The Mob Princess’s Enemy (Mafia Ties #2) Read Online Fiona Davenport

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: Mafia Ties Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
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I nodded but growled when he stepped toward Carly and squeezed her arm in an expression of comfort. She threw me a dirty look while Nic just chuckled and crossed the room to the other door. When it clicked shut, I set the gun on the table and calmly waited for the explosion.

“What in under fuck, Brandon?!” she shrieked, the odd turn of phrase showing a bit of her Irish roots. “You agreed to let me finish this!”

I met her gaze with a raised brow. “Did I?”

I had her there and she sputtered for a moment then snapped, “It was implied!”

“Kitten—”

“Don’t you, kitten, me, you bloody shite!” Seeing her dad and being so riled up was dredging up some of the slang she grew up around and it was so fucking cute, I had to fight a smile. “Was this your end game? Seduce me and worm your way in so you could take over and your organization would simply absorb mine?”

Any humor I felt was immediately gone. “Do not ever question or trivialize my love for you, Carly,” I growled as I stalked over to her, grabbing her arms and looking straight into her eyes. “I didn’t do it to undermine you so I could manipulate my way into being in charge. I have no problem being the man beside the woman, but I’ll be damned if I don’t do everything I can to protect you, and that includes your heart, mind, and soul.”

Her face softened, and I could practically feel the anger receding.

“Even now, Nic is spreading the word that you were the one to put a bullet in him and you intend to take his place. No one but you, me, and Nic will ever know it wasn’t your finger on the trigger. Is that clear?”

She nodded, took a deep breath, and slid her arms around my waist, resting her head on my chest. “Thank you.” I wrapped her up in my embrace and kissed her forehead.

“Anything for you, kitten.”

I climbed out of the black Town Car and reached my hand in to help Carly. Lacing my fingers through hers, I gave her hand a squeeze. “Are you ready, kitten?”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then shook her head. “No. But, it’s not like I have a choice.”

By using contacts and calling in some favors, Nic and I were able to get the funeral for Carly’s father arranged in three days. It also helped that her priest, Father Gannon, was almost as happy to see Pat on a marble slab as we were.

Carly worked tirelessly and I helped with what I could, but I also had to get back to my own job. We had a couple of shipments coming in and we were still in a tense holding pattern with the O’Reilly’s until Carly took over. Which meant we needed to oversee transit with more men, and I had to attend some meetings to negotiate for new merchandise, both legal and...otherwise. They were my contacts and would only deal with me.

By the time I fell into bed, I was exhausted and I’d fallen asleep with my girl wrapped up in my arms, only to wake a couple of hours later as she got up to start her day. I was suffering from a serious case of blue balls and I couldn’t wait for this fucking day to be over. The only bright spot was knowing I’d be seeing Pat O’Reilly in a box.

We walked into the church and I was so fucking proud of my woman. She held herself like a queen, showing no weakness but for her grip on my hand, which only I was aware of. We paused briefly when we came upon Nic and his wife, Anna. He stood and kissed Carly’s cheek, before shaking my hand. It was the first step in solidifying the backing of the DeLucas.

Sliding into the “family pew,” she leaned back and brushed some imaginary lint from her perfectly pressed black, linen pants. Her black blouse was sheer, with a silky camisole underneath. Chunky gold jewelry, her gorgeous red hair in a bun, and striking makeup all painted the perfect picture. She didn’t have to pretend to mourn, it wasn’t a secret that there was no love lost between father and daughter. In all honesty, I wouldn’t have been surprised if the majority of attendees were there to make sure the son of a bitch was really dead.

A wicked smile stole over my face as I pictured a Charade scenario where mourners walked up to the casket and stabbed, shot, suffocated, whatever they could think of, to prove he was truly on his way to hell.

Carly pinched my thigh and I scowled at her, rubbing the offended skin. “Behave,” she whispered. I shrugged and zoned out as Father Gannon began the service. It wasn’t long. How could it be? No one was going to stand and extoll the virtues of that evil man.



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