Ruthless King (New Orleans Malones #4) Read Online Laylah Roberts

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Crime, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: New Orleans Malones Series by Laylah Roberts
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Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 122550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
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“Gracen’s worried about you.”

Regent closed his eyes. So that’s what this was all about. Lord save him from concerned, sweet, sisters-in-law-to-be.

“Tell Gracen she doesn’t need to worry. I am fine.”

“If you say so.”

“I do,” he said.

The rest of the drive was in silence. But something was gnawing away at his gut . . . a need.

A desire.

To see her. To ensure her safety. Her care.

To make her his.

Was Victor right?

She constantly infiltrated his thoughts. When he wasn’t thinking about Patrick, that was.

He’d wake up in the morning and the first thing he’d think about would be her. Whether she was all right. If she was eating properly. If she was being safe.

It still annoyed him that she was taking public transportation. He’d attempted to send Jose around to take her to and from work. But short of kidnapping her and throwing her in the car, he couldn’t actually force her to take the ride.

Fuck.

Was he really treating her like she was his, as Victor had said?

He was being ridiculously overprotective. Trying to force her not to take public transportation. Interfering with her job. Deciding what needed changing and improving in the house.

And he didn’t feel guilty about any of it. He wouldn’t go back and change anything.

As they parked in front of the house, he got out of the car and walked inside.

Victor disappeared upstairs to see Gracen while he headed into his study.

But he couldn’t settle.

Go around and see her.

No. He was supposed to be keeping his distance. Instead, he sent a text to Basilien.

His guys had been doing random drive-bys of her place. He’d just have them do one right now.

As he waited for a reply, he tried to do some work.

Frowning, he read Basilien’s reply twenty minutes later. She wasn’t home?

It was eleven. Where could she be? Getting up, he paced up and down his study.

He should have put a tracker on her. That way, he could always know where she was.

Not a bad idea.

Fuck. He wouldn’t be able to rest until he made sure that she was all right. After messaging Jose, he headed outside.

Regent was just going to go and make sure that she was all right.

There was nothing wrong with that. Right?

21

Where the fuck was she?

Okay. He knew he had no right to be angry that she wasn’t here. He sounded like a possessive asshole, even to him.

That’s because I am a possessive asshole.

She should be here, waiting for me.

Fuck.

He groaned to himself as he moved back to the car. Jose looked up at the house, then over at him. “What next, boss?”

“We wait.”

To his credit, Jose’s expression didn’t change. He simply nodded, then opened the back door. But as he did, a car turned the corner of the street. Jose quickly moved to cover him, his hand going to his gun.

“Get in, boss.”

Regent knew the drill.

His ego wasn’t so big that he couldn’t follow instructions for his safety. He’d never do anything to put Jose in danger by acting stupid.

But as the car came to a stop behind them, he paused. The back door opened and a seemingly drunk Jilly stumbled out.

“Thanks,” she said to the driver, who pulled away as soon as she shut the door.

What. The. Hell.

She stumbled as she moved along the footpath. Jose stepped away from him and toward her, holding a hand out.

“Do not touch her,” Regent barked at him.

His bodyguard immediately stepped back, his hands up in the air to placate Regent.

Yeah, he was acting like that possessive asshole he’d accused himself of being. But he couldn’t stand to have another person touch his girl.

Moving closer, he reached out for her as she took another step and nearly tripped . . . over nothing.

How much had she had to drink?

And what the fuck was she wearing? She had an oversized hoodie on, which reached to mid-thigh, and a pair of flip-flops.

“Where have you been?” he asked in a harsher voice than he’d intended.

She let out a scream, jumping away from him. Had she seriously just noticed that he was standing there?

How could she be so reckless as to get so drunk that she wasn’t even aware of her surroundings?

Not to mention getting into a car with someone he assumed was an Uber driver and, therefore, a stranger whom he hadn’t vetted.

From now on, he wasn’t allowing anyone near her who he hadn’t personally approved of.

And if she didn’t like that . . . well, she’d just have to suck up her protests because that was what was happening.

“Reggie. Veggie. Bobeggie.”

What the fuck was a bobeggie? She was practically slurring her words.

“How much have you had to drink?” he barked. “This is completely unacceptable. What were you thinking? Anything could have happened to you while you were this drunk!”

She wiggled her finger in the air as she attempted to stand still. But she kept swaying.



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