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
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 105065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
<<<<31321222324253343>89
Advertisement2


I’m selfish for feeling this way. For letting this fear control me. But I can’t think about that now. So I glance at the menu and pretend that I come to places like this all the time. I order Chilean Sea Bass and Lachlan orders a steak and a glass of Patron on ice for me… just the way I like it. Under any other circumstances I’d be surprised that he picked up on such a detail, but this is a man who’s constantly watching his surroundings.

When I lick the salt off the rim and take a sip, I belatedly realize the more likely reason he remembered it. His eyes are intense as he watches my little performance of squeezing the lime and sucking the juice off my thumb.

“Nothing for you?” I ask sweetly.

“Not yet.” He leans forward on his elbows. “We’ll have a drink at the club.”

We. He said we. He’s taking me to dinner, and now he’s talking about drinks? Red flags are popping up everywhere here. He might be attracted to me, but I know he doesn’t like me. There’s a big difference, and it’s written all over his face. He’s suspicious as hell and I highly suspect he kind of wishes I’d just disappear. So what’s with all the other stuff? I can’t figure it out.

“I thought you real Paddy’s only drank the black stuff,” I tease.

He scowls at me and sits back in his chair without a response. Sheesh. Case and point.

The waiter brings our food and we eat in silence. It’s all so very… date like. If I were on a date with a serial killer who was sizing me up like his prey, but whatever. Lucky for me, Lachlan and I are both in the business of keeping secrets, so there’s no need to fill the silence. In fact, I like that he’s okay with it. Sometimes just glaring at each other across the table is enough.

By the time we’re through with our meals, it’s time for me to go to work. Lachlan pays and escorts me back out to the car. He even opens my door for me, which really freaks me out. Surely he’s not trying to woo me. Right?

I don’t have to wonder about it for long. As we drive, I discover the real reason he took me out.

“A couple things I need to go over, Mack.”

“I’m all ears.” I cross my legs and give him my full attention.

“I’m still not convinced this club is the right place for a girl like you.”

“Whatever the fuck that means,” I retort.

He shoots me a glare and then continues on. “I’ve done my homework on you.”

I turn my attention back to the city. “I’m not surprised.”

“Have ye got a problem with the Russians?” he asks.

My chest constricts, but I try to maintain my cool. There’s no way he could know my plan. No way in hell. But why else would he be asking?

“No problem,” I say.

“Word is your oul’ man lost a fight.”

“He didn’t fuckin’ lose a fight,” I snarl. “He was jumped in a dark alley…”

“That’s exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about,” Lachlan says. “Ye’re gonna have to keep that shite under wraps if ye want to work for me. We get plenty of Russians in the club.”

I shut my mouth and cross my arms. That’s what he thinks? This is about my father. I guess, in a way, it partly is. But I’ve let my emotions show too easily. A rookie mistake.

“That why ye’re here, Mack?” he asks. “Have ye got it in your head to get some revenge?”

I go the obvious route of denying it.

“I just want to work. I don’t care about the Russians.”

Lachlan nods and taps his fingers against his thigh again. A gesture I still can’t quite make out. Does it mean he’s nervous, agitated, anxious? His expression gives nothing away. “Another thing, Mack.”

He waits until I give him my full attention before he goes on.

“There’s only one rule ye must abide by at all times if ye’re in my employ. You don’t ever… and I mean fucking ever… talk to the cops about anything.”

“Are you outta your mind?” I’m genuinely offended by his comment. “I’m from Southie. I ain’t no fuckin’ snitch.”

At least I wasn’t. Until Talia. Now, I don’t care. I’ll sing like a canary if it puts these guys away. Fuck what anybody else says.

“Jaysus, woman,” he sighs. “Ye clean up your fecking mouth before I do it for you. You want to work for me ye better start acting like a lady.”

“I am a goddamn lady.” I grin.

He shakes his head. I really like pushing his buttons, and I don’t know why. This is probably not going to end so well.

“One more thing,” he says as we pull up to the club.

I swivel in my seat and meet his intense gaze with questioning eyes. The hand at his side is tapping more insistently now, and the next words out of his mouth tell me exactly why.

“I’d rather not have to kill you.”

Here it is. The reality of the situation I’m in. I heed his warning for exactly what it is. I simply nod, and this time, there’s no grin on my face. I can tell by his tone he’s dead serious.

“Don’t give me a reason to, butterfly.”

“I won’t,” I choke out. Another lie.

Without another word, he gets out of the car and escorts me into the building. We walk straight past the bouncers and into the back, where he points at another girl warming up on stage.

“That’s Sasha,” he says. “She’ll help you get settled in.”

I nod and turn to go when he grabs me by the arm with a firm grip. “Remember what I said, Mack. Appetizer only.”

Chapter Eight

Mackenzie

Sasha is the female embodiment of natural beauty. She’s petite with soft curves and a body that I’m sure most men have a hard time looking away from. Her hair is a natural dark and her eyes blue like my own. Except where I’m hard, she’s sweet and soft spoken. She reminds me a little of Talia that way, and she actually turns out to be pretty nice. She grew up in Dot so she’s like a neighbor to me. Instantly, that makes us friends of course. We take care of our own in these parts of Boston.


Advertisement3

<<<<31321222324253343>89

Advertisement4