| 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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Lebanese cuisine happened: fifteen containers of whole grains, fruits, vegetables, red meat and double-layered flatbreads. To prevent overindulgence, I aimed for methodical precision, portioning a wide range of samples, and sat on the sofa in the kitchen's adjacent dining room while the men, who gourmandise everything in sight, stood at the stonework island, venting about the unforeseen attack on Alberto Moretti.
Logan texted. He asked to attend a house party with Tre. I almost objected until Brad convinced me otherwise. I have to let him be a normal teenager. And normal teenage boys go to unsupervised house parties to drink alcohol and find girls.
"I never saw it coming." Brad forked fragrant rice into his mouth. "I am not even convinced the shooter targeted Moretti. Alexa noticed the scope's glint reflection on Achilles before the sniper aimed fire. I might be pessimistic, but could we have another foe on our hands?"
Liam unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his broad-shouldered, muscle-bound physique, and draped it on the stool's rear. "I offend everyone I meet," he said, unfazed by such notions. "Why not target the club, though? And how did the shooter know I was to attend an unscheduled meeting at Hyde Park? There is either a rat amongst brothers or a Judas on Moretti's doorstep."
Josh, Nate and Brad exchanged accusatory glances.
"Don't look at me. I am no fucking renegade." Nate was offended to be considered disloyal. "Brad, I am a founding member of the syndicate. I would never betray our trust."
"Same." Josh poured whiskey into a crystal glass. "I am living my best life with you guys. I love the arses of you."
Not one person questioned Brad's allegiance. I suppose his second-in-command position speaks for itself.
"Hyde Park is riddled with surveillance." Brad tucked into toasted pitta bread, dunking morsels in the red pepper hummus. "I will nab tonight's footage to identify the bastard."
Nate hummed. "What if it was a successful hit?"
Liam ruminated on Nate's postulation.
"Then I will shake the pillock's hand," Brad responded with a gleeful smile. "Good fucking riddance. Moretti is lethal. I do not trust him as far as I can throw him. If you," he looked at Liam, "wish to call a truce with Italians, I will stand by your decision. Just know that I disagree wholeheartedly."
Liam's uncertain eyes found mine across the room. "What would you do?"
I paused with the fork near my lips. "What would I do?"
He waited for me to respond, and when I sat mutely, he added, "It is not a requirement for my wife to be agreeable."
"I am conflicted. Moretti betrayed everyone. I am not convinced that he won't betray us again. However, I understand your concern. You have warred with mobsters before, but Moretti is a different breed." I set the plate on the coffee table. "Honestly, I think you need to understand how he operates. I would start by looking at his family tree. Only then can you make a definite decision."
