Cruel Tyrant Read Online B.B. Hamel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
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“One of my earliest memories is finding a pair of blood-covered boots under the stairs in the basement and asking my mom about them. Do you know what she said? She told me that little girls who ask too many questions end up just like those boots.” Tears clog my eyes and I hate myself for it. I wipe them away, annoyed with myself. “You know what’s messed up? Mom wasn’t even that bad. I think she was genuinely trying to warn me, because even little baby Stef would’ve gotten hit if she said the wrong thing to the wrong person, and my brothers couldn’t be around to protect me all the time.”

His hand brushes against mine. His fingertips trace a line along my wrist, up my forearm, and back down again.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” he says and his voice is like silk in the darkness. “My family wasn’t quite like yours. My father was a hard man to please, but he never used abuse and violence to teach his lessons, and my mother must be one of the most patient women on the face of the earth. The darkness in my past comes from everywhere but home.”

I smile and it’s a bitter feeling. “I’m jealous,” I admit. “I wish I had a place where I felt safe. I was trying to make something like that for myself, before—” But I stop myself from finishing that sentence, because what good will it do?

I was trying to build a life for myself. I was trying to find a home. I desperately wanted safety and comfort, but I’ve been dragged into this relationship instead with a man I don’t know in a city I’ve never even visited before.

“Maybe one day we can have something like that here,” he says and the warmth of his arm disappears from mine. It’s a strange loss and I want to grab him and pull him back, but before he retreats to his side of the bed, he leans over and presses his lips to the corner of my mouth.

It’s almost a kiss. Not quite on the cheek, not exactly on the lips, but a weird in-between like our relationship. Not really married, but also not-not-married.

I like the softness and warmth of him pressed against my skin, but as soon as he’s there, he pulls across the bed and disappears onto his pillow.

“I’ll tell you the story of what happened to me some other time,” he says, turning his back. “It’s your first night here. Try to get some sleep.”

I don’t know how he expects that to happen when all I can think about is his hand on mine, his mouth on my lips, my panties shoved between my teeth, pleasure racking my body in blissful waves, and the mind-numbing blank that comes from a toe-curling orgasm.

Chapter 11

Davide

The thumping from the trunk won’t shut the fuck up.

It’s late and there’s not much traffic as Bruno rolls the BMW toward our warehouse on the very edge of town. The old building practically straddles the city limits, and it’s located in a very conveniently abandoned stretch of road without any nearby neighbors. Typically, the place is used to house various goods that need to be discreetly moved, but a few summers back my brothers and I built a few soundproofed rooms on the second floor, converting the offices into what my brother Angelo used to refer to as the pleasure dome.

“You’ve been married for a couple days now,” Bruno says, trying to make conversation over the fucking racket coming from the back. “How’s that treating you? The girl’s doing good?”

I look out the window, trying to decide how to answer. Stefania seemed lost last night and I didn’t know how to make her feel better except to commiserate the best I could. Today, she wasn’t much better: she slept in late, didn’t seem interested in eating, and mostly wandered around the house peering into the cupboards and mumbling about open floor plans.

“I think we’re both getting acclimated,” I tell him and choose not to elaborate. Bruno glances at me and shrugs, since he knows me well enough not to press the point any further. He’s been working with me for over ten years now and he’s probably my closest friend at this point, if anyone could consider themselves my friend at all, which is a sad state of affairs. Bringing Stefania into my life is making me think about myself from her perspective, and I must look absolutely bizarre.

Bruno talks about a girlfriend he’s been dealing with, the same girl he’s been on and off with since forever, a real troublemaker named Mia that he met in one of our strip clubs. He got hooked on her, made her quit dancing, and has been supporting her ever since.


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