Claimed By The Alpha, Marked By The Biker-Chapter 15: The anonymous Behind all rumors

Kianna’s Pov:

I gushed awake abruptly and sat on the bed.

"Can you hear me Kianna?" The voice came through again. This time I recognized it immediately. It was Mordred’s.

I sighed with relief and went to unlock the door. He stood there, still in his dark clothes, hair slightly messy and the edge of exhaustion softening his sharp features.

"I didn’t mean to wake you," he said quietly. "Just wanted to make sure you’re okay before I crash."

I nodded, my lips curving into a faint smile. "I’m fine. Just... can’t believe any of this happened today." I replied, stepping aside.

He stepped inside, glancing around the room like he needed to be sure everything was safe. "You should rest," he murmured, his voice gentler now. "You’ve been through enough tonight."

Why’s he acting as if he’s my boyfriend for real? Is he that into it? Or I’m just overthinking it.

I sat on the bed, pulling the blanket up to my lap. "And you? Aren’t you tired too?" I asked him, raising a brow.

He gave a half shrug and tilted his head, as if quite satisfied about my question, before replying. "I’ve had worse nights, this one is manageable."

Offcourse he’s someone who could actually kill. I’m not so sure about myself but one thing is for sure, staying away from him will be as impossible as being loved by Maddox.

I watched him as he pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down beside me, arms folded, gaze distant. The quiet stretched between us, broken only by the soft hum of the wind outside.

"You don’t have to stay here," I said softly. "I’ll be fine."

His lips twitched into the faintest smirk. "I know. But I’m staying anyway."

For some reason, that simple sentence made my chest tighten. He leaned back, eyes still on me, and for a moment the fierce, cold mafia boy looked almost peaceful.

Within minutes, the tension of the night began to fade. My eyes grew heavy, and the last thing I saw before sleep pulled me under was Mordred — sitting silently by my side, watching over me like some dark guardian.

The Next Morning,

When I woke up, the sunlight streamed through the thin curtains. The chair beside my bed was empty, but a tray sat on the small table filled with a warm breakfast, a toast, and a cup of coffee that still steamed.

My chest fluttered at the thought. He actually stayed until I fell asleep and got me breakfast the next morning? Wow, he’s not that bad Kianna.

I caught myself grinning foolishly before I got up, stretched, and reached for my phone on the nightstand — only to freeze when the notifications started flooding in.

20 missed calls, 45 messages and 7 tagged posts. Some from classmates, friends and offcourse haters as well.

I frowned, what the hell is happening? I hope everything is alright. And with that I quickly opened the school forum app, and my stomach dropped.

There it was — post after post, photo after photo.

"Rich Girl Drama: Mafia Boy Saves His Girlfriend?"

"Kianna Martin caught up in a family gunfight!"

"Who is Mordred Sinclair really?"

Videos of the chaos at the mansion. Blurry pictures of Mordred carrying me out. Even one of us on his motorbike. The captions were wild, twisted versions of the truth.

And the worst part? The post was uploaded by Anonymous again. The same person who uploaded a photo of Maddox and Mordred fighting in front of my dorm.

No one knew who this person was, but they always posted things no one else could possibly know. Scandals, secrets, and now... this.

My pulse spiked as I scrolled through the comments.People were calling me reckless, dramatic, even saying I staged it all for attention. As if I wanted them to know.

Whoever this Anonymous person is, I feel like they’re preying on my personal life. But who exactly will do this?

My head began aching and spinning with all sorts of thoughts. But just when I was about to be drowned in it completely my phone began ringing.

I checked the screen and the name popped up, Lysander.

I swiped to pick up, trying my best to sound okay, I whispered softly.

"Hello?"

"Kianna! Did you see it? The whole forum’s going crazy! What the hell happened last night? Are you okay?" His warm, gentle but a bit anxious voice came through quickly.

"I’m fine." I replied, pacing the room. "Just a bit tired, I’ll tell you everything when I come back to school."

"Ahhh, thank goodness you’re okay." he said, " But do you know the person who uploaded this footage? I was trying to get them to take it down, but their name is Anymonous." He added in concern.

Even he is confused just like I am right now. "I don’t know.. lysan." I whispered, covering my eye with my left palm.

" Whoever they are, they were there last night and probably saw everything unfold."

"Do you think it’s someone from the house? Or..." Lysander hesitated. "Someone close to you?"

I froze. My mind instantly went to the people who could’ve known — Maddox, the guards, maybe even... Mordred?

No, he wouldn’t. Would he? I mean it’s stupid to think of it. Why would he make scandals about the two of us for fun? It doesn’t make any sense. Probably Mordred, he has a valid reason to mess with my reputation.

Before I could think further, the door opened quietly behind me. Mordred stepped in, phone in hand, his expression unreadable.

"We need to talk," he said. "About whoever posted that."

I turned, pulse still uneven from the shock of everything. His face was calm, but his eyes were cold and focused, like he’d already made ten calculations in his head.

But before I could respond, Lysander’s voice came through from my phone.

"Hello? Hello, Kianna, are you okay? Who’s that? Hello?"

I couldn’t respond, so I ended the call with a swipe. Then I finally lifted my head to stare at Mordred properly.

"You must be very annoyed.." I said softly,like I don’t already know he is.

He nodded once, jaw tight. "I am not just annoyed but feel threatened. And I already contacted someone to trace the source. It’ll take a while, but we’ll know who this bastard is soon enough."

I blinked in awe. Of course he did, what else do I expect from someone like him.

"So how are we going to track the person down? And how sure are you that this person could be tracked?" I asked him.

He walked closer, resting one hand on the table beside the untouched breakfast. "This isn’t some random gossip, Kianna. The footage was taken from an angle only someone inside the mansion could’ve had access to."

My heart skipped. "You mean... someone from my house? You must be joking."

"Either that," he said darkly, "or someone who’s been following us for a long time."

The words made my skin crawl. I grabbed my phone, scrolling through the endless comments again — liar, drama queen, fake heiress. It was like the whole internet wanted to see me fall.

"This is insane," I murmured, rubbing my temple. "Why would anyone go this far just to humiliate me?"

His gaze softened slightly. "Because you’re not just you anymore, Kianna. You’re my problem now. And whoever did this knows that."

Before I could answer, his phone buzzed. He swiped it, pressing it to his ear. "Talk."

He listened silently for a few seconds, his expression darkening. Then, with a sigh, he muttered, "Patch me through."

I watched him, anxious. "Who is it?" I asked him.

"The hacker," he said after a moment, turning the speaker on. A distorted voice male voice came through, It was cool but slightly robotic.

He began,

"Sinclair, I tried tracing the origin. Whoever this ’Anonymous’ is, they’re a ghost. No metadata, no digital trail. The uploads are rerouted through multiple encrypted channels."

"So you can’t find them?" Mordred asked, voice laced with irritation. And he began pacing to and fro in the room.

"No one can. Whoever this person is, he or she is brilliant. Smarter than most professionals I’ve seen. It’s like they want you to chase them." the voice replied.

"Shittttt!" Mordred yelled and hit the wall with his fits.

"What the heck, Mordred calm down! Are you crazy?"

I yelled at him. His chest was rising and falling with breathless gasps.He was so tense, you could see his knuckles looked pale and was bleeding around his phone.

Gosh, how will I manage to take care of someone like him? He’s so unpredictable. I really want to tell, scream and scold him for his terrible anger control.

But anyways, I need to chill first. I can’t worsen the situation by scolding him.

"Calm down Kianna, he’s a spoiled biker mafia. Don’t let him get mad at you." I whispered under my breath. Still staring at him.

He exhaled deeply and ran his hands through his hair. Before turning back to the phone.

"Keep digging," he ordered coldly, then ended the call.

"So, we’re just supposed to wait?" I asked calmly, trying not to sound desperate or weird.

Then he finally looked at me, eyes burning with determination. "No. Waiting isn’t my thing."

He took a step closer until his presence filled the space around me, his scent was dark, clean and intoxicating — wrapping around my senses.

"I’ll find a way," he said quietly. "But for now, we stay away from campus. The last thing I need is you walking into a sea of gossip and vultures."

That made my lips part slightly. Who does he think he is?My guardian?But I guess I have no choice either way.

" For how long?" I asked him.

"Until I say it’s safe." His tone left no room for argument. "I’ll handle the media, the posts and everything. You just..." he paused, gaze softening slightly...."stay where I can see you."

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "You sound like you own me."

He tilted his head, eyes glinting. "Maybe I just don’t like seeing you get hurt."

Damn, that was random. The air thickened, humming between us. He broke eye contact first, running a hand through his messy hair again before turning toward the door.

"I’ll come back tonight. Don’t open the door for anyone except me." he murmured, then closed the door behind him. Leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne and a racing storm in my chest.

Why does he always find a way to catch me off guard? It’s unsettling. And why the hell does I always feel flattered when he speaks like that? Kianna, come back to your senses girl.

I slapped myself on the cheeks, then sank right back onto the bed, exhaling shakily.

"Haa, thanks to that Anonymous bastard, I can’t even go to school."

Whoever he or she is, they are not just some bored student, they are watching my every move. And somehow... I feel like they’re closer to me than I think.

They should keep hiding, because the moment I get hold of that stalker. One of us will definitely end up in the hospital.