Saint Read Online A. Zavarelli books (Boston Underworld #4)

Categories Genre: Action, Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Crime, Dark, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Boston Underworld Series by A. Zavarelli
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 91064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
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“I suppose you will.”

Today’s Saturday, which means I have one more thing on the agenda before I head home. Woman or not.

Every Saturday, without fail, I stop by to visit Niall.

He’s the former boss of the MacKenna Syndicate, forced into early retirement when his ticker started giving him trouble.

I ring the doorbell and his wife ushers me in as usual with a warm hug and offers a cuppa and a bit of cake. Normally, I’d take her up on it, but since Scarlett is waiting for me, I decline.

Niall’s in his office, reading. Thinner since I last saw him, and bored as shite, apparently. It pains me to see him this way. I know it pains him too. But he gestures me in with warm eyes, the same way he always does, and tells me to take a seat across from him.

I do. Niall holds up a finger while he finishes up the page he’s on and I lean back in my chair and kick my foot up onto the opposite thigh.

This man has been like a father to me. He changed my life and I will forever be in his debt.

Niall taught me everything I know. From the time I was only a wee lad, working in his shop as a grocery delivery boy. And then, at the age of thirteen, when my whole world tipped upside down, he gave me a bit of solid ground to stand on.

Out of habit, I adjust the silver watch on my wrist. The one that stopped at ten forty-three over twenty years ago.

That was when I became a man.

And when Niall brought me into this life.

He taught me how to hustle. He taught me how to fight. And he taught me how to manage the anger that I couldn’t seem to get a handle on.

And possibly the greatest thing he’s ever done for me was to never mention that night again. To never speak of the things he did for me. The thing that I did. And the reason I owe him my loyalty and my life.

I have nothing but respect for the man. And for my brothers. Each and every one he vetted himself. I will always do battle for them.

Niall sets down his book and adjusts his glasses, peering at me over the rims.

“Where’s my whiskey?”

I pull the pint out of my jacket and slide it across the desk like a drug lord, both of our eyes darting towards the door. If his missus finds out I’ve been sneaking him whiskey, she’ll have both our nuts.

Niall cracks open the bottle without pretense and takes a swig before shoving it into his bottom desk drawer.

“The good stuff,” he says. “Ye’re a good lad.”

“How goes the battle?” I ask.

“Good as can be expected, I suppose,” he answers. “The missus has got me eating all sorts of cardboard she claims to be food. Oatmeal and dry toast and the like.”

“She’s only looking out for ye.”

He nods and leans back in his chair, his face contemplative.

“I spoke to your mammy this week past.”

“Oh?” This is news to me. “I only spoke to her on Sunday, she didn’t mention it.”

“She says she’s worried about ye,” Niall tells me. “That you’ll never settle down and give her some grandbabies. She charged me with the task of finding a good woman for ye.”

We both have a laugh at the idea, and then I relax a little.

“Ye needn’t worry,” I say. “I’m quite capable of finding me own ladies.”

“Aye, ye are,” Niall answers. “Your problem is picking just the one of them to play house with.”

I don’t know why I say the next words. Given that I only just told Crow this morning that things between me and Scarlett aren’t serious. And they aren’t. But maybe I’d like them to be. Maybe I could see them heading in that direction.

“Well don’t tell mammy to go picking out any china patterns just yet,” I say, “but I think I’ve found a keeper.”

He’s surprised by my admission, but there is relief in his smile.

“She’ll be quite happy to hear that. She had herself convinced that you were so wrecked over the whole deal with your father that it put you off of marriage for life.”

I shift in the chair and drop my gaze to his desk. Niall never mentions my father, and for good reason. It isn’t a topic that we revisit.

Only the once.

Only when I needed his body disposed of and Niall took care of it. He’s never brought it up. Until now. And it isn’t a topic I’m particularly keen on.

“The thing is, lad,” he says, “if I’ve learned anything since my ticker started giving out on me, it’s this. You’ve got to let go of the past to move on. To live in the present. And while I trust a mammy’s instincts, I’ve had the same notions about ye meself for a while now.”



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