Love Like Poison (Corsican Crime Lord #1) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, Suspense, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Corsican Crime Lord Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
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“See?” Celeste bats her eyelashes. “Bella wants us to stay. Colin is big enough to protect her.” She giggles. “Right, Colin?”

“No problem,” Colin says. “It’s not as if we have to cross town or something. The room is right upstairs.”

Ryan searches my eyes.

“I’ll be fine. Really.” I give him what I hope is a bright smile. “It’s only midnight. After all the trouble you went to with the arrangements, it will be a waste if you leave so early.”

“Fine,” Ryan says in his usual unreadable demeanor. “Call me if you need us. Otherwise, we’ll see you at brunch tomorrow.”

“Maybe. With the way I feel, I’m not sure I’ll make brunch. Thanks for tonight.” I wave at Celeste before Colin steers me toward the door. “Have fun.”

Ryan stares after us. He’s a head taller than the people around him, which makes him stand out in the crowd. I easily keep a visual on him. He stays in the same spot until the door closes behind us, shutting out his image.

The dinging of the slot machines is loud. The floor is packed. I glance around, looking for Angelo in the sea of faces as Colin pulls me to the elevator. Of course he’s not there. It’s only been my imagination. Throwing away his ring was a symbolic act that had such an impact on my psyche it triggered the vision.

We get into the elevator and ride to the top floor. There are only two levels, but I’m glad for Colin’s consideration not to make me navigate the stairs in my heels.

“Where’s your keycard?” Colin asks when we stop in front of my door.

I remove the card from my bag and hand it to him.

“I can stay if you like,” he says. “We can watch a movie or eat all the snacks in the bar fridge.”

“That’s kind, but no.” I need to be alone, and I can’t even tell him why. “I’m going to crawl into bed and sleep forever.”

“Don’t forget Ryan booked the brunch for eleven.”

“Don’t count on me to be up by then.”

“Checking out is at twelve. Do you want me to call you to make sure you’re awake?”

“I’ll set my alarm.”

He inserts the keycard in the slot and opens the door before handing me the card. “Drink a glass of water before you go to bed.”

“Thanks for walking me.” A shiver ripples through me. I glance over my shoulder, but the hallway is empty. “Go back to the party and have fun. It’s not every day that the drinks are on Ryan.”

He smiles. “Night, Bella. Call if you need anything. I’ll keep my phone on me.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Happy birthday. You’re officially inaugurated. Welcome to the tipsy club.”

I finger-wave from over my shoulder as I go inside and shut the door. Darkness and silence wash over me. At last. No more cutting lights and banging music. I utter a sigh of relief, my shoulders sagging when I toe off my shoes.

The headache has grown to an uncomfortable pressure in my skull. I need paracetamol.

I dump my bag on the bench in the entrance and flick on the light switch. The overhead dim lights wash over the room, basking the modern furnishings in a soft golden glow. They dispel the darkness in the corners and illuminates the man who sits in the armchair with an ankle resting on his knee, the shadow he makes on the wall looking larger than life.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

Sabella

My breath catches in my throat. My heart starts pounding, my pulse keeping time in my temples. The beat is like a hammer in my brain.

I stare at the sight in front of me, battling to process that it’s real. That he’s real. That he’s truly here and not just in my head.

“Hello, Sabella,” Angelo says, his voice suave like velvet.

I swallow away the dryness of my mouth. Anger masks my fear. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t think I’d forget your birthday?”

The words are like déjà vu. Their meaning chokes me. “How did you get into my room?”

His lips curve. “With a keycard of course.”

If the receptionist gave him one, he must have bribed her. I return his smile, mine wry. “Money always buys you what you want, doesn’t it?”

He gets up, the movement lithe like a panther’s.

I glance at the door.

“Don’t even think about it,” he says, rounding the bed. “You don’t want me to chase you through the casino with everyone bearing witness.”

I back up, hitting a barrier of bricks as Angelo pauses a step away from me.

Faking calm, I fold my hands behind me and lean on the wall. “It was you.” My accusation is sharp and bitter. “In the club. You were there.” Then it hits me. “You wanted me to see you.”

He cuts a path over me with his gaze. “You look beautiful. It was hard to let you have your fun in that sinfully sexy dress. The only thing that prevented me from dragging you out of the club is that you’ve been a very good girl.” He closes the last step between us, stopping too close. “You didn’t dance with another man. That made me very happy.”


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