A Cruel Arrangement (Kings of New York #2) Read Online Tijan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: Kings of New York Series by Tijan
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Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
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I raced from building to building, tearing open every door to find everyone.

Marco and Remmi were in a back closet.

Avery and Elijah found me when we moved to another building. They helped take my primo and Trace’s sister to another safe room.

I kept going. I had to keep going.

Everyone had to be safe. We couldn’t lose anyone.

I swept through the staff building now.

Trace was inside, holding a gun up and aimed right at me. He cursed, seeing me. “Thank god.”

I grated out, “We need to find the rest.”

“Molly?”

“They’re safe. They’re in my office.”

I turned, my gun in hand, and I kept going. Always keep going. Always.

Never stop. Never stop fighting.

“Ashton. Jesus.” Trace touched my arm. “You’re shaking.”

Avery’s radio sounded. There was another barrage of gunfire before a voice came over, yelling, “Warehouse! He’s going for his cousins.”

Trace cursed; his men were with him. My men were with me.

We tore out of there. Avery and Elijah were on each side of me. Demetri and Pajn were surrounding Trace.

I glanced back at one point, yelling at Trace, “Jess?”

He continued to run by us. “She stayed back with her mom. They’re going to join the others in your office. Your house was clean.”

Avery was listening to his radio as more information was coming in from the rest of my men. “They’ve got Worthing’s men surrounded, but they’re saying a car got through from the south entrance. It’s empty, but whoever was in there is on foot inside the compound.”

I stopped running.

God. My heart was pounding. Molly.

Avery was listening again before he said, “We have control of the compound, but we need to find whoever that person is.” His radio crackled again. “Our men are in the security room, and—”

“Nicolai Worthing” came from Ben, the guard now in the security room. “We lost time on the cameras, but—shit—he’s in the primary office.”

I tore out of there.

Primary office.

That was my office.

That was where I’d sent Molly.

Molly . . .

No, no, no.

I would not get there, open that door, and find a body inside.

I would not lose her.

I heard Trace asking behind me, “Is that—Ashton!”

They were coming after me, but the only one faster than me was Avery. I still had a dead sprint ahead of him.

I was the outcast in the family. The black sheep. Marco should’ve taken over, but I had. I was the one who’d work in conjunction with Trace. That’s what I’d said when Marco had questioned why it was me stepping forward, but it was more than that. I wanted control over my fate. I wanted to be the narrator of my place in my family, because I would never hold another secret again, not like the one my mother made me hold.

The opportunity to step forward and take control was given to me. I took it.

I never wanted to be controlled again.

I’d been close to getting everything I never knew I needed in life. Love. Security. Power. Peace. And now Worthing was here, and he was trying to take it away. I wouldn’t let him.

Molly was mine. He could not have her.

I raced to the door.

It was already open—my heart was pounding. What did that mean? As I reached for it, stepping into the opened doorway and—a gunshot went off.

My heart stopped.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

MOLLY

He laughed. “I see my reputation precedes myself.”

Christ. He was laughing. I opened my mouth, but what was there to say?

He nodded at my gun. “You should put that away.”

I blinked. “I should shoot you.”

Everyone else ceased to exist for me. It was him and me. My gun against his. He hadn’t raised his yet, but he would. I knew he would.

I was going to kill someone. That knowledge seeped through my spine, like a cold trickle.

I was going to kill him because I wasn’t going to let him hurt anyone else. It was me or him.

His eyes were still cold, but a different glint appeared. A cruel one. One I’d seen come over Ashton a few other times. He cocked his head to the side. “You know what I’m doing here. My men”—he motioned outside—“are out there, killing your man and his friends.”

That cold trickle turned into ice. “You’re lying.”

“You’ve not heard the gunshots. I’m here. I got in. What does your common sense tell you to believe? Me, who is here and telling you, who’s not threatened by your weapon? I could lift my own gun up, you know. So quick. I’ve killed before. I wouldn’t hesitate, but you, you might hesitate. Have you shot someone before?” His eyes took on a whole pitying look. “It’ll be okay, Molly. I’ll let you and your friends go.”

He was lying.

He was calling my bluff, and as soon as I thought that, he started to raise his gun.

My mind wasn’t blanking. I wasn’t leaving my body.

I was here. I was present. I wasn’t flipping the switch, but this time, this time I knew exactly what I would do. He gave me no other option.


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