The Woman on the Jury (Costa Family #7) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: Costa Family Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
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I grabbed the robe off the back of the door—scratchy and a helluva lot less luxurious than you’d expect from a hotel robe, but at least it smelled clean—and threw it on, tying the belt.

“Open the door, Halle,” a voice called.

Calm.

Smooth.

Darkly sexy.

Could something be darkly sexy?

Well, I guess it could.

Because his voice totally was.

How was he… here, though?

I hadn’t told him where I was staying, let alone which room I was staying in.

I suddenly understood perfectly why many mafia juries were sequestered. Because men like this, with pockets as deep as his, could get to anyone they wanted to.

“Halle,” Cosimo called again, making me jump.

“Coming,” I called, padding through the minuscule bedroom, wondering how the hell he was even going to fit in there with me.

I slid the locks, then reached to pull the door open.

And there he was.

In another of his expensive-looking all-black suits. At eight in the morning. I didn’t exactly miss that watch of his either. It wasn’t antique, but I was getting decent at estimating something’s worth just by looking at it.

Five grand?

Eight?

Somewhere in that range.

My entire wardrobe didn’t even equal that.

“How did—“ I started to ask, peeking out just the small opening I’d created.

Which, apparently, was unacceptable to Cosimo. His hand shot out, pushing the door fully open.

I felt naked under his gaze as it moved over me. From the top of my head to the tip of my toes, then back upward. He lingered a bit at my thighs, since this robe was of the short variety, as well as the V between my breasts where the material wasn’t staying together like it was supposed to before he found my face again.

“Why the fuck are you staying in this shithole?” he asked, surprising me enough to take a step back and allow him in as he moved forward.

Great.

That was great.

Alone in a hotel room with a killer who had tracked me down, despite my being sure I hadn’t been followed.

Taking a steadying breath, I let the door click closed. I turned to watch him move around my room, glancing in the bathroom, then going toward the window.

He turned back, brow raised.

“What?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest.

“This shithole. Why?”

“It’s not a shithole,” I said.

I mean I knew it wasn’t a nice hotel. But there were no bugs. Everything seemed reasonably clean. The staff was nice. I hadn’t gotten to the buffet yet, but the pictures of it in reviews seemed alright.

“It is,” he said, shaking his head. “I gave you more than enough to stay somewhere better. Anywhere in the city, in fact.”

“I didn’t know how long I would have to stay somewhere, so I wanted to… conserve the money,” I said, annoyed at how heated my face felt at that admission. No one liked admitting they didn’t have their own money to take care of themselves. But that was the crux of the problem. I needed his money, or I was going to have to go home.

“If I didn’t figure something out, I would have given you more,” he said in this ‘you’re an idiot for not realizing this’ kind of tone that had my hackles rising.

I really wanted to call this guy an asshole. He certainly spoke like one a lot of the time. But could you call someone that when they were giving you an insane amount of money to stay in a hotel room while he tried to figure out how to fix your problem?

I guess two things could be true at once.

He was an ass.

And he was financially generous.

“How was I supposed to know that?” I asked, rolling my eyes. “How did you find me?”

“I have ways,” he said, dragging a snorting laugh out of me.

“What a movie villain thing to say.”

“Never claimed to be a good man,” he said, shrugging.

“So, I’m assuming if you stalked me here that you have, ah, figured something out,” I said, hating myself for it, but taking several steps back as he rounded the bed again. In fact, I didn’t stop backing up until my back met the wall that butted up against the bathroom.

“You will have an around-the-clock protection detail,” he told me.

“A… protection detail?” I asked, brows raising.

“Can’t go around annihilating an entire family when I’m not even sure they’re after you,” he said, but there was something false in his voice.

“My… grandfather—“

“Will also have around-the-clock protection,” he cut me off. “So you can go back to your shop and your apartment, and live your life normally, knowing you won’t be getting bothered by anyone.”

“I, oh, okay,” I said.

I couldn’t complain, could I?

I mean, he was giving me men to, essentially, babysit me and my grandfather. Day in and day out.

“But… ah…”

“What?” he asked.

“For how long?” I asked.

“As long as it takes,” he said. “Your first guard is waiting for you in the lobby. Don’t worry. You can’t miss him. So go get dressed,” he said, walking past me.



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