Mobsters & Mistletoe Read Online Kenya Wright

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
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One of them men let out a low growl.

I raised one eyebrow.

Anthony pulled out his guns. “Make sure you're loaded and ready. This ain't a snowball fight, Vipers. We're here to end it. The cold's nothing compared to the chill she's gonna feel when we're done.”

I swallowed and gazed back at my sworn enemy's domain.

I must get my revenge tonight.

And so... it began.

In the cover of darkness, we advanced together.

Anthony kept pace on my right.

The rest of our men trailed behind.

Our footsteps barely made any sound on the snow-covered ground.

My blood raced hot with adrenaline while my senses remained heightened.

Our breaths were visible in the cold air as we neared the mansion, tension gathered in my shoulders.

With Anthony’s orders given, the men dispersed, melting into the shadows and taking up positions.

Anthony whispered on my side. “Ready, Dante?”

“Let's do this.”

We moved swiftly, crossing the lawn in a matter of seconds.

The shadows of the estate’s elaborate landscaping provided us with cover, allowing us to inch closer without drawing the attention of the security or valet.

I checked around.

Marcelo's crew fanned out to form a wide perimeter around the estate's front. They moved with a silent discipline, their eyes keen and watchful.

Meanwhile, Viper Mob, clad in purple, took to more aggressive positioning. They moved in pairs, slipping closer to the mansion, ready to respond at a moment's notice.

So far, so good.

Anthony and I continued behind the mansion and remained close to the back.

Silently, we paused, and I briefly took a moment to survey our men's positions. They were well-placed, covering all possible escape routes and entry points.

Then, Anthony whispered, “Fuck.”

“What?”

“To the left.”

We ducked to the ground.

I spotted two guards patrolling with machine guns.

Ten feet ran between them.

“I can get the one in the front.” I pointed at him. “You get the one in the back.”

Anthony’s hand subtly gestured towards his men, signaling to hold position. “No, Reaper.”

“No?”

“I'll handle them both.” He lowered his hand. “Save your energy for the Red Widow.”

Before I could speak, Anthony drew a slender knife out in one fluid motion. “I'll be right back.”

I stayed in the shadows.

Let's see what the Siren can do.

Without a sound, Anthony charged.

Hmmm.

He was a shadow himself, barely distinguishable from the darkness that enveloped us. In fact, had I not had the glasses on, I might not have seen him.

Fast, he approached the first guard in a whisper of movement, and closed the distance. The guard, unaware, continued his casual patrol, oblivious to the approaching danger.

Anthony neared his target.

The blade caught a flicker of moonlight.

With a swift, fluid motion, he struck. The knife’s edge found the soft spot beneath the guard's jaw, a silent, swift end.

The guard’s eyes widened in shock. A muted gasp was his only response before he crumpled to the ground.

The second guard, only a few steps ahead, turned at the faintest rustle, but it was too late.

Anthony was already upon him, his movements a blur of lethal grace.

The knife arced through the air, a silver flash in the darkness, finding its target with deadly accuracy.

The guard barely had time to register surprise before he too joined his fallen comrade.

Smiling, Anthony did a dramatic bow and rushed toward the back.

Show off.

I smirked and headed after him.

Chapter 18

The Mansion Battle

I glanced at Anthony, feeling a rare sense of camaraderie. “Time to see if Marcelo's men are as good as their reputation.”

“We shall see.”

A minute later, shouts, the sound of breaking glass, and the unmistakable pop of gunshots filled the air.

The diversion had begun.

As expected, I heard the front doors of the mansion burst open and a stream of soldiers must have poured out with weapons drawn.

In the blink of an eye, the quiet grandeur of Francesca's mansion turned into a battlefield.

Plus, the diversion at the front was more than effective.

Explosions sounded.

Grenades?

Gunfire erupted in short, controlled bursts.

Perfect.

In the midst of this chaos, Anthony and I slipped into the mansion's rear.

We split up.

I advanced through the lavish corridors.

My heart pounded in my chest, not out of fear, but anticipation.

Where are you, Francesca?

I turned a corner and encountered two guys in red suits.

Crimson Mob.

Their backs were to me, unaware of the danger that lurked just feet away.

Fuck you two.

I didn't hesitate.

With lightning speed, I drew my silencer and dispatched them with silent precision.

They crashed to the ground.

Continuing on, I felt like a shadow, a specter of vengeance weaving through Francesca’s world of opulence and sin. The mansion was a labyrinth, but to me, it was just another battlefield, one I was determined to conquer.

I encountered more guards, each meeting the same silent fate.

My movements were a blur, and there was no mercy.

The deeper I ventured, the more I felt the weight of what was at stake.

Zuri and Carmen's faces flashed in my head.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of footsteps approaching. I pressed myself against the wall, blending into the shadows.



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