Underboss (With Me in Seattle Mafia #1) Read Online Kristen Proby

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Mafia, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: With Me in Seattle Mafia Series by Kristen Proby
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Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 59176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
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“I think we should have a meeting with both of our fathers. Do you think yours would come to Seattle?”

She thinks it over. “If your father sends the invitation, I’m sure he will.”

“I’ll get that ball rolling. We thought what was happening in Denver died with Richard.”

“We were wrong.” She yawns. “We were very wrong.”

And I’m furious.

No one will ever touch her like that again.

“I shouldn’t have paused in shooting him,” I say when we’re in the elevator headed up to our room. “I hate myself for it.”

“He might have stopped,” she says. “Hey. I’m here, and I’m fine. We’re going to figure out who’s behind this, and we’re going to kill them. No hesitation. No second chances.”

“No. No hesitation.” I pull her to me when we close the door to our suite and hold her close. We’re rocking back and forth, clinging to each other, when my phone rings.

I don’t let her go as I bring it to my ear. “Yes.”

“The plane will be ready within the hour.”

“Excellent.”

I click off and tip her chin up with my finger.

“Let’s go home, babe.”

Chapter 16

~Nadia~

“That’s your grandmother’s house?”

Carmine cuts the car’s engine, and we sit in silence, staring at the enormous brownstone home just outside of Seattle, still perfectly manicured and maintained.

“It is.” He sighs and then turns to me. “My brothers, Elena, and I practically grew up here. Especially in the summers. The house sits on roughly twenty acres of land. More than sixty years ago, when my grandfather bought the property, he got it for a steal.”

I raise a brow, and he laughs.

“No, he didn’t steal it. But he got a great deal on it. Today, it’s worth well into the eight figures.”

“I bet someone would love to buy it, divvy up the land into smaller parcels, build, and sell. Make it a nice little neighborhood near the water.”

“I’m sure they would. And they’d make a good deal of money off it. But that’s not going to happen.”

“So, you’re just hanging onto it for what? Sentimental value?” I shake my head and get out of the car. “Carmine, this property is prime real estate to make your family money.”

“We have plenty of money,” he reminds me. “And we’re making more every day. Now, let’s go find Rocco and see what’s going on.”

He slips his hand into mine and leads me through an arched, double door entrance and into a grand foyer with a split staircase.

It’s a stunningly beautiful home. And it suits what I know of Carmine’s grandmother, the matriarch of their mafioso family.

“He’s probably in the kitchen,” Carmine says and leads me through rooms full of old furniture, artwork, and windows that offer a view of the water.

“I see why you have a thing for beautiful views.”

He smiles. “I learned from her.”

We walk past a dining room and into the kitchen, where sure enough, Rafe leans on the counter, tapping keys on his laptop as he munches on a sandwich.

“Hey,” he says and looks up at us. “Jesus, you look like shit. Aren’t you supposed to come home from vacation looking all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed?”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Carmine asks with a laugh. “We came straight here from the airport.”

“Ah. Jet lag. So, I hear you had some fun being tailed over there.”

“You heard right,” I reply and open the fridge, starving. “You have cream cheese. Do you have bagels?”

“Sure. Here you go.”

He opens a cupboard, and I have my pick of everything, cheese, or plain.

I always go for the cheese.

“Want one?” I ask Carmine.

“Sure. I’ll do it. You’re exhausted. Here.” He takes over, and I point to the cheese, then settle back to chat with Rafe.

“And you had a break-in here,” I reply, to which Rafe nods.

“Yeah. Fucker got inside by breaking one of the big picture windows in the library. I had them repaired yesterday.”

“But not with the original glass,” Carmine says with frustration.

“No,” Rafe agrees, then turns to me to explain. “Ninety percent of the glass in this house is original. It was built in 1909. Gram was particularly fond of the glass.”

“I’m sorry. That sucks. What did they take?”

“As far as we can tell, nothing.” He blows out a disgusted breath and paces the kitchen. “I’ve been through every room. Aside from the window, nothing was moved. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Unless they were looking for something or someone who wasn’t here,” Carmine replies as he sets a plate full of bagel goodness in front of me and then sits next to me with a plate of his own.

“I thought of that,” Rafe says. “Since it’s not been a secret that the house has been empty, I’d say it was something they were looking for.”

“If it was a run-of-the-mill thief,” I say, licking cream cheese off my finger. “He could have been looking for jewelry, artwork, antiques. But I saw a lot of priceless art and antiques on our way through when we arrived.”



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