Arranged Deception Read Online C.C. Monroe

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: C.C. Monroe Advertisement1

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I almost say something, but he’s quick to speak again.

“I want you home. You are not allowed to leave here unless you’re with me. We will leave in a few days for the honeymoon, while my men investigate the shooting.”

“Okay.” I’m still fixated on the statement he made moments ago. And the fact that Nico is trying to act so unfazed by his feelings. My safety means something to him, so I have to mean something to him. Right?

Oh God, I have no idea why I’m even entertaining this idea right now.

“Good.”

We don’t speak for a while after that. I’m thankful for this, because if I’m being truly honest, I don’t want this to be anything other than a simple conversation. I don’t want to read into it, and I’m sure he doesn’t either. This is all really messy and overly confusing.

What have the last couple of days of my life been—a cruel fucking joke?

Is someone just out to see me shake and cringe, while I simultaneously become a victim of the hot and cold tension between Nico and me?

My life has never been less than chaotic, but this is a whole new level of crazy. I’m a different person now with a whole new life. Will I ever get to experience “normal”? When will I be able to ice skate, read books, bake, and just exist like a normal person, instead of being controlled by power-hungry men and dodging bullets in a high-crime world?

Oh yeah.

Never.

“You think you know who it could be?” I finally ask, hoping it’s not my father’s name he spits out.

What would that mean for me, if he found out about my father and me?

Death. He would kill me… end me for sure. I just know it.

“Chicago, maybe. Last we heard, there were some insiders who turned against their boss. Maybe they wanted to prove dominance, and seeing as they were the last once before New York who we made peace with, maybe they picked us.”

I inwardly sigh in relief. Nico isn’t onto us yet. That’s all I need to breathe a little easier.

So why does this make me feel guilty? I’m the middle man in this battle, and I’m doing all the dirty work—well, supposed to be.

That’s why. Aren’t I just as evil for being a spy against my new husband? To know, with just the right insight, I will end this man and his entire outfit?

I can feel the blood on my hands suddenly. It’s ironic and cynical at the same time. I’m patching his wounds, my hands literally covered in his blood in this moment, when soon, his death, his undoing, will be because of me. His blood will then stain my hands for the rest of my life.

And just as suddenly, I realize… I can’t do this. No matter how much I hate Nico, I can’t be like my father. I never want to be.

But how will I escape that? Should I stay with Nico and let my father kill me, or betray Nico and have him killed? Either way, death happens, and I have to make a choice on who is more important.

Nico or me?

CHAPTER FIVE

NICO

It has to be Chicago. They were the last ones we made peace with, and knowing they had insiders turn bad, it just makes sense. I demanded Giulio to investigate it.

They got away before we could catch them, so the only thing we can do is lie low and be stealthy with our movements. For now, I’m sitting in my bedroom being stitched up by Dr. Fontelo and going over every detail I can remember from the shootout. But the only thing I can seem to recall is Emelia. Seeing her in the crossfire of whatever war some unknown force is waging on me.

I look to where Emelia sits in her ripped and bloody silk dress, the material not hiding any part of her curves, softness, or weight that I salivate over. She is the bane of my existence, yet all I could think about was her safety. Even after she pissed me off when I gave her the pearls.

My mother’s pearls.

Emelia doesn't know that was a meaningful gesture in response to her saying she was waving the white flag. I was stupid to think she really would, and the realization she lied was solidified when she didn't say thank you for giving her such a gift.

My mother was a fucking saint, and I handed her most precious jewelry over to someone who couldn’t care less. What was I thinking? I’m a fucking idiot for letting her have something that was once so special to my mom, and one of the only items of hers that I kept. I’m a fucking fool, and I slapped that label on all by myself. When Emelia brushed off my gift, I wanted to yank the pearls from her neck, but that would have broken the prized possession, and I couldn't do that to my mother.


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