Claimed by My Mafia Alpha King

Irina’s POV

The envelope was thick, worn at the edges from how many times I had opened and closed it.

I sat on the edge of the guest room bed, my legs crossed beneath me. The room was bathed in the soft, gray light of the early morning, the kind of quiet hour before the city truly woke up. Luka was fast asleep in his bassinet near the window. His tiny chest rose and fell in a steady, peaceful rhythm. He had one little fist curled up securely by his cheek.

I tipped the manila envelope over. A stack of bills slid out, landing softly on the quilted mattress.

Twenties. Fifties. A few hundreds.

It wasn’t a massive fortune. To a mafia king like Nicholas, it wouldn’t even cover the cost of a single dinner. But to me, it was everything. It was real. Every single dollar was earned with my own two hands at Elena’s clinic. For the first time in my entire life, I had something that belonged entirely to me. No pack alpha controlled it. No one could take it away to punish me. It was my blood, my sweat, and my time, converted into paper.

Next to the money sat a stack of heavy books. GED prep materials. College brochures. A notebook full of Mia’s messy, encouraging handwriting.

Elena had meant every single word. She and her husband were ready to help me pay for school. They were ready to help me build a real, independent future. But looking at those books, a heavy, unshakeable realization settled deep in my chest.

I couldn’t stay here.

Elena and her husband had saved my life. They had taken me in when I was a bleeding, terrified runaway from the werewolf underground, wandering the streets with absolutely nothing. They had given me a safe, warm room, hot food, and a job. But they were human. They had demanding, exhausting lives of their own. Elena ran a busy private clinic. Her husband was an obstetrician.

I was about to start studying. Hard. I would be up all night reading chemistry and history. And Luka was a growing baby. He cried. He woke up at 2 AM wanting a bottle. He was getting louder, more active, and more demanding.

My wolf stirred inside me. She was strong now. She was fully awake, humming a continuous rhythm of vitality in my veins. And she was urging me to build my own den. To protect my own pup. To stand completely on my own two feet without leaning on the charity of others, no matter how freely that charity was offered.

I pulled Mia’s borrowed laptop onto my lap and opened a new tab. I typed in "cheap apartments for rent."

The screen immediately populated with listings. Small studios. One-bedrooms. Cramped, old, a little worn down, but independent. My own front door. My own locks.

I clicked on a listing for a small place a few subway stops away. I was doing the math in my head—calculating rent, groceries, diapers, formula, and electricity—when the bedroom door suddenly swung open.

"I brought coffee!" Mia announced loudly.

She marched into the room holding two steaming mugs. Her dark hair was twisted into a chaotic, messy bun, and she was wearing one of her dad’s oversized college sweaters. She looked exhausted from her own med school prep, but she was smiling brightly.

She walked over to the bed and completely froze.

Her dark eyes dropped to the glowing laptop screen. Then to the pile of cash spread out on the blanket. Then back to the screen.

The cheerful smile vanished from her face instantly. The color actually drained from her cheeks.

"What are you doing?" Mia asked. Her voice went completely flat, losing all of its usual sarcastic bounce.

I quickly tried to close the laptop, guilt suddenly flashing hot in my chest. "Just... looking at some things."

"You’re looking at apartment listings." Mia slammed the two heavy ceramic mugs down on the nightstand. Hot coffee sloshed over the rims, pooling on the wood. She didn’t care. She spun back to me, her eyes wide with sudden, absolute panic. "Wait. Are you leaving us?!"

"Mia, please, keep your voice down," I whispered frantically, glancing anxiously at Luka’s bassinet. "You’ll wake him up."

"I don’t care! I’ll wake him!" she whisper-shouted, waving her hands wildly in the air. "Irina, what is this? Why are you looking at apartments? Did my dad say something? Did I do something? I know I leave my med school books everywhere, and I talk too much, but I’ll stop! I swear I’ll be cleaner!"

"No! Mia, stop." I reached out and grabbed her trembling hands. "Nobody did anything wrong. You and your family have been perfect. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. You’re my family."

"Then why are you trying to move out?" Her voice cracked. She looked genuinely heartbroken, like I had just slapped her.

I pulled her down to sit on the edge of the bed next to me.

"Because of this," I said softly, reaching over with one hand to tap the heavy stack of GED books. "I’m going to do it, Mia. I’m going to take your mom’s offer. I’m going to apply to school. But I have to be realistic about what that actually means."

"What does that have to do with renting a crappy studio apartment?" she demanded, jutting out her lower lip.

"It has everything to do with it." I looked her right in the eyes, refusing to back down. "If I do this, I’m going to be awake all night long. I’ll be studying at the kitchen table at three in the morning. I’ll be stressed, I’ll be pacing, and I’ll be exhausted. And Luka is a baby. He cries. He’s teething. He makes noise at all hours of the night."

"I don’t care about noise!" Mia argued stubbornly. "I study late too! We can be late-night study buddies!"

"But your parents do care," I said gently, squeezing her fingers. "Mia, your mom is an internist. Your dad is an OB delivering babies. They work incredibly long, grueling, high-stakes hours saving people’s lives. When they come home to this apartment, they need absolute peace. They need to sleep. It is completely unfair of me to turn their beautiful, quiet home into a chaotic dorm room with a crying baby."

Mia crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "They love Luka. They wouldn’t care."

"They wouldn’t say they care," I corrected her softly. "Because they are too kind and too generous. But I care. I have to be responsible."

I looked down at my hands. They were scarred, but they were steady.

"For my entire life, I was trapped," I whispered, the dark memories of the Iron Thorn pack house flashing vividly in my mind. "I was told where to sleep, what to wear, how to breathe. I was an omega. I had absolutely nothing that belonged to me. Then I ran, and I lived in pure terror. Now... now I’m free. But true freedom means standing on my own two feet. I need to prove to myself that I can provide a roof over my son’s head."

Mia sniffled loudly. Her tough exterior was cracking. "It’s going to be so hard, Irina. Rent in this city is insane. The money on this bed won’t last forever."

"I know," I said, my voice ringing with a firm, unbreakable resolve. "I’ll find another job. I’ll keep working at the clinic during the day, and I’ll find something flexible to do from home at night. I will find a place we can afford. I will make it work."

I leaned in and squeezed her hands tight again.

"But I am not disappearing," I promised her fiercely. "I will call you every single day. You are going to be Luka’s favorite aunt. You’re still going to tutor me in math because I am hopeless at fractions. I’m just getting my own space. That’s all. We are still going to be in each other’s lives."

Mia stared at me.

Her dark eyes were swimming in hot tears. Her lower lip quivered violently.

She hated it when I made logical sense. She hated change. But she also understood. She saw the fierce, unbending determination in my eyes. The wolf inside me was standing tall, projecting a calm, protective strength, and Mia could feel it. She knew I wasn’t running away out of fear anymore. I was moving forward out of strength.

A hot tear finally spilled over her lashes and tracked down her cheek.

"You’re a jerk," Mia choked out, her voice thick with emotion.

She threw her arms around my neck and pulled me into a fierce, crushing hug. I hugged her back just as hard, burying my face in the soft, warm fabric of her oversized sweater. She smelled like dark roast coffee and vanilla.

She sobbed loudly into my shoulder, completely abandoning any attempt to hold it together.

"Fine," Mia cried, her voice muffled against my neck. "Fine, you little jerk. But you have to find an apartment very, very close to me!"