Sold to the Mob Boss: A Mafia Romance (Lavrin Bratva) by Nicole Fox (best e books to read TXT) 📕

in the city is untouchable. I have the advantage in cash flow, number of loyal soldiers, weapons—the list goes on and on. And yet, something in my gut tells me that he will do something stupid. It would be just like him to launch a suicidal attack he has no chance of winning. Though I’d almost surely come out on top, it would be costly, not to mention the undue attention it would draw.

The fool isn’t more than a common thug. He’s just showing off for everyone. If there’s anything the man loves more than money, it’s attention. I turn my attention back to Lenny, who is finishing an explanation of the dock schematics on a laptop.

Once we’re done going over all the specifics, I give Eitan the go-ahead and he transfers over the cash. Gino leans forward and puts out his cigarette by dumping it into the glass of whatever he was drinking earlier. He says nothing, just sits there with his arms crossed.

I stand and hold my glass in the air. “Thank you, gentlemen, for coming tonight. I hope you enjoyed yourselves. Cheers to future success.”

“Cheers,” the voices in the room ring out, and everyone finishes their drinks.

I hustle out of the room without another word. It’s been a turbulent evening, and I need to take the edge off. I get in the back of the luxury sedan waiting outside for me.

“Take me to the penthouse,” I order the driver. We peel out at once.

There’s a new slave I’m quite eager to meet.

Chapter Nine

Annie

The car pulls into one of the most expensive apartment complexes in the city. The driver descends deeper into the parking garage and pulls up to the elevator entrance. Another suited goon is waiting there. He strides forward and opens my door, yanking me out by the arm.

“Do none of you morons know how to be gentle?” I spit.

He doesn’t even acknowledge me. He just closes the car door and leads me toward the elevator. The vehicle pulls away and we stand there in silence until the ding of the arriving elevator cuts through the dead air. Inside, the floor is covered in red carpet. The walls are metallic and the place smells floral. The whole thing is dripping with classless luxury, fancy just for the sake of being fancy. The bodyguard inserts a key and hits the button for the top floor.

Penthouse.

I shouldn’t be surprised. The man spent over two hundred thousand dollars on me. Where else would he live? I gnaw my lip. I still can’t believe I’m in this mess. But maybe this man will listen to reason and let me go. Maybe I won’t end up dead.

The ride up to the penthouse is even longer than I expected and when the doors open, my jaw drops. Holy crap. My eyes fixate on the window ahead of me, so large it reminds me of a storefront but instead of merchandise it displays constellations against an inky black sky. The bodyguard nudges me forward and my heels click against the ceramic tile. I close my mouth and continue to take in the grand space.

In front of the window is a huge mahogany table. Two tall, silver candelabras command attention from the center of the table, holding smooth peach candles whose wax has never dripped. Above hangs the most beautiful crystalline chandelier. Simple yet elegant, it perfectly complements the table beneath it.

The bodyguard jabs me again to move down the hallway. I turn my head over my shoulder and glare at him. “You could just tell me where to go instead of prodding me like cattle.”

“Shut up.”

He brings me into a large bedroom and stops in the doorway. The floor is carpeted and the walls painted a gentle cream color. The bed is centered against the far wall with an elaborate headboard. On top of the mattress is a dark blue dress. I walk over and take in the garment. If they expect me to get dressed up like a dancing monkey, they’ve got another thing coming.

“I’m not wearing this.”

The dress—if it could even be called that—barely covers a thing. If I even attempted to bend over, my butt would be hanging out. The material is nearly see-through, and there is no breast support. Not that I have large breasts, but still.

The bodyguard growls and steps into the room. “Put it on now.”

“No. I’m not wearing this. I’m not a whore.”

He steps forward again, close enough for me to feel his breath against my face. I realize suddenly how tall he is, how broad, like a boulder with arms. I’m a little ant in comparison. “You can put it on yourself or I’ll put it on for you. But, one way or another, you’re going to wear the fucking dress.”

I swallow hard. This jerk would enjoy putting the dress on me against my will. But after the night I’ve had, no one is touching me anymore. No one is ripping my clothes again. “I can dress myself, thank you,” I say through clenched teeth.

Satisfied for now, he turns and stalks back to the doorframe, where he stands observing me with crossed arms. I narrow my eyes at him. “Turn around or get out. I said I’ll dress myself but you aren’t getting a show. And if you keep harassing me, I may just let your boss know.”

The man’s face goes rigid, blotchy red spreading over his skin. He looks like he wants to lunge across the room and strangle me, but I’ve clearly said the magic word—‘boss’—because instead he steps through the doorway and slams it shut behind him without saying anything.

With a sigh, I take a second and sit on the bed. It’s soft and I just want to lie down and close my eyes. My night has been hell on earth and my body is drained from the stress. Sleep would be a blessing. But I can hear the bodyguard tapping his heel impatiently against the wall outside. I don’t want to