| BOOK FOUR | THE LONDON CRIME KING | A DARK MAFIA ROMANCE NOVEL |
This book contains adult language and subject matter, including graphic violence, drugs and explicit sex that may be disturbing to some readers.
This series is NOT a typical romance...
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Matthew stood by the Manor's roman style entrance with a beribboned gift basket. He watched the Mercedes roll down the extensive driveway, the array of black Bentley vehicles line up around the ancient fountain, and he shifted anxiously on his leather-clad feet.
Mutely, Jax gestured for him to step back for the men to enter the property without obstruction. Each man from the syndicate scrutinised the unexpected visitor from head to toe as they ploughed through the front door.
Brad was the last man to climb the steps. He paused, had a brief conversation with Jax—whose eyes lingered on an approaching Alfie—and then his attention turned to Matthew.
Poor Matt looked sickly pale under Blond Suits brusque interrogation. He moved aside, albeit skittish, and raised the wicker basket to say, 'I come in peace,' which Brad took as an invitation. He helped himself to the vodka bottle, tapped the man's shoulder a little bit harder than necessary and joined the others inside.
Only Jax and Alfie lingered for me to rise from the car. Rather than join everyone indoors, I flashed the headlights, killed the engine and reclined in the heated leather seat.
Matthew held the basket to his chest, his eyes on the stars above as his leather shoes scuffed along the tarmacadam. He opened the passenger side door, juggling the adorned gifts, and his body heavily eased into the seat.
"Hey." I squeezed his shoulder. "You can breathe now."
"Shit," he said, his breath whooshing out. "Those men are so intense. Is he always so inhospitable and unwelcoming?"
I feigned cluelessness. "Who?"
His fingers grappled the plastic-covered hamper. "Brad Jones."
"What did he say to you?"
A red blush tinted his cheeks. "To keep my hands in my pockets."
I laughed lightly.
"What?" His voice was low and gruff. "How did I manage to offend him in less than fifteen seconds?"
I daren't tell Matthew that Brad is probably snooping from the office window right now. He must think my old boss is here to offer more than departing presents. "Brad's harmless."
Matthew chuckled disbelievingly. "No, he's not."
I never had the energy to disagree. "So, what's with the basket?"
"Oh." He pinched the satin ribbon. "Everyone clubbed together to buy leaving gifts for our favourite colleague. Trudy wrapped." The basket landed on my lap. "Jesminder baked cookies. I bought vodka, but your friend swiped it."
My smile stretched. "Thank you, Matthew."
His eyes revisited the Manor. "How's Logan?"
"Happy," I said, and he nodded as if already aware. "I love him."
