God of Vengeance (Kings of Mafia #5) Read Online Michelle Heard

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Mafia, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Kings of Mafia Series by Michelle Heard
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 84756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
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A painful gasp from her has me instantly easing my grip, and I quickly crouch down so I can check the stab wound to her side. I’ve stabbed enough people in my time to know whether the wound is serious or not, and I let out a breath when I see it’s not too serious.

I straighten up again, and there are no words to say what I feel as I see the breaths rushing over her lips. The fight and life shining from her eyes ease the tension in my chest.

She’s alive.

The realization shudders through me again, and I thank all that’s holy that I got to her in time.

“You’re bleeding,” she says as she reaches her bloody hand to my face.

“It’s not mine,” I mutter while I grip hold of her hand. Feeling how fucking cold she is, I’m hit by another wave of anger.

“Damiano!” I hear Dario shout.

Taking a step back from Gabriella, my eyes flick over the lace bra and panties, and I quickly take off the bulletproof vest so I can get the long-sleeved shirt off my body.

Once I have the shirt covering my wife, Carlo hands me his coat, and I quickly wrap it around her.

I hate that Carlo saw her half naked, but I’m too relieved to feel any anger.

When I bend to pick her up, she shakes her head. “No. I can walk.”

“The fuck you can,” I snarl.

“Damiano,” she snaps at me.

Our eyes lock, and she lifts her chin. “I will walk out of here. I need your men to see I haven’t been broken.”

Holy fucking Christ.

As much as I hate the idea of her walking barefoot, I relent because this is important to her.

She wants to show them she’s their queen, and that no matter what’s thrown her way, she will survive. Nothing can break her.

Standing in the middle of the fucking woods on an icy winter’s day with blood soaking into the ground, I fall in love with Gabriella all over again.

Needing to touch her, I wrap my arm around her shoulders before we walk back through the trees.

When Dario and Angelo come into sight, I drop my arm from around her and take hold of her left hand where her blood is drying and link our fingers.

“Is everyone okay?” Dario asks as we reach him.

“Yes,” I reply.

When we break through the trees, all the men of the Cosa Nostra, one by one, look in our direction.

Gabriella tightens her grip on my hand, and I hear her suck in a trembling breath before she pushes through her pain and walks toward the nearest SUV.

Once I have her safely inside the vehicle, I wrap my fingers around the back of her neck and press my forehead to hers. “I’m so fucking proud of you, mia regina.”

She nods, her skin way too fucking pale.

Letting go of her, I turn to face my men.

“Clean up the shit and go home to your families,” I order.

“Yes, boss,” the chorus sounds up.

Glancing at the other four heads, I nod my thanks to them before locking eyes with Angelo. “Keep my mother with you until I come to get her.”

“Take your time,” he replies. “Vitorria will love the company.”

Only then do I lock eyes with Stefano, where he’s being restrained by Emilio and Vito.

“Take the fucker to the warehouse. I’ll deal with him later.”

They nod before shoving him into an SUV.

Looking at Tommy, I order, “Take a team of men and go to Sicily. Bring me Cettina Ferraro and the di Bella family alive. Make them think they’re coming for the wedding.”

I want to break the news to them in person that they’re going to die. I want to savor their fear before they’re killed.

With all the orders out of the way, I climb into the backseat and pull Gabriella into my arms.

She’s shaking like a leaf in a fucking shitstorm, and I struggle not to hold her too tight.

Carlo slides behind the steering wheel, and Renzo takes the passenger seat.

“I’ve let the clinic know we’re coming,” he informs me while tossing a first-aid bag at me.

I quickly open the bag, and taking out antiseptic wipes, I move the clothes out of the way so I can get to the stab wound on Gabriella’s side.

Once it’s as clean as it can be in the backseat of the fucking SUV, I grab some gauze and pressing it firmly against the wound, I order, “Hold it in place.”

She does as I instruct while I dig out an adhesive dressing, and when I have it stuck to her skin, I take a few seconds to clean the puncture marks from where they stapled the fucking paper to her stomach.

“I’m fine,” she mutters. “I can hold out until we get to the clinic.”

I only nod as I take hold of Gabriella’s chin, nudging her face up so she’ll look at me.


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