Scarred Wife (Villains #1) Read Online Sam Crescent

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia, Novella, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Villains Series by Sam Crescent
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Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
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“It’s fine. You are going to find her, and it will all be okay.” She nodded her head and got back to her sauce. The scent of garlic was making her mouth water.

Next, some wine and tomatoes, followed by just a little chicken stock. The sauce smelled amazing and was bubbling. Next, the chicken. She had a small skillet heating on the stove, and she added the oil.

While it was getting to the temperature she needed, she dunked her chicken in flour, then into a beaten egg, followed by the seasoned breadcrumb mixture. She did this with all four pieces, and got them into the oiled skillet to cook.

Next, she turned on the broiler. She was going to top these beauties with even more cheese, which she did, a beautiful combination of mozzarella and parmesan. So good.

The pasta was cooked, the sauce ready, and the chicken finishing under the broiler. She got it all ready and took it to the table. A large platter filled with pasta, sauce, and topped with cheesy chicken. Vanessa’s mouth was watering, and she grabbed herself a huge plateful. The temptation to take more than one piece of chicken was strong, but she ignored it.

She sat down, said a quick prayer, and then opened her eyes, only to freeze in place. Diago had stepped into the room. He didn’t terrify her, but the blood soaking through his clothing did.

“Diago—”

“I’m starving.”

That was all he said as he moved past her, taking a seat at the head of the table, and reaching over to grab a large serving. Diago didn’t even hesitate in grabbing a second piece of chicken.

At first, all Vanessa could do was marvel at him as he took a large bite, and she watched him close his eyes.

Did he like it? Or was he just hungry?

Ask him. Start finding out what he wants you to do. Don’t be a coward.

Vanessa picked up her fork and twirled some pasta onto it. She looked at the blood. What if he was bleeding?

She wasn’t an idiot, and knew she had more freedom in the last twenty-four hours of being taken by him, than she did in the last twenty-five years with her parents. It was a horrible thought, but she didn’t want him to die, or be hurt. She did feel it was for a selfish reason, but it was still a good reason.

“Are you hurt?” she asked.

Diago turned and stared at her for many seconds. She didn’t know if she had just made the biggest mistake of her life.

****

“Are you hurt?”

It was such a simple question and Diago imagined there were a lot of people who were able to answer it without worry or concern, who could simply say yes or no.

He wasn’t hurt. The blood was from the man he’d killed in the alleyway.

He’d gone to Tara with the news and the details she needed, and she’d thanked him and sobbed. Diago had left, as he didn’t give a fuck. Payment had already been made, Tara was a happy customer, and he didn’t give a shit about anything else.

Driving home covered in blood hadn’t been his brightest idea, but he wasn’t going to change it. When he entered his home, he hadn’t even realized how hungry he was until he smelled what Vanessa was cooking.

Occasionally throughout the day, he’d checked in on her to see what she was doing through the many cameras he had dotted about the place. The truth was, she couldn’t go anywhere without him knowing about it. There was no privacy in his home, and that was the way he liked it.

“No, I’m not hurt,” he said.

“Oh,” Vanessa said. Her gaze fell toward his shirt. “That’s good.”

“It’s not my blood.”

“I figured.”

Diago found himself smiling as he watched her eat. “You’re not curious about whose it is?”

She lifted her head and shook it. “No.”

This intrigued him. Vanessa was one of the nicest women in the Italian mafia. Even when men and women were insulting her, she didn’t take offense. He didn’t know if he liked that about her.

Everyone had commented on her scar and how they didn’t want to get married because of it. Yet, Vanessa had shown no signs of being upset or hurt. She had simply accepted it, even though her father at every turn had tried to sell her off.

“I killed someone tonight,” he said.

“Fine.”

Diago watched her and saw the frown appear on her face, before she lowered her hand from taking another bite of the delicious food.

“What am I doing here?” Vanessa asked.

He stared at her.

“Seriously? You’re going to give me the silent treatment, when all I am doing is asking a logical question?”

Again, he stayed silent.

She growled. “I don’t get what it is you want from me. What exactly do I have to do? Am I just to wander around bored out of my mind? Do I even have a room to sleep in? Do I … do anything? What is my role?” she asked.



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