to the front and stood.

The professor glanced up, paled, and then grabbed his empty coffee cup and left out the side door; the click of it shutting was equal to a gunshot as everyone froze and stared at Ash.

“Human Anatomy and Physiology.” Ash dropped my hand and leaned against the desk while I watched in horror as every single student stared at us. I was paralyzed with fear of what he would do, fear of what they would do, I didn’t know if I could sit down in a chair or if I should stay up there with him, and the minute I turned to take a step, Ash grabbed my arm again as if to say, stay.

Shit.

Tears welled in my eyes as he started pacing in front of the class.

“I’ve always found the human body interesting.” He reached behind him and pulled out an ugly looking dagger with a serrated edge. “Take our ability to handle pain as an example. Did you know that the human brain doesn’t feel pain?” He tossed the knife in the air. “In fact, surgeons don’t even need to put patients under when they operate on the brain because no pain receptors exist in the brain tissue. So if I were to take this knife—” He grinned. “—and make tiny, itty, bitty cuts inside your skull, you’d smile at me like we were on a fucking picnic.” He walked toward one of the students sitting in the front. “Don’t believe me?”


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