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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“I met your mother,” Dad says, smiling at me.

We share in the sadness as I meet his gaze. I wish there was a cache of memories for me to draw on, to pluck out one by one, to admire and savor. All I can do is look into the love in Dad’s eyes, as the landscape rushes by in the window behind him, as if those are the memories I might’ve had… rushing away.

“Before her, nothing mattered. I didn’t care if I risked my life. Ruined it. It was my life, but then I met the most beautiful, perfect woman in the world. I knew I had to make a change, so I moved in with her and her parents. I legally changed my name. I created the man I am today, and I went to school to study accountancy.”

Dad glances at Luke.

“What is it?” I ask.

Luke groans from the front of the car. He looks ready to tear the wheel, to snap it in two so he doesn’t have to deal with this.

“I didn’t take it well. My mind was twisted back then. My dad…”

Again, I want to ask him more about his father. I know there’s darkness—he’s hinted enough times—but I want to know more. I want to know about the specifics. Maybe I can help him. My man.

“We had a fight. I said things I regretted. That was the last time we saw each other… until they hired me to kill you.”

“Strange, strange world,” Dad mutters.

“Is this what you meant?” I ask, looking at Luke in the rearview. “You said you had a brother once, but you lost him. Did you consider Dad your brother?”

“As a figure of speech,” Luke says. “Yeah, I did.”

I know why he adds the first part. He needs to reiterate that they’re not literally brothers, which is obvious, but he has to make sure he’s stated it because of us. What we’re doing together. The magnet-like force drawing us closer and closer each time we’re alone.

“The chances of you being hired to k…” I can’t say it. Kill. “Dad, they’re so low.”

“Not as low as you’d think,” Dad says uncomfortably.

“What? What aren’t you telling me?”

He picks at his pant leg, pulling loose a piece of fabric. “I always wanted to give you the life you deserved. That’s why I reached out to one of my old childhood buddies. I told him specifically I wanted legal work, but well-paying… and he set me up with the mafia front business. I tried to keep my head down, ignore the signs, but your mother’s voice was always in my mind, Violet… always telling me to do the right thing.”

“So, when they hired a hit man,” I say, my belly twisting at the warped nature of this reality. My lover hired to kill my dad. My future husband hired to execute the man who’s always protected me.

“They chose your old friend.”

“They probably didn’t know,” Luke says. “It was a long time ago, when me and Phil… when me and Andrew were on the scene.”

I sit back, laying my head against the rest and staring out the window. The world rushes by, but my thoughts are rushing faster, whirring through my mind at impossible speeds, crashing and clashing.

Dad, a stranger. Luke, his ex-best friend. How can this ever work?

“I’m sorry I lied.” Dad reaches over and lays his hand against mine. “I didn’t think it would ever come up. I know that’s not a good excuse.”

“You wanted to be Andrew, not Phil. I get it, Dad. Everybody deserves a second chance.”

What about me and Luke? Do we deserve a chance?

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Luke

Another safe house, another check, walking around the perimeter and making sure all the sensors and traps are functional.

Andrew—I’m trying to think of him with the name he chose—is locked away with the laptop, making the kill switch stronger.

If this was any other job, I’d get a sense of déjà vu. Arrive at a safe house, check it, wait, and move on. So much has changed since that first night, tearing off my mask and looking into my old friend’s eyes. Then Violet pushing open places I thought would never come to life. I thought those parts of me were dormant, dead, locked behind the wall of what happened when I was a kid.

I didn’t find my woman until it was too late, but is it ever too late?

She’s sitting on the porch when I return. This safe house sits next to a small pond, an overgrown garden with vines and flowers and the general chaos of untamed nature proliferating.

“That was quite the car ride,” she murmurs, standing.

“Yeah,” I grunt, taking the steps, staring down at her.

My body hungers for her more and more each second, despite the circumstances, despite the darkness shared in the car ride. She’s got that sassy tilt to her head, the twist to her lips that tells me one of her barbed comments could fly from her lips at any moment.



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