Hate Like Honey (Corsican Crime Lord #2) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Corsican Crime Lord Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
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He gnashes his teeth, no doubt biting back an insult.

“Play nice and nothing will change.” I pat his shoulder just because I know it’ll irk him. “The money will arrive as promptly as before.”

His nostrils flare. He hates that he’s dependent on me for a living.

“Say your goodbyes, cara,” I say without letting her go. “We have a plane to catch.”

Her family, those who are left, come up one by one to kiss her cheek. They all wear ghastly expressions.

Margaret pauses in front of her daughter. “Is it true?” Her features twist. “Did you sleep with him?”

“Mom.” Sabella wrings her hands together. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Enough,” I say with a grunt.

Margaret winces and moves on.

Colin is next. He appears apologetic. “Sabella, I—”

“I’m fine,” she says, trying to smile, but she doesn’t quite pull it off.

She’s anxious, as she should be. I still feel like offing the motherfucker with the soft hands who dared to try and steal her from me.

“Where’s your phone?” I ask my wife.

“I destroyed it,” she says, wrapping her free arm around her waist.

“Both of them?”

She nods.

My tone is curt. “Where’s your bag?”

“In the cry room.”

“Get it,” I say to a guard.

A moment later, he comes jogging with her suitcase and handbag.

I grip both in my free hand and tug her into motion.

Her family is still bundled together in the back of the church, huddling like sheep when I pull Sabella behind me down the aisle. A guard opens the doors. My driver is waiting. He loads our luggage in the trunk while I shove Sabella into the back of the car and slide in beside her, caging her between her side of the car and my body.

When we pull off and she flattens herself against the door, escaping me even in the confines of the small space, my fury ignites again.

At last, she’s mine, but it’s not the beginning I imagined. Our story doesn’t get a happy ending. In our case, we’re doomed to live unhappily ever after.

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

Sabella

* * *

Angelo is quiet in the car.

Too quiet.

I steal a glance at him. His features are set in hard lines. He’s never looked more like the angel his name implies, but it’s not a kind or gracious angel. He’s darkness and danger personified, both beautiful and cruel.

The suit fits him well. The tailored cut shows off the strong muscles underneath, leaving no doubt about his strength. Next to mine, his body is enormous, his masculinity sucking up all the energy in the space.

Now isn’t the moment to insist on favors, but I must know.

“My sister.” I lick my dry lips. “I want to know if she’s all right.”

He takes his phone from his pocket and unlocks the screen.

A ringtone sounds before a man says over the speaker, “Yes, sir?”

“Are you still at the clinic?” Angelo asks.

“I was just about to leave.”

“What’s the update?”

“They’ve been transferred from the delivery wing to a private room.”

I suck in a breath. Does that mean the baby is born?

“Send me the number,” Angelo says before ending the call.

A second later, his phone pings with a notification. He checks it before pushing on the green button. As if he can’t stomach the sight of my face, he barely looks at me when he hands me the phone.

I push it against my ear with a trembling hand.

Jared answers.

“It’s me. Sabella.” I dare another glance in Angelo’s direction. “How is she?”

“She’s fine.” He sounds happy, tired, and strained all at once. “It happened very fast. We almost didn’t make it to the clinic. It’s a boy.”

My chest deflates with a quiet sigh of relief. “Is he okay?”

“He’s perfect. We decided to call him Benjamin.”

A lump lodges in my throat. “I’m glad. My dad would’ve liked that. I’m sorry it happened like this. Will you tell Mattie I called? Please tell her I’m thinking of her. Of all three of you.”

“Are you okay, Bella?” he asks.

Angelo holds out his hand, still not looking at me.

“Yes,” I say quickly. “I have to go. Just tell her I love her.”

Angelo takes the phone and darkens the screen before pocketing it.

We drive the rest of the way to the airport in silence. The driver takes my suitcase and handbag as well as an overnight bag from the trunk. Angelo throws the sling of the bag over his shoulder and carries my suitcase and handbag in one hand while wrapping his free hand around mine.

The guards don’t follow us inside. They don’t have to. I’m not going to run. I made a deal, and as long as I uphold my end of the bargain, my family will be safe.

After showing his license, Angelo hands his gun in at the firearm desk. I’m surprised when he takes two passports from his bag, one for him and one for me. How did he manage to get mine? People turn their heads as we go through customs in our wedding attire. A few travelers come up to congratulate us, their smiles radiant. Our smiles are stilted in return. We keep up the pretense until we’re shown into a private lounge, and then we drop our masks.



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