| BOOK FIVE | 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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Nate locked Gia in the holding cell underground whilst I handled Alice Montgomery. If I didn't know any better, I'd say the docile nanny was spying on me. I had just finished the recording for Bosqui and hit send when the whisper of serpentine underhandedness scuttled beneath the floor. I am aware of the secret passages and tunnels within the estate (those interesting details came with the brochure), but I deemed them unimportant until now. Thanks to the hired help, I'll be on the phone with contractors in the morning.
I entered the home office.
"I gave Gia a mild sedative. It will wire her trap shut for a few hours." Nate had changed into a clean two-piece suit whilst I tended to the nanny. "Was it Alice in the tunnel?"
My phone vibrated.
Emma's name flashed on the screen.
I ignored her call.
"She was smoking weed in the barn."
"Rodents?" He pulled on a ribbed beanie. "I can chuck some poison down there."
No, the movements were far too loud to be rats. It was her, I am sure of it, but proving it is another matter. I will have to trust my gut, block the tunnels and quell the woman's snoopiness moving forward.
"I have to check in on Josh." Deep lines frowned his forehead. "Do you want to come with me?"
My phone screen brightened with a notification from Emma.
Emma: I did something.
Emma: It was wrong, and I feel guilty.
Emma: Please do not hate me.
What is she rambling on about?
"Brad?" He zipped the coat to his chin. "Are you ready?"
Putting the phone to my ear, I held up one finger.
"Hey," Emma said after one ring. "Big guy, I need to talk to you. It is really important."
Nate's brows elevated in question.
Truthfully, I had to stay away from the woman. I liked her, and I wanted us to be friends, but something changed between us. Maybe it's because we almost slept together. Perhaps it's because her sad eyes this afternoon uncaged something dangerously protective within. I am not sure. Either way, I had to take a huge step back and focus on the job.
You see, Chloe's letter hit me with a few home truths. I am an unapologetic womaniser. I have played the field and behaved irresponsibly for as long as I can remember.
Don't get it twisted, though. I am not the quintessential fuckboy who dumps females in the wake of sex. I can still be in their presence days, weeks, months and years after, with the proviso that we are on the same page. In other words, no-strings-attached friends with benefits.
