Claimed by The Killer Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Funny, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
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“Where is he, anyway?”

“Getting me a laptop. I may have a way to fight back against the mob. Use their financial records against them.”

I walk over to him, place my hand on his shoulder. “You can talk to me, Dad. However you know Luke, I won’t judge you—”

Dad spins on me. His eyes are glistening, as if he’s holding back tears. The sight plucks at the heavy sense of tragedy weighted in my chest.

“He’s not a complete stranger,” Dad snaps, “but that’s all I’m willing to say.”

“But—”

“No, Violet. Listen to me. When I look at myself in the mirror, I see your dad. That’s it. I don’t see a man anymore. I see your father. I’ve worked hard ever since your dear mother… I worked hard to give you a life I never had. Now I’m asking you, please, just forget about this. At least until this madness is over. At least until I can explain properly.”

If it wasn’t for the glistening in Dad’s eyes, the agony in his voice, I’d press for more information, but I can’t do that to him.

“Okay,” I say reluctantly. “I don’t want to upset you.”

Dad nods, returning to the table, and I’m left with countless questions swirling around my mind. One is louder than them all.

If Dad and Luke already know each other—which they clearly do—what does that mean for me and Luke?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Luke

Once I bring Andrew the laptop—thinking of him with that name makes it easier not to slip—he locks himself in his bedroom, tapping loudly at the keyboard.

I give the perimeter another search, checking the sensors, then return to find Violet sitting at the table with her textbook open. She doesn’t see me right away as I stand on the porch, watching her.

She’s so beautiful with her hair tied up, a few messy spirals here and there, tempting me. She bites her lip, tapping her pen against the table, the sleeves of her hoodie pulled up around her wrists, making her look cuter than she ordinarily does. That’s saying a lot. She looks up when I walk into the room.

“Hey, Luke,” she says.

It’s in her tone, a silent message. She wants to forget about everything for a while.

“Want some lunch?” I ask. “I was going to cook some steaks.”

I wonder if I should risk it, this glint of light after the darkness we shared.

“We could make a date of it.”

Her smile tells me I’ve played it right. Her whole face lights up, as if she’s relieved to slip back into the banter, the sassiness. For now, at least.

“A date? I’ve never been on one before.”

I smirk, bowing at the waist, even as heat rages in me. She’s never been on a date, never been with a man. Except for somebody who stole something from her. Something he had no right to take.

“It would be my honor to be your first.” I’m talking about more than dating here.

“Okay, that sounds nice. Thanks, Luke.”

The downstairs is an open plan, meaning I can watch her as I take the steaks from the fridge and get them ready. She looks down at her work, but every so often, she glances across at me, that captivating shaky smile on her face.

“Are we going to talk about last night?” she asks.

I suppress so many things, so much hate I could aim at this man, this lowlife who harmed my woman.

“Not unless you want to,” I reply.

She smiles tightly. “I don’t. Except…”

“Except?”

“Can I trust you?”

“Yes,” I say, without having to think about it. “Completely. Always.”

There I go again, letting out too much passion.

Her smile only widens. Her cheeks glisten in the midday sunlight.

“If I give you his name, promise not to do anything until I tell you I’m okay with it. You must accept it might be never.”

I swallow a ball of thick emotion.

“That’s one hell of a promise.”

“It has to be my choice.”

She stands, walks around the kitchen divider, and stands close to me. I make the distance even smaller, reaching down and looping my arms around her, knowing this is dangerous, knowing the man who calls himself Andrew could catch us.

She wraps her arms around my shoulders.

“How does this feel so natural?” she whispers.

“I don’t know,” I reply, “but you’re right. It does.”

It’s easy to lose ourselves in the kissing for a while, our tongues making their sizzling contact, our bodies melting closer and closer together.

“Can you promise?” she whispers. “For me?”

I almost say no. It’s too much, knowing this asshole is out there knowing I can’t do anything about it, but I’d promise anything for my woman.

“I swear,” I tell her. “I won’t do anything until you’re ready.”

“His name is Regi…” She laughs, but there’s pain in it, and she shakes her head as if dislodging the suffering. “Reginald Childs. Wow, that was tougher to say than I thought.”



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