 by Nichole Rose.jpg)
Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Before they fell head-over-heels, the Valentino brothers ruled Chicago with iron wills and closed fists. Now, the men in their inner circle are taking the reins and taking the plunge into their own deliciously wicked happily-ever-afters. The streets of Chicago will run red as these bad boys set out to tame the curvy women fate has in store for them. And they'll take no prisoners along the way.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
Diego
"You were supposed to get me off on all charges!" Sweat drips down Donato Burciaga's red face as he shouts loud enough for the entire building to hear. Apparently, he confused lawyer with miracle worker again. It's not the first time. The son of a bitch seems to think I'm God, capable of making every shred of evidence against him vanish into thin air.
Unfortunately for him, it doesn't work that way, even for a lawyer as good as me. Not when he's too stupid to cover his tracks, anyway. He left his fingerprints all over the crime scene, didn't wipe the cameras that put him there, and left his victim alive to tell the sordid tale when he was done.
Most of my clients are smart enough to clean up after themselves. It's part of the job when you're in the mafia. But Donato Burciaga is not one of the smart ones. The fact that he's yelling at me now is testament to that fact.
I may not be the worst thing that walks the streets of Chicago. That title is reserved for Rafe Valentino, the Capo dei Capi. But I have no illusions about where I'm headed when I die. The devil has a spot reserved for me.
I'm guessing the horned bastard probably put it right beside Valentino's sauna just to make sure eternity lasts as long as possible for both of us. The Capo dei Capi is my brother-in-law. He's also the man who murdered my biological father.
I spent most of my life hellbent on razing his empire to the ground…only to walk away from that plan a year ago. Right about the time it damn near cost my adopted sister, Amalia, her life.
Rafe helped me rescue her the night Tommaso Genovese found out she was the only remaining Cerrito heir and kidnapped her. We left a trail of bodies in our wake trying to bring her home. There's nothing like a murder spree to bring people together. The two of us aren't necessarily friends now, but we aren't enemies anymore, either. We're whatever you call two men willing to work together to keep a woman happy. He worships the ground my sister walks on. I owe her more than I can ever repay. It's an uneasy alliance, but it works for us.
"Are you listening to me?" Donato slams his hand down on the edge of my desk.
I flick my gaze to him, my temper rising. He's a piss-ant in this city. I'm a boot. I could squash him with a single phone call. He'd do well to remember it.
"Lower your fucking voice when you speak to me," I warn him.
"Fuck my voice!" he shouts, spittle flying from the corner of his thin lips. "I hired you to defend me, not send me to fucking prison, Butera. This plea deal is bullshit."
I pinch the bridge of my nose, reaching deep for a little patience. Getting blood out of carpet is a bitch. Been there, tried that. "This plea deal is your only hope of getting out of there in the next ten years, Donato. You left a witness alive to point the finger at you. What did you think was going to happen?"
"I thought the porca puttana was dead," he mutters sullenly.
"Yeah, well, he wasn't, so sign the goddamn agreement," I snap, leaning back in my chair with my arms crossed. I hit him with a hard look, letting him know I'm done with his bullshit. "Or go to trial and spend the next thirty years in jail. Either way, you were too fucking stupid to make sure he wasn't breathing. You were also too stupid to wipe the cameras and clean up your prints. I'm a lawyer, not God. This is the best I can do when you left a treasure trove of evidence for the DA to choose from. You don't like the consequences? You should have taken the time to do the job right. This is your mess. The Capo expects you to deal with the consequences."
No one else is going to do it for him. We certainly aren't going to stick our necks out to save him from his own fuck up. There's only so much I can do, and I've given him all the help he's going to get from La Cosa Nostra on this one. We protect our own, but not when they put us all at risk. Donato should have been smarter, plain and simple.
His expression twists as he snatches up the pen setting atop the plea deal the ADA sent over. "Should have hired Lorenzo Bianchi," he mutters, inking the agreement hard enough to tear a small hole in the paper. "At least he knows how to talk to people."
"You mean he knows how to kiss your ass."
Donato shoots me a baleful glare but doesn't disagree. The story is always the same for motherfuckers like him. He thinks being Made makes him special. As if he's someone just because he took the oath and made a few bucks along the way. The only thing special about him is the fact that he's survived this long without a brain in his head.