 by Jane Henry.jpg)
Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Hotter than hell and maddeningly dominant, he’s suddenly in my world on the regular: in my massage studio, at my daughter’s preschool, on my front porch, in my every waking thought…
Why me?
I’m a rule follower. A single mom just trying to make ends meet who was not looking to hook-up with anyone… much less a King of the Boston Underworld who makes his own rules.
Every fiber of my being screams at me to run.
But instead...
I kneel.
I submit.
I plummet headlong into a love affair with the most dangerous man I’ve ever met, a man who’s clearly keeping secrets.
I know Ricco Montavio breaks people for a living.
I can only hope his secrets don’t break me.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER ONE
NUMBER 12
Ricco
Twilight paints the Boston skyline in shades of blue as I walk down the street toward Bella Notte. The smell of hotdogs, popcorn, and roasted nuts fills the air—the street vendors of the city of Boston scraping for a few more sales before they call it a night. To my left sits a kiosk with Boston Strong T-shirts, and to the right, a bunch of knock-off Red Sox ball caps. I breathe in the air, thick with the smell of exhaust, because there's always traffic in Boston. But damn, I have to admit, it feels good. I've missed the city. It's why I took the long way to the club.
I swipe my phone on and call my sister.
“Hi, Ricco,” Vivia says, her voice laced with humor. “If you’re wondering if Marco has somehow woken up or gotten gravely ill in the twenty minutes since your last call, the answer is no.”
I grunt and mutter something about just checking in.
My hair still damp from a shower, I run my fingers through it and walk as casually as I can. I don’t want attention.
I stretch my neck and flex my limbs, sore from today's workout. I pretend I’m not anxious about my son.
“Hey,” she says gently. “I know it’s the first time you’ve left him alone since—in a long time,” she amends. Why do people hesitate to say the name of the person who died?
“Since Martina died, yeah,” I say, sudden anger flaring in my chest. I turn the corner and start walking down the street where Bella Notte’s discreetly tucked in, nearly invisible to the untrained eye but clear enough for those that seek refuge within its walls.
There's a crowd outside of Bella Notte.
Fuck.
There's never a crowd outside.
“Thanks, Viv. I gotta go. Something’s up at the club.”
I unzip my hoodie, making sure that the tattoos along my neck and shoulders are visible. Sometimes, when people don't know who I am, a quick glance at the tats that declare me a Montavio is all it takes.
“Fuccck,” I mutter when I come into closer view of the club.
I’ll need more than the family crest.
I keep my eyes sharp, scanning Bella Notte’s illuminated entrance. The club’s exterior neon lights cast an eerie glow on the street, and a few people are loitering around, some puffing on cigarettes. My gaze narrows in on a guy who looks out of place. He's eyeing the entrance, checking his surroundings with a subtle twitch of his fingers, betraying his nerves as he faces off against my brother.
Hotheaded, loyal, and the guy you’d most want at your back in a fight, my youngest brother Timeo’s done it again. But damn if he hasn't been at the center of every single fucking altercation we've had in the past six months.
The air outside Bella Notte grows thicker with tension the closer I get. I'm on edge, the cool breeze doing nothing to ease the knot in my gut. My instincts never lie, and this guy doesn't pass the test.
"Well, maybe you should've kept a better fucking eye on her!”
Jesus.
I don't recognize the big guy Timeo’s snarling at but do note that even though Timeo’s tall and built, this guy’s no pushover. And he isn’t alone.
"I kept a good eye on her,” he snarls back, advancing on Timeo. “She's the little shit that ran away."
I’d bet half my kingdom the “little shit’s” Starla, and this asshole was supposed to be watching her.
I’d bet the other half that Timeo’s gonna cut this motherfucker.
Here we go.
I run.
A crowd surrounds the two as Timeo decks him.
Fists fly. Onlookers cheer and scream and leer. I zero in on Timeo. I’d knife a motherfucker to death before I’d let anyone hurt my brother.
Timeo’s still standing and he’s knocked three down when I get to him, but they’re not giving up. These assholes came here looking for a fucking fight.
Shit. My first night back and I’m gonna get fucked up. My only job now is to make sure these motherfuckers end up more fucked up than I am.
I grab the biggest by the back of the shirt and haul him back. “Get off him," I growl. "Hit him again and you're fucking done."
I toss another one to the curb and grab Timeo by the arm. I start to shove him behind me when a piercing pain hits me across the back of my neck. I stifle a scream and go down.
Sons of bitches packed a pair of brass knuckles.
I come up swinging this time and nail the asshole who got me right in the jaw.
As he takes another step, I don't hesitate. Instinct takes over. I move swiftly, grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back. But he's quicker than I anticipated, a gleaming knife suddenly in his hand, aimed for my gut.
Time slows. My heart races. I react, deflecting his blade with my forearm, the steel grazing my skin. Adrenaline surges through me as I shove him away, creating some distance between us.