Taken By The Mafia Lord - Chapter 899 Daniel Was Gone

The eldest son of the assassin aristocrat Tuatha Dé.

The skill, experience, knowledge of the previous life, magic, all of which grows his power as an assassin.

Excellent assassins pass through. He was usually admired as the ideal lord, and behind it wielded a blade as an assassin aristocrat.

Hey Guys, this story is written by Sinyk on fanfic net. This is not my work. The only reason I am putting this up is because someone has copied Sinyk's entire work word-for-word on this site (claiming it as his own: Harry Potter and the 7 angers), releasing it at a snail's pace, and is also making money off of it on patreon. Pisses me off to no end.Art is by CruderFive1 on DeviantArt-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Okay, guys and... guyettes,This one is of epic length. And by that I mean really really long. For those who sent me a note about 'Four Heirs' and thought it long - well, this one blows that one out of the water for length. So, if something only up to - say - 150k words is your cup o' tea, then this isn't for you. No sir-ree! This story hits approximately 480k words.To stop all the whining and bitching right now - yeah, like that's ever going to happen - you'll figure out this is a 'Haphne' story; Dumbledore is (somewhat) good but still manipulative as per canon; Ron's an ineffective non-entity; Snape tries to keep sticking his beak in - and get's it repeatedly thwacked with a rolled-up newspaper; McGonagall gets over her hero-worship of DumDum (I mean, Dumbledore); Hermione is a good friend; Sirius is free; kids are kids; and teenagers are walking bags of hormones.The story follows canon a lot; and I've even included many quoted sections out of the books. I didn't do this to pinch JKR's works. Rather, it's in there to demonstrate similarities while being a different story. So, no biatching about that, either. You've been well and truly warned.Yours,Da crazy bastard who thinks he's an author.

“I, Lethia Ashcroft, accept your rejection, soon-to-be Clown Alpha of the Rotten Obsidian Pack, as my ungrateful mate. May your divorced life find its hellhole.”*****Year 2666.Werewolves and their kin have long embraced civilization, seamlessly blending into the high-tech world alongside humans.It is the year Lykon Haven hosts its once-in-seven-year event to select a new leader—one who will govern the shifting dynamics of werewolf packs across the country.It is also the year Lethia Ashcroft faces the ultimate humiliation when her mate, her husband, rejects her because of the infidelity she never committed.It cost her the inheritance she and her late father had worked so hard for.When she tries to flee exile while pregnant, she is caught in an accident—one that leaves her possessed by a seductive spirit fox.The creature needs a vessel to ignite her beads and, in exchange, grants Lethia the power to protect her unborn child.But that untamed spirit entangles her with three dangerously irresistible Lycans from Lykon Haven—men who have severed themselves from the fated mate bond.A stoic, protective doctor.A brooding, dominant businessman.A charming, playful celebrity.All Lethia wants is to reclaim what was rightfully hers and live a peaceful and comfortable life, alone with her baby. And she must get it—no matter what.But the mischievous Moon Goddess seems to take great pleasure in twisting her fate.

“I hesitated before, I turned back to face my shred of hope, yet still no one cared.”“Later the thick fog arose, you said you loved me so much, but why is your love even fainter than the fog, so faint that I can’t even see it clearly.”