Ravaged by Passion Read Online B.B. Hamel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
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He talks about importing and selling illegal drugs like it’s no big deal. I watch him, surprised but try not to let it show. I know this is dangerous—men like him rarely ever talk about their business in such stark, detailed terms—and the wrong move could make him suspect me in a way I really, really don’t want.

“Things are changing now.” His jaw tightens and so does his grip on the wheel. “Casso’s shifting our focus away from importing and distribution and more toward some of the legitimate businesses we’ve established. All the old ways are dying, and our people on the street are getting left behind.”

“Isn’t that good though? I mean, you don’t have to worry about getting arrested all the time.”

His lip curls and he shakes his head. “You’d think so. Casso would say yes, of course. But I’m not so sure.”

“Why? I don’t understand. You could die in jail if you get caught with those drugs.”

He dismisses that with a grunt. “It’s the risk we all accept when we get involved in this business.”

“Sounds like a risk you don’t need to take on.”

“If we go legit, we’ll be leaving dozens of men behind. We have capos, lieutenants, their soldiers and their families, all these people depend on us to earn for them. When we go legit, we’ll be leaving them all behind. They can’t work in a damn office, half the guys in my crew never graduated from high school. Hell, even if they could, they still wouldn’t. They work with me for a damn reason.”

I let out a soft breath. “You’re acting like these are decent people. They’re a bunch of criminals.”

His eyebrows raise. “I’m a criminal, princess. And if I recall correctly, you are too.”

“Don’t act like you’re the only one that knows people like them. I grew up in hell. I know what your soldiers are like.” I grind my teeth, trying not to get too angry, but I remember Mom’s string of worthless boyfriends and their friends coming through my house. Half of them were abusive to her and the other half tried to fuck me and I was only a little girl back then. I had to figure out how to keep them off me real fast. Mom was always too busy, or too enamored, or too high to notice what was going on, but I remember the handsy assholes that followed me into the bathroom, and her one boyfriend that stole underwear from my dirty laundry when I was thirteen. I remember, and I hate them for it.

But that’s not fair to Gavino. I don’t know if his people are the same ones that made my life hell. For all I know, he runs a crew of saintly drug dealers.

He grunts in reply. “All I’m trying to say is, Casso’s changing the direction the Famiglia’s headed in, and while I don’t agree with him, I also won’t outwardly oppose him.” He goes quiet for a moment and glances at me as he slows. We’re close to the villa now and I can practically see it nestled in its little valley between red-rock ridges. “But if you do something about Malcolm, I won’t stop you either.”

I frown at him. “What are you saying?”

“Take your shot, Jeanie. When you get it, take it.”

Chapter 14

Gavino

Jeanie’s quiet on our ride through the city the next day. She spent the night in her suite in the main house and didn’t leave. I have a few spies hidden in the staff and they feed me information when I ask for it, and they’re keeping an eye on her for me—just in case my family gets some ideas. I’m not about to start staying in the main house just because Jeanie’s there.

And it’s not that I think my own flesh and blood will do anything to hurt Jeanie, but they are protective of their children and the business, and I wouldn’t put it past them to grill the poor girl at the very least. I want to know if anyone pressures her into talking about something she’s not comfortable with so I can put a stop to that right away.

It’s early, and she seems tired. I roll the car along the heart of Phoenix’s business district, past glittering towers, alongside exhausted-looking workers trudging into their offices burdened with backpacks and briefcases, and slow as I reach an old, beat-up structure that looks like it was once a hotel. I park at the curb and kill the engine.

“What’s this?” Jeanie asks, frowning outside.

“This is the deal I’m trying to make with Malcolm.”

Her jaw drops. She blinks and shakes her head. “It looks like a motel from the fifties. What’s it even doing here?”

I laugh softly and lean over her, looking out her window at the crumbling light blue facade and the pale, peeling doorways. “That’s exactly what it was. The place got shut down about ten years ago after the cops raided it and found half the rooms were being used for prostitution and the other half were being used to make and sell meth. Now it’s just an empty eyesore in the heart of the damn city.”



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