Arranged Deception Read Online C.C. Monroe

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
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I do my best not to think of Nico during the rest of my shower, but I can't help it. He’s all I can think about, and I scold myself. Stepping out, I towel off, put on my nightly moisturizer, brush my teeth, and then make my way into the bedroom to get dressed. I pick out my clothes, but before I can step into them, I’m interrupted by the man I didn't want to think about for the rest of the night.

I swear he must have known.

When I see him, I see exactly what I was ruminating on earlier—I see the devil in the flesh. Nico has transformed into something I have never seen before, an evil that haunts only nightmares.

“Get dressed. We have plans,” he bites out and turns fast on his heel, leaving me in the dust.

“Nico! Where are we going? It's late!” I call after him, scared by the look he just gave me.

Did my father call?

Does Nico know, and now I’m going to die?

My stomach turns, and I feel it bottom out and bile rising to the surface. I feel so much fear in this moment that I don’t even remember how to breathe in and out, and I choke out a cough, gasping for air.

“No.” I continue to grasp onto what feels like brief intervals of oxygen I may not get another chance to take. Dressing in jeans and a white tee with some slip-on Converse happens all in a blur. I don't know how I did it, or recollect any moment of it, but I’m dressed.

On shaky legs, I step out into the hall and make my way to the elevator where I know he will be waiting for me. I didn't even bother to brush my hair or dry it. I just tossed it over my shoulders and tried to get to him before he came looking for me again.

When I see him at the elevator, I take in what he’s wearing. He must have dressed in his office. I know he has a wardrobe in there, because he isn’t in the sweats he was wearing when he left the room. He’s now in shiny pointed shoes and dress pants. His top half is covered in a white button-up that is tucked into his pants, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, his gun holster completing the look. My heart rate continues to rise, never once falling or leveling out. I think I might just have a heart attack.

“Relax, Emelia. You look like you just woke from the dead,” he tells me, and I swallow thickly.

“And you look like you want to kill me.”

He chuckles, and it's menacing.“Far from it, Emelia. Tonight is all about taking care of you and protecting you. So you can take a breath.”

I literally do that. I gasp so loud and bend over, dropping my hands to my knees and sucking in as much air as I can.

“Emelia? What's wrong? Are you all right?” Nico’s voice is worried, and accompanied by his gentle hand on my back, I almost start to cry.

I’ve never been more afraid in my life, and now I have to think up a lie.

“You looked at me like my father always did before he would hurt me. I was worried I upset you somehow,” I say through my panting. And it's not a total lie. I have seen looks almost as painfully terrifying on my father’s face.

“Emelia, breathe, principessa.” He moves the hair that has fallen in my face and kneels down on his haunches. Our eyes lock, and I swear I can see humanity in there.

He has to be developing a soft spot for me. He has to. I know this, because he went from looking like I was his next target to maim, to genuinely worried. I keep my eyes on him, and I finally say it.

“I don’t know how to trust anyone,” I admit.

“You can trust me. As long as I can trust you.”

Guilt builds in my stomach. I’m lying to him by not telling him that just like he had plans, so did I. It wouldn't matter so much if he never confessed his, but now it does. The playing field isn't even.

“In fact, tonight, I will prove how much you can trust me,” he adds, and I want to inquire how he plans to do that, but I need a fucking minute. I can only reply with a simple nod. That's all I can muster up at the moment.

The elevator opens, and when we step inside, I take a place next to him.

“Tell me about Damian. How long were you two together?”

That was a curveball. Where is this coming from?

“What? Why does it matter?” I ask, looking at him with an incredulous expression.

“I want to know what he meant to you, Emelia. Answer the question.”



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