Crow Read Online A. Zavarelli (Boston Underworld #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Boston Underworld Series by A. Zavarelli
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 105065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
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She gives me a look that says she doesn’t quite believe it, so I change the subject. One thing I’ve learned is that people are generally satisfied to talk about themselves, and Cara’s no exception to that rule. When I ask her how she met Dominic, she prattles on for the next twenty minutes about it while I down two glasses of Patron.

“So you don’t have a problem living this life?” I ask when she comes up for air.

She shrugs and starts tearing at the napkin beneath her cocktail glass. “It’s not so bad. I mean, I know most people wouldn’t agree with it. I grew up with the Italians, so I know this world. I know what it involves. But these guys, right here? They’re good men. They don’t deal in anything that I’m losing sleep over.”

The conviction in her voice almost has me believing it for a moment. It’s obvious she believes it. So where does that leave me? I want to ask her more about it, but I think I might need to ply her with a little more alcohol first. I order us another round and continue.

“So you’ve never had any problems with them?”

“No way,” she says. “They treat their women good, as long as you play by the rules.”

There’s that contingency. As long as you play by the rules.

“I know it can be pretty overwhelming at first,” she says. “But you get used to it after a while. I couldn’t ask for a better man than Dom. These guys protect and cherish their women, I’ll tell you that much.”

“He seems like a good guy,” I agree. It’s complete crap, because at this moment I’ve decided to hate all men. But I need to make Cara feel like a friend so I can get more information out of her.

The bartender delivers our drinks and we talk for another ten minutes before the alcohol starts to affect Cara.

“Ugh,” she groans. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Yeah, me too.” I help her to her feet and make the journey with her, knowing that normal females my age love to do this kind of stuff together for some odd reason. When I glance across the room, Lach’s engrossed in conversation with one of the pretty blondes. Fuck him. Fuck them both.

I don’t bother to tell anyone where we’re going. We’ll only be a few minutes and the bathroom is just outside the hall.

Once inside, I go about my business and continue to talk through the stall. Cara is being very quiet, and I worry I may have gotten her too drunk. But when I fix my dress and step outside, I see exactly why she’s being quiet.

Two men are inside the bathroom with us, and one’s got a gun pressed against her temple, while the other is pointing at me. Both the guns have silencers attached, and somehow I know without asking these guys are part of the Armenian crew. I glance at Cara and she’s shaking like a leaf.

Shit. Fuck. Shit. There’s no way for me to try to defend myself while they’re holding her like that. They’d put a bullet in her head before I could even finish dealing with the first guy. Assuming I didn’t get shot too in the process.

“You’re coming with us,” the man pointing at me barks. “Move quietly, or your friend here dies.”

Cara releases a sob, and it earns her a hard slap to the face. Fricken hell. There’s no way out of this without following their demands until they let their guard down.

“It’s okay, Cara,” I tell her in a soothing tone. “Just stay calm and do as they say.”

She shoots me a pleading glance and I give her a reassuring smile though inside I’m a nervous wreck. I know the likelihood of us surviving once we leave this building is not very good. But there’s little choice in the matter at this point. I’m suspicious as hell that we were literally in the bathroom for two minutes before they came for us. Almost like they were waiting or someone alerted them. Something I’ll have to think about later.

I step forward and the other man grabs me by the arm. They lead us from the bathroom and down the hallway towards a side exit, digging the guns into our ribs.

“Scream and you die,” one of them threatens.

I think of Lachlan inside the party sitting with his pretty marriage prospects. Will he even notice I’m gone? Maybe not. But Cara is a wife, and that’s something. Dom will notice. And then what? They’ll have to find us. That will take time. I can’t count on that. I watch both men carefully as we walk, trying to look for any opportunity I can. It doesn’t come.

At the end of the hall, two of Niall’s men are slumped face down into the carpet. I don’t have to see the bullet holes to know they’re already dead. These guys are fricken crazy, coming in here like this and shooting people up in a hotel. Panic is slowly engulfing me, but I can do nothing. If I didn’t believe it before, I know now they won’t hesitate to put a bullet inside of us too. My only hope is that they’re going to use us for ransom or something. Anything that will keep us alive for a while until I can figure out what to do.

The moment we’re out the side door, we’re tossed into the back of a van and burning rubber down a back street. Cara’s practically hyperventilating and can barely keep it together as they tie us up. I worry that they’ll shoot her if she keeps at it.

“Cara,” I whisper. “You have to stay calm okay?”

“Shut up!” one of the men bellows at me.

Then he says something in a different language, and the other one nods. I don’t understand what it is until it’s too late. Until he moves behind me and slams the butt of his gun into the back of my skull.


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