Cruel Tyrant Read Online B.B. Hamel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
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“Yes, but the longer you make them wait, the worse it’ll be. I’ll hold them off.” I slip past her, and before I go downstairs, I look back at her and reach out to grab her waist. She’s surprised when I lean forward and kiss her neck. “You’ll be fine,” I whisper in her ear.

Then she retreats into the bathroom, dragging her suitcase after her, and I head downstairs.

My mother is in the kitchen setting up the electric kettle and whistling to herself. Freddie Bianco is a fit woman in her sixties with short hair and an impeccable sense of style. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in anything but slacks and a silky blouse—what my older brother Simon refers to as the rich lady uniform.

“Where are you hiding her, darling?” Mom asks using a sing-song voice. She gives me her trademark smile, one of the warmest looks I’ve ever seen in my life, and I’m instantly put at ease. That’s her super power—no matter who’s around, she manages to make them feel comfortable.

I’m not worried about Stefania meeting Mom. That’ll go just fine. It’s everyone else I’m nervous for.

“We just got off a plane. She’s getting changed before you animals paw at her like she’s a pig in a petting zoo.”

“Oh, you’re too hard on us, dear.” Mom puts out three mugs and drops a tea bag in each. “We’re just excited to meet your new wife, that’s all.”

“Go easy on her. This is a lot.”

“She’s from a family like ours, isn’t she?” Mother’s eyebrows raise. “That means she’s probably used to it.”

I have to admit that she has a point, but I’m feeling strangely protective of my wife and don’t want her getting overwhelmed in her very first hour in her new house. It’s bad enough that my living arrangements are very unconventional, and she’ll have to get used to how open everything is, but now she’s getting thrown to the wolves.

Mom’s not concerned though, and once the water’s boiled and poured, Stefania appears in the kitchen doorway looking absolutely immaculate.

I have no idea how she did it, but she put on a pair of jeans and a simple button-down shirt with a chunky belt, and she somehow looks as if she stepped out of an Instagram model’s most recent post. Her hair is thick and dark and hangs in waves around her shoulders, and even though she didn’t have time to do anything with it, I swear it somehow shines brighter in the kitchen lights.

My mother rushes over to greet her. They hug, exchange cheek kisses, and Mom steers her over to the island where the tea’s waiting, and proceeds to pepper her with questions. She asks about Stefania’s family, about her parents and siblings, about her job at the law firm, and they immediately hit it off. Mom makes Stefania relax, and I’m grateful that she came over first, though I’m willing to bet Dad’s keeping everyone else away so Mom can lay the groundwork.

And on cue, the rest of the animals come storming into my house without so much as knocking. Simon’s first, my tall older brother with his square jaw and angry eyes, followed by Elena with her jangling bracelets and her shoulder-length hair. They greet Stefania happily, while Laura lurks on the edges of everything, my petite youngest sister decked out in black and looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.

Dad brings up the rear. He’s in his sixties like Mom with salt-and-pepper hair and a hard stare that never fails to make people feel like he’s peeling off their skin and inspecting their insides. Stefania’s passed around to everyone and I step back away from the conversation to stand with Laura near the couches.

“You’re married,” she says, arms crossed over her chest. “Should I say congratulations?”

“Probably not, but I’m handling it.”

“What’s she like?” My sister glances up at me. “Are you going to kill her?”

I try not to smile. That’s exactly the kind of question she’d ask. Laura’s like me—there’s something missing in her, or there’s something that was taken away a long time ago. We understand each other better than anyone else in the family, and we’ve always been sort of outsiders together. Angelo, Simon, and Elena take after my parents; Laura and I are something else completely.

“No, I’m not going to kill her,” I say very softly. “I think she’s going to be useful.”

“Useful?” Her eyebrows raise. “She’s a mafia princess. Isn’t she just some spoiled little brat?”

“I haven’t decided yet, but I don’t think so.”

Laura snorts and shakes her head. “Everyone else will make nice and bend over backwards so she feels at home, but don’t expect me to give a shit.”

“I wouldn’t dare, darling sister.”

“As far as I’m concerned, she’s a liability. Honestly, what was Dad thinking, making you get married?” A bit of worry slips into her tone. “You’re okay, aren’t you? With all this?”


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