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 agree, sir.”

Farren grits out, “Sir, I’m tracking her card. She used it on a cab, and I have the driver down in the basement. He swears he dropped her off two blocks away, but after that, her card was used at a clothing store. It was closed when we got there.”

The boiling in my stomach, simmers over.“Fuck you and your stupidity!” I punch him hard, his head flying back and hitting the bulletproof glass so hard his brain must rattle. I release his neck, and he falls to the ground.

I turn, rubbing the throb between my eyes. One hand on my hip, I think about what to do.

Why would she run from me? Where is she going? Something in me feels different, and that just adds to how beyond angry and out of control I am. Regardless of where we stand currently, I still hate the knowledge that she’s out there in the night, a moving target.

Why do I care? If she wants to act stupid and like a madwoman, then I should let her. But—I can’t. Why is she crawling in my skin and affecting me? I am spiraling into fucking madness.

“Her phone. Check her phone.”

“She left it at home, sir,” Farren groans out, standing slowly.

Smart woman. My wife isn’t a fool and would know better than any other woman in the world how to outrun the mafia… for now.

I will find her, and when I do… goddammit, when I do—

“Sir! There she is,” Giulio cuts in, pointing out the window and down to the dance floor.

I spot her instantly, dressed in a sequin dress that catches the strobing lights. I can see nearly all of her back, the material only covering her ass, and the front dips low, showing all her cleavage and hanging on by a mere scrap around her neck. Her hair is down and curled, her makeup soft, but her lips are painted a bold red. But the biggest concern above all of that is who she’s dancing with.

“Are those the Dean brothers?” I grit out.

Watching my wife dance and grind her body against three men I have been looking for brings on a whole new level of insanity I have never felt. They stole from us, roughed up some of our dancers, and killed a few of my men, including Giulio's brother. We have been hunting them since they took off from Seattle. Now, here they are, in my club, dancing with my fucking wife.

They must be fucked up on hardcore shit to think coming to my place of business was wise. Did they think they wouldn’t be caught? God, I swear men like that take all the fun out of the job by making it so easy to find them.

“That’s them, sir. They must not know you own this club. Or they’re high out of their minds and have no idea.”

“They just stepped into the lion's den.” I watch them dance with her and take notice of my entire body tensing and growing angrier with each passing moment.

“They’re touching her, sir. She’s in distress. Want me to stop them?” Farren’s voice seems to come from far away as I watch her try to fight them off.

I’m on the dance floor in what feels like minutes, but really, it's less than one. I push through the crowd, hearing Giulio and Farren ordering people to leave, but I have my eyes on Emelia. She’s yelling for the brothers to stop, and I pick up the pace. When I reach them, I wrap one arm around her waist and pull out my gun, extending my arm straight out beside her head. She looks up and back, finding it’s me, and I feel her entire body go lax for a moment before she tenses once again.

People start to scream when they see my gun, and the Dean brothers suddenly realize where they’ve landed themselves.

In fucking hell.

“Nico!” she cries.

“I will handle you in a minute.”

The three skinny, crackhead brothers turn to disperse and run, but Giulio and Farren are right behind them. Realizing they’re stuck in place, they begin to apologize, but it lands on deaf ears. They were as good as dead when they messed with my business and Giulio's family, but now they’ve messed with what’s mine.

They touched my wife.

They made her feel unsafe.

And this provoked me.

“Shut up.” More of my men now surround each exit as the club empties. The dancers have left the stage and head back to their dressing rooms. Now, it’s my wife, me, half of my closest army… and some of my very unfortunate enemies.

“Nico. Please,” she begs, and I tighten my grip on her waist.

“You will receive your punishment when I’m done.” The three men in front of me all look at one another and around the room—trying to find an escape, I’m sure.



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