Dirty Wars – The Lion and The Mouse Read Online Kenya Wright

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 248926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1245(@200wpm)___ 996(@250wpm)___ 830(@300wpm)
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“I like that she got rid of them. I never knew this about her. She now has more of my respect.”

“Emily is a good person.”

“But, do you feel like you owe her?”

“No.” I forked some of my eggs. “I want to help her continue to change my neighborhood and even the world. I know it must sound stupid, but—”

“It doesn’t.” He didn’t touch his food. “The problem for me is that I am falling in love with you.”

I held my forkful of eggs in mid-air.

“Your being in Russia forces me to be there, and honestly, I hate the country.”

I lowered my fork. “I think. . .it would be dangerous for you to be in Russia.”

He leaned his head to the side. “Due to King David?”

“Yes, and the rest of the Brotherhood.”

“Guns and Russians don’t scare me.” He pointed my way. “It is the possibility of losing you that keeps me up at night.”

My heartbeats picked up.

The man from earlier brought two steaming cups of coffee and placed them on the table next to us.

Giorgio watched me.

My whole body warmed with heat. “My emotions for you keep getting deeper and deeper. I would want to explore what we have building between us but. . .”

“Once again David and Russia and even the Brotherhood?”

I exhaled a long breath.

“Blue, I don’t care about any of those things, and I will not give up on having you all to myself.”

I widened my eyes. “I do not want David and you fighting and trying to kill each other.”

“Unfortunately, in a situation like this, there is nothing that you can do about it.” Giorgio shrugged. “Perhaps, you should have attracted nicer men. I do not know. Maybe teachers, doctors, or florists. Instead, you lured killers into your web.”

I stared down at my plate. “You had several women. I should have the right to date the both of you too until I have figured this out.”

“You do have that right.”

I looked at him. “I do?”

“And we have the right to kill each other in the process.”

I frowned. “Then, maybe I should end it with the both of you.”

His grin deepened. “I do not know about David, but you cannot end what we have.”

This is crazy.

Giving up, I returned to eating. Perhaps, I sought comfort in the food. At least it was an orchestra of flavors, playing a symphony on my tongue. The croissants had the right amount of butter and melted in my mouth. The eggs were the best I’ve had in my life. The fruit burst with sweet flavor.

Giorgio never ate. He simply sipped his coffee and watched me.

After several minutes of my feasting, he ended the silence. “Do you have any questions for me? We should get to know each other better.”

I swallowed down strawberries and chuckled. “I have tons of questions.”

He held out his gloved hands. “Really?”

“Yes, Giorgio. Really.”

“What is your first question?”

“Why the gloves?”

“I do not want to get my hands dirty.”

“Why not?”

“Germs.”

I shook my head. “Why are you so afraid of germs?”

“I could go on and on about the consequences of germs, but none of that matters.” He shrugged. “My doctor claims that the fear of germs is simply one of many intrusive thoughts that I find difficult to control. Therefore, the gloves help.”

“So, you do have a doctor?”

“Jean-Pierre forces me to see someone twice a month.”

“Do you like it?”

“I do not like delving into uncomfortable memories.”

I leaned back in my chair. “When did these intrusive thoughts start coming?”

“When I was young.” Giorgio began rubbing his fingers with his thumb. “But. . .you are not asking the right questions.”

“I am not?”

“You want to know why I am so weird.”

I quirked my brows. “I think I like you because you are. . .different, yet. . .”

“You still want to know why?”

“I do.”

“Then, let us get this over with.” He moved his hands from my view and placed them under the table. But for some reason, I knew he was still rubbing those fingers over and over. “My father was a holy man.”

“Really?”

Giorgio nodded. “He had a large church, and at times people would pay him to speak about God. Therefore, I grew up very wealthy. We had a massive estate, completely gated, and with many guards. I had a chef, nanny, and several tutors. A chauffer would take me to school.”

So intrigued, I forgot about the food and put all my attention on him. I tried to imagine a young Giorgio living in such a grand place.

“However, within our home, my father was not so godly.” Giorgio looked at the few remaining waiters moving around the room and spoke to them in French. Fast, all of them left. Giorgio turned back to me. “My father and his brothers were heavily involved in the Corsican. His church laundered money. And he could have kept his role at that, but I believe he chose other darker jobs in the Corsican to feed his appetites.”


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