Coerced Queen (New York Underworld #3) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: New York Underworld Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
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Goddamn.

I thought I prepared myself, that I could stomach it, but being so close to her and smelling her summery scent in the house already fucks with my head and my cock. My dick never got the message that the rest of my body is second-grade goods and better off not being on the sexual grid for a while. Or ever.

I mull over that, and the next thing I know, Livy wakes me up with a cup of coffee and tells me the physiotherapist arrived for my next torture session.

Chapter

Twelve

Anya

* * *

The first thought that hits me when Claire wakes me up at five is that Saverio didn’t come to bed. I wish he’d stop pushing us away. It’s not going to help in dealing with what happened or in moving on.

When Claire is fed, bathed, and dressed, I leave her on a play mat beneath an arch of colorful toys in our room while I rush through my morning routine with the bathroom door open so that I have her in my sight. I dress hurriedly, opting for comfortable slacks, a blouse, and a blazer. Claire is happy to kick her little legs and to stare at the objects dangling within her reach, so I take a little extra time to apply make-up and curl my hair. I want to look pretty for Saverio.

Livy is in the kitchen when I go downstairs with Claire for breakfast. I do a double take. My fairy godmother wears a black T-shirt with a get down and dirty slogan, a denim skirt, and fishnet stockings with ankle boots. She tied her silver hair in a sleek, high ponytail, and her make-up is darker than usual. Big silver hoops hang from her ears.

I put Claire in her baby carrier and go to the fridge. “What’s with the babe look?”

“Mornin,’” she chirps, removing a tray of delicious-smelling chocolate chip cookies from the oven.

Grinning, I take out the spirulina and coconut water mixture that Livy insists is good for my breastmilk production. “Going somewhere?”

She puts the baking tray on the stovetop. “With you to the office actually.”

I grab a cookie and bite into it. Ouch. Still hot.

“You are?” I ask around the cookie in my mouth.

Yum.

Saverio’s voice reaches us from down the hallway. “Goddammit.” A thud follows that sounds like something hitting the wall. “Motherfucking fuck.”

It’s loud, even from behind the closed door of his study.

Livy sighs. “Physiotherapy.”

Concern tightens my chest. “Has it been like this the whole time?”

“Since he started at seven.” She gives me a meaningful look. “I think he can do with a little space.”

Understanding dawns. “Ah.” Hence coming with me to After Dark.

I often take Claire with me. It’s easier for the logistics of breastfeeding. She sleeps in the baby carrier that attaches to her stroller while I work. Dante’s had the privilege of pushing her up and down the hallway when I battle to get her to settle, but she’s mostly an easy baby who only cries when she’s hungry, tired, or when her diaper is wet.

We walk into the club just after eight with me carrying Claire and Livy charged with my laptop and the diaper bag.

Dante, who sits at the bar counter with a cup of coffee in front of him, gets to his feet.

He doesn’t quite succeed in hiding his smile when he looks at Livy. “Wow, Liv. Are you going on a date?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Unceremoniously shoving my bags into his arms, she asks, “Where do you want me?”

“Huh?” Dante gives her a panty-dropping smile. “Did I miss the invite? You should’ve told me I was your plus-one. I would’ve worn my special aftershave.”

She pokes him on the shoulder. “I’m here to work, wiseass, not to entertain you with my delightful company.”

He sneaks a mischievous wink my way before saying, “We’re short on bar staff.”

Surprising both Dante and me, she goes behind the bar counter and grabs a dishcloth from the stash that she eloquently drapes over her shoulder. “Count me in. I’ve always wanted to serve cocktails with names that sound like sex to gorgeous men and beautiful women.”

Dante and I share a look.

“I just need someone to point me toward the recipes for the mixes,” she says with her hands propped on her hips.

“I’ll get the barman to show you,” Dante says. “We’re catering for a business lunch meeting today.”

“Can’t wait,” she says, flashing him a glossy, red smile. “What if there’s trouble?”

Dante frowns. “Trouble?”

I enjoy the show too much to help Dante out of his misery. Instead, I watch from the sidelines, not feeling one bit sorry for dumping him in hot oil and leaving him there to fry to a crisp.

“You know,” Livy says. “Bar brawls and that kind of trouble.”

Dante’s lips quirk. “If anyone gives you shit, Liv, don’t hesitate to call a bouncer.”


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