Gareth (Billionaire’s Game #5) Read Online Samantha Whiskey

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: Billionaire's Game Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 64885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
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And now she was my wife.

On paper.

She was only my wife on paper.

It was the only way I could protect her while also not stealing her virginity, like some villain lurking in the shadows.

I would only take the time I needed to ensure her independence and safety from her family before releasing her from the binding contract to me. Because the last thing she needed was to be tied to another mobster’s life, even an ex one.

I clicked the button that opened the gates, and I saw my brother on the camera make a finally gesture before he got back in his car and drove through.

I made sure to watch the gates close behind him, my eyes lingering on the screen for a few more seconds to ensure nobody had followed him.

Fucking hell, it had been at least two years since I'd had to seriously worry about a physical attack on my property, let alone on me. I thought I'd left that life behind the minute I went legitimate and excluded myself from that part of my family’s lives.

We were all still on good terms, not because I had a plethora of legitimate businesses that were successful, but because my family didn't hold my personal choices against me. I was lucky in that regard, where Serenity wasn’t.

A flare of anger worked its way up my spine, and I had to rotate my neck in an attempt to get rid of the sensation. Every time I thought about what that asshole Doyle planned to do with her, I could almost feel the weight of the gun in my hand and the sweet satisfaction of squeezing the trigger.

I backed away from my desk, pacing the length of my office, doing my best to count the amount of book spines I could see on one shelf in order to ground myself.

I'd had to undergo a shit-ton of therapy after I removed myself from the more criminal activities of my family, but it wasn't like I ever forgot how to be a killer. Especially not when I’d been raised to believe it was normal. And while I had promised myself I’d never pick up a gun again, I knew when it came to Serenity, there were no lines I wouldn't cross—no promises I wouldn’t break—in order to keep her safe.

I could only hope that Doyle would be intimidated enough, not only by me, but by the family I had behind me, to stay the fuck away.

I didn't hear Dante’s approach, not when he and Brooks had been trained to be as silent as cats, but there was something in the air that I felt when he made it just outside my office. I opened the door moments before he barged through it and ushered him inside before closing it again.

“A loving brotherly visit before breakfast?” I asked in my most sardonic tone. “I feel so lucky.”

Dante took the liberty of sitting in the leather chair behind my desk, kicking up his feet as he smirked at me. He was already dressed to the nines in a dark maroon suit, the soles of his dress shoes matching the fabric color.

“A before-breakfast visit was a must, little brother,” he said.

I held his gaze. He was only a few years older than me, and we looked closer to twins, except he kept his hair high and tight whereas I let mine grow a little wild.

And I had more ink than he did.

“Say what you came here to say, Dante,” I finally said, sitting in the chair across from my own desk.

“I must have missed the memo where we were planning to piss off the Irish,” he said, tilting his head. “Why don't you bring me up to speed?”

“I’m sure Brooks already gave you a full report or you wouldn’t be here.”

“True,” he said. “But I’d like to hear it from you.”

“The Irish Princess called in a favor,” I said. “She won a favor chip from me several games back when she was sitting in for her father.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, what if she'd given it to O'Brien?” Dante asked, shifting his feet off the desk and sitting up straight in the chair.

“I knew she wouldn't,” I said, even though I hadn't been one-hundred-percent certain when I lost the chip to her. But clearly, my hunch had been correct.

Dante shook his head. “Your businesses are the only clean ones we have a hand in. Jeopardizing it over a turf war is stupid. Annul it.”

“I'm not annulling it until I know that Serenity is safe from the repercussions of the favor she called in.”

Dante raked his palms over his face, exasperation written in every line.

“And I have no interest in a turf war,” I added before he could keep lecturing me. “I may hate O'Brien, but the last thing I want is a war.”


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