Enrico (The Conti Crime Family #3) Read Online C.M. Steele

Categories Genre: Insta-Love, Novella Tags Authors: Series: The Conti Crime Family Series by C.M. Steele
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Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
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“Then what’s your motive? Because you didn’t just come after me because my boss was a pervert.”

“I did.”

“But the message wasn’t sent until right now.”

“I didn’t say it was because of the message. The thought of you being alone with him at all was enough for me. Princess, I’ll explain this to you right now. From the moment I saw your photo, I wanted you like a madman. There’s no other motive.”

“So you want to fuck me. Then what?”

“Then I want to do it again and again until you’re carrying our babies.” She doesn’t respond, but she presses her lips together several times and then opens her mouth, unable to speak. I’ve clearly startled my future wife, but I get the feeling she isn’t revolted.

“Enough of that talk. Let’s get some food.”

“Okay.”

“May I use the bathroom?” she asks me, scooting to the edge of the bed.

“There’s no other exit out that way.”

“I’m not trying to get away. I just haven’t peed in hours, if you must know.”

“Sure. Let me help you.”

“I don’t need you to help me pee.”

“Fine. Go ahead.” She stands up, and I can’t keep my eyes off her ass. When she finally closes the door to the bathroom, I call the guys, wanting more information on this fucking reporter who had my woman at his mercy.

I get a hold of Alessio, who asks for details. “He was tracking her movements,” I snarl.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yes, Flavio told me that he was on our tail, and we were able to thwart him.”

“Fuck. Well, it’s good that you went after her when you did.”

“Where’s Dario?”

“He’s dealing with Coleman at the moment.” I get it. The bastard is going to meet his end. Fuck, I wish I could be a part of that situation.

“I should be back tomorrow or the day after. I need to speak to him as soon as possible.”

“I’ll tell him to call you as soon as possible.” I want a hand in every ass whooping and death that comes from this mess with January and the girls. Every single one of these people are garbage and need to be dealt with.

The bathroom door opens and then January appears. “I’ve got to go.” I quickly hang up and then turn to face her.

“So what’s up with my friends?” she asks.

“Nothing that I’m aware of,” I lie. There isn’t much that I can tell her, so it’s best if I say nothing at all. It’s not like she can talk to them at the moment anyway. They’re both preoccupied or even just sleeping.

“I want to call May. She’s probably worried about me.”

“Your message never made it to her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your message never went through. The crappy cell range.” It’s the truth, but from the look on her face she doesn’t believe a word of it.

“Oh. Are you saying that, or is there another reason?”

I shake my head and answer as politely as I can without saying too much. “No, but I’d wait to call her. She’s busy at the moment.”

“Are you saying…”

“I don’t know what they’re doing, but I was told they were busy when I called, so relax. I promise you’ll talk to her. Dario knows where I am, and if your message does go through, you’ll know because she’ll either call you or he will call me. Now, calm down and sit so you can tell me what you want to fucking eat.”

“Fine.” She stomps over to the bed with a huff.

I didn’t mean to come off as a dick, but I don’t like lying to her, and yet, I can’t tell her what Dario has planned for May.

Chapter Four

January

It takes about five minutes of looking at the menus for me to pick an all-night burger place that delivers for the right money. I’m not hungry really, but the big brute in the corner of the room, staring me down, refuses to budge on the subject, so I select a place and some food.

“So tell me about yourself, Enrico,” I say, hoping to ease the tension running through me. I’m not sure it’s possible when someone so sexy is feet away, staring at you like he’d rather eat you than any other meal, but I’m going to try.

He sits down next to me, which only makes things worse because my pulse ramps up and my body turns to Jello.

“What do you want to know? Let me guess. As a reporter—everything?” He smirks, and I see a slight scar on his jawline that makes me curious.

A part of me wants to run my fingers along it and wonder if he’d tell me how he got it. Was it a fight with another mobster? An angry lover scorned? Why does the latter make me jealous?

Shaking off my own irritation, I try to mess with him. “Well, I’m not a full-blown reporter yet, but yes. I don’t even know your last name, and it’s not like you introduced yourself. I heard your name from that guy on the phone.”



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