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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Ashton straightened fully, letting go of my hand. “What did he say?”

God. This was embarrassing, but I told him, including how Elijah tried to shut him down.

“I will question Anthony, but again, I’ve never brought a woman there with me. He was making assumptions.”

And that was . . . I had no idea what to even think now.

Ashton turned, motioning for Elijah.

“What did Anthony say to her at Katya tonight?”

His story was the same, but he added on, “He took one look at her, and he wanted her. I tried shutting him up, but he was saying shit that didn’t make sense.” Elijah gave me a pitying look. “How he operates isn’t how Ashton operates. He was wrong. I didn’t get that in earlier.”

I was mortified as the pieces were starting to come together.

I was with Ashton Walden. Who he was, how he looked, his power, his money, even how he walked. It made other people act crazy, which was starting to make sense.

Ashton’s face was unreadable as he studied me, saying to Elijah, “Take her outside. Please.”

Elijah nodded, and I moved ahead of him.

We went past their table. I gave Amy and Nick a small smile, another last way to apologize, but when I saw that woman staring at me, I stopped and leaned into the table. “It’s not that he brings women there on the regular. It’s that he doesn’t bring women there. He brought me tonight, and sorry, honey, but I think I’m pretty fucking special. I got a glimpse into how you think and how you feel, and I can draw comfort. The universe will give you what you deserve. So knowing that, have a nice fucking life.”

Ashton was behind me, then moved closer. “Whoever you are, you’re fired.”

She paled. Others gasped. Mouths dropped again, but Ashton took my hand and led the way back outside. I risked it, squeezing his hand as we got into the waiting SUV.

He linked our fingers in response.

We drove off, and I couldn’t hold back a smile.

I hadn’t completely Shorty Eastered this whole thing.

CHAPTER FORTY

MOLLY

We went to Ashton’s Manhattan apartment. I was dead on my feet when we finally walked inside.

“Do you want a drink?”

Ashton had thawed toward me, significantly. Which I was grateful for, but which also alarmed me because man, when he was pissed, he was like ice. Like the Antarctic ice that doesn’t get thawed.

I shook my head, leaving my purse, impressed with myself that I had kept ahold of it through everything tonight. “No.”

He tossed his keys on the counter, putting his phone and wallet down. Then went to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink. “You sure you don’t want one?”

“Do I need one for this?”

His gaze locked on me. His eyes trailed down my body, and I looked away. I didn’t want to get heated. I didn’t want to want him. I just wanted to go to bed, alone, and wake up and regroup because my head was spinning. No matter what, the fact I reacted so quick and so intensely was scary.

I didn’t like how much he could affect me.

“You were jealous?”

Here we go.

“No. Yes. I—when I kissed you and when I made the first move, it was just sex in my head. It really was. I’ve never looked a gift horse in the mouth. I enjoy the gift and keep it moving. It’s how I’ve survived, so yeah. I was jealous, but I was hurt, and that terrified me. I wasn’t supposed to catch feelings for you. That was never what this was about.” I motioned between us.

“What was it supposed to be about?”

I closed my eyes, counting to five. My chest burned. “Sex. Enjoyment. To feel good for a short time until this is all over. That was it.”

“And how are they now?”

He was so in control, his cool eyes on me, sipping from his drink. He was unruffled, as if he’d been attending a charity event among the rich and famous.

“They’re confusing. Shit got real with me.”

“Define real.” Another sip.

I wanted to take the glass away from him and throw it against the wall, see some sort of reaction from him. He’d thawed, but not enough, and my chest squeezed, because that was on me. All and only on me.

“I caught feelings, and I don’t want feelings. Not for you.”

“Molly.” A low warning from him, but he was still sipping that drink, still looking unruffled, but he wasn’t. He was so ruffled. I felt it under his surface. The dark and dangerous Ashton was there, right there, just simmering. He took another sip, a long sip. “Why not feelings for me?”

I almost laughed. Then I did. “Are you messing with me?”

“Why not me?”

“Ashton! Be serious. You walked in, intending on using me. I was supposed to be bait. You never went through with it. You still could. You should. Tonight proved they want me. I was away from you for thirty seconds, and they were on me.” I raised my chin up, feeling tears coming and needing to stop them. “I’m the perfect bait. You messed up so bad, not using me already. Or hell, too bad those cops were there. They could’ve taken me. I would’ve survived. I come from Shorty Easter. I would’ve gotten away, or worse, let loose my switch on them. I could’ve—”


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