God of War (Legacy of Gods #6) Read Online Rina Kent

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: Legacy of Gods Series by Rina Kent
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Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 156392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 782(@200wpm)___ 626(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
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I might be a clusterfuck internally, but I’m the epitome of a social butterfly and the media’s darling. So, of course, I’m an asset.

“Hey, Sam.” I finger some tulip seeds after I lay them on a plate. I’ve been told not to even attempt to grow them as an amateur, but I’ve never liked being told what to do and I’m always up for a challenge.

“Yes?”

“How long are you going to hide the alcohol from me?”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” Her eyes are zeroed in on her crochet, which gives no clue about what she’s trying to make. Maybe a witch’s cloak for her Halloween costume—sorry, I meant everyday clothes.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed there isn’t a drop of alcohol in the house.”

“Is that so?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And that’s a problem because?” She drags her eyes to mine, pinning me down like I’m a petulant child.

I narrow my eyes back. “I need to loosen up. You know, considering I’m living with an absent husband and all.”

“I thought you were, and I quote, ‘So happy I didn’t see the devil’s face this morning. Made my day. I should celebrate.’”

“Were you eavesdropping on me when I was in the wardrobe?”

“I was there to collect your clothes and you made sure I heard your musings. Which I repeated back to him as you intended, miss.”

My cheeks warm up and I growl softly. If Eli doesn’t drive me insane, his precious Sam definitely will.

“You know what? Forget it. Have a lovely time making your entry ticket into the witch coven.”

I remove my gloves and dump them in the box at my feet, then turn to leave the greenhouse.

Henderson mentioned this place was my idea, but I have no clue why. Yes, it’s pink and I can practice my gardening skills, but as I shimmy out of my apron and wellies, I realize its purpose could’ve been to allow me to kill my only passion in life.

Music.

I feel like I haven’t touched my cello in years.

“Where are you going?” Sam asks.

“Out. And stop acting like my warden!”

I put on my cute pumps with crystal jewels on the heels. Six inches. All ready to be shoved up the arse of anyone who tries to stop me.

My strides are determined as I go to the house, freshen up, change into a skintight silver dress, grab a purse that matches my shoes, and stroll to the huge car garage.

I tried to take it slow over the past week even though Cecy was still in town, and now I’m a bit heartbroken that she left yesterday since, boo-fucking-hoo, her stupid fiancé can’t cope without her for a whole week.

What a baby.

Anyway, I told them to keep my fall down the stairs a secret from everyone else because I didn’t want to worry them.

Now, I regret it big time because my only genuine company is my little sister, who’ll snitch to Papa if he as much as glowers at her. She’s such a daddy’s girl.

Oh, and Sam.

I smile at the image of her dancing in a club while wearing a witch cape.

I pause upon seeing the garage that’s filled with a dozen cars you’ll never see on the market. Sports, luxury, and…oh, my heart! A soft-pink special edition Mercedes!

My feet take me to the beauty and I snap a few pictures and then snap some selfies while hugging the distinguished lady.

“You also feel out of place here, sis?” I pat the car. “Don’t worry, I’ll save you.”

Maybe I can take this to my parents’ house. Surely, Eli won’t notice the loss of one car when he has so many of them. Besides, he’s usually driven around, so I bet he never comes out here.

“I will drive you, Mrs. King.”

I startle at the ghost of Henderson appearing out of nowhere. Considering all the times he materializes out of thin air, one would think I would’ve gotten used to the man’s silent attitude and forgettable presence.

“Do you and Sam have trackers that give away my location?” I peek at him. “Because this is starting to become creepy.”

“Please follow me.”

“I will drive myself.”

“Mr. King wouldn’t approve of that.”

“Then you go to your Mr. King and ask him to tell me so himself instead of using middlemen. Not that I’d listen.”

I stride to the key cabinet, grab the one for the Mercedes, then slide inside and take a few pictures of the beautiful off-white interior. Once I’m satisfied, I start the car and kick it into gear, but as I approach the garage door, it remains closed.

Gritting my teeth, I roll my window down and stare at Henderson. “Open it.”

He’s standing to the side in his smart casual suit, no tie, with both his hands clasped in front of him. “If you could come out, I will drive you.”

“I said I’ll do it myself.”

“I’m afraid you’re not allowed to drive.”



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