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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Nikki walks away and I quickly bolt through the door, stealing myself with a breath as I tiptoe down the stairs and through the hallway. It’s dark and more than a little bit scary down here. While the upstairs is all class and modernly furnished, this part of the building looks like it was gutted and left bare bones. Exposed brick walls line the hallway, making the room feel chillier than it probably is as I creep down the corridor.

There are quite a few rooms down here, but most of the doors I pass are locked. If I had more time, I’d pick them to see what they’re hiding, but I don’t. I need to get to the room at the end of the hall, where the door is propped open and light is spilling onto the concrete floor. The low murmurs inside let me know the meeting has already convened, and when I get close enough, I pause for a moment to listen in.

“There’s a fucking rat in our midst,” someone spits. “A goddamn lying, thieving, low-life fucking rat!”

Shit. Whoever that is sounds pissed.

“Are we sure?” another voice asks. “Maybe they just got lucky.”

A snort. “Are you frigging kidding me with this? They planned this shit down to the T. There ain’t no fucking way they didn’t know what was happening. They went straight for the safe.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” another man says. “Has everyone at the club been vetted?”

This time it’s Lachlan’s voice that responds. “Aye. The employees don’t know any details about the drop. It’d have to be one of our own to give the combination.”

“Now wait just a minute,” a slimy voice responds. One that I recognize as Donovan. “What about your little dancer girl?”

“What dancer girl?”

There’s an uncomfortable pause of silence, and the tray in my hands trembles with my nerves. I can just imagine what Lach’s thinking right now. This can’t be good for me.

“I vetted her myself, Donny,” Lachlan responds in a deadly tone. “Do I need to say it again?”

“All I’m saying is the girl pops up at the fights and the Russians were eyeing her off like a bad piece of meat. Next thing you know she’s working in the club and warming your bed, and then we’ve got the Armenians busting down our doors. Seems like an awful lot of coincidences to me.”

“Need I remind ye that the Armenians tried to kill her?” Lachlan says. “And whether or not she warms my bed is none of your concern. She knows to keep her gob shut. Probably why half the lads don’t know she’s the one who handed your arse to ye at the fights.”

There are some low chuckles and more murmurs before someone makes a loud noise. “Enough.”

The room goes silent, and I have no doubt about who’s speaking now. Niall.

“If Lachlan says she’s vetted, she’s vetted. He knows what’s at stake here.”

My arms are shaking now, threatening to collapse beneath the weight of the tray. I knew it before, but hearing the words now cement it. The threat in Niall’s voice is clear. What I’m doing might very well get Lachlan killed. Just because he’s loyal to Niall doesn’t mean anything. In the mafia, if you screw up you’re dead. For a brief moment, I consider turning around and walking back up the stairs. Finding another way to get the information I need. But then the door upstairs opens, followed by footsteps.

Shit.

My eyes dart around, and there’s nothing around me but closed doors. I’m boxed in and I have no choice.

With a deep breath, I stride into the room, keeping my head down as I start passing out drinks like it’s exactly what I came to do. I can’t meet Lachlan’s eyes, but I can feel them burning into me as I make my way around the table. The man who was behind me walks into the room and takes a seat, none the wiser that I was just outside the door listening in.

When I get to Lachlan, he grabs my wrist in a bruising grip. I glance down at him and bite the inside of my cheek, sensing that the simmering rage in his eyes isn’t going to bode well for me later on.

“Who’s this?” the man beside him asks.

I glance over, and right away I know it’s Sean MacKenna. I haven’t seen him around the VIP area, but I know he’s Niall’s son, and next in line for the throne. Almost a carbon copy of his father, he’s nowhere near as handsome as Lachlan. His eyes are flat and brown, his hair much of the same. There’s not a single remarkable feature that stands out, or anything charming about him really. And yet he eye fucks me like he has every right to.

My gaze swings back to Lach, and the vein in his neck is throbbing furiously. My own chest is heaving with the swell of anxiety. I want nothing more than to run from the room, but I can’t. Almost as if he’s testing me, Lachlan let’s go of my wrist to see what I’ll do.

I walk to Sean’s right and set a drink down for him, only to have him jerk the tray away and pull me into his lap. All I want to do is elbow him in the face. He’d deserve it. But I have to remember why I’m doing this. I have to eliminate any potential suspects. Playing the role I’ve chosen, I let out an obnoxious giggle and act as though I’m flattered by his attention. In actuality, the disgust is rolling off of me in waves.

“She’d do for a running around the house,” Sean says to the room.

Some of the men bust up in laughter, but when I glance at Lachlan, the hurt and rage is clear on his face. Even Ronan is scowling at me in disapproval, and I hate myself at this moment. I don’t want to hurt Lachlan. If this was a test, I just failed miserably. I’ve embarrassed him in front of all of his men, and worst of all his rival.


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