Mobsters & Mistletoe Read Online Kenya Wright

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia Tags Authors: Kenya Wright Advertisement1

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The space stretched endlessly, filled with rows upon rows of designer clothes.

Hmmm. Anthony has style.

The variety was staggering—suits, shirts, jeans, all perfectly aligned and organized. Each piece seemed to have been carefully selected to match my size and style, a feat that was both impressive and again slightly unsettling.

For a moment, as I ran my fingers over the fine fabrics, a weird sensation washed over me.

It felt almost as if Anthony was courting me, the way a man might try to impress a woman with gifts and attention. The thought was absurd, yet it lingered in my mind, a bizarre twist in our already complex relationship.

Is this how Zuri felt when I surprised her with a designer shopping spree?

My eyes wandered to the shoes, an array of styles from casual to formal, all of them exuding luxury and comfort.

Not bad, Siren. Or should I call you Two-Timing Tony?

I couldn't help but admire them, each pair more exquisite than the last. It was clear that no expense had been spared in putting together this collection.

Then, I came across the boxer briefs and blinked.

Oh. This too. . .

It was a variety of brands and styles, all brand new and in my size.

So. . .how did he know my size?

The idea of another man buying me underwear was both ludicrous and a level of personal detail that I hadn't expected.

Hmmm.

I stared at them.

Forget about that. Focus on getting Zuri tonight.

I shook off the strange feeling and picked out an outfit, deciding on a sleek, designer long-sleeved black shirt paired with matching pants.

I laid everything out on my massive bed, undressed, and headed to the bathroom.

Anthony was right. I couldn't show up to Zuri, sweaty and stained in death.

The door to the bathroom closed behind me with a satisfying click.

Cool, tiled floor smoothed against my feet.

I leaned against the wall and took a deep breath, letting the peace and solitude wash over me.

I'll be showering without a bunch of killers around me.

In that moment, it struck me just how different this Christmas was going to be. Last year, the cold, unyielding walls of a prison cell had been my reality.

I was out now breathing in air without the filter of bars and high walls.

Yet, this newfound freedom brought with it a philosophical battle that I hadn't fully anticipated.

In prison, life had been brutally simple. The choices were few, the routines set, and the expectations clear. There was a strange comfort in that simplicity.

An odd freedom from the complexities and uncertainties of the outside world.

But out here. . .freedom meant navigating a complex maze of decisions, relationships, and moral quandaries. It was a relentless, often unforgiving world where each choice could lead to countless consequences—both seen and unforeseen.

Survival would be like walking a tightrope between right and wrong, loyalty and betrayal.

Doesn't matter.

I exhaled.

I'm happy and blessed to be out.

A minute later, I stepped into the high-tech shower and turned on the water.

Soothing liquid cascaded down my body, enveloping me in warmth.

Steam rose around my legs and mingled with the scent of my cologne body wash. The fragrance was a blend of earthy and fresh notes that reminded me of a rain-soaked forest in crisp morning air.

And all of it was therapeutic.

Each drop felt like a miniature massage, targeting my deep-seated aches.

The rhythmic sound of the water hitting the floor added a serene ambiance.

Calm seeped into my skin, unwinding the knots in my muscles and loosening the stiffness in my joints.

And the grime and sweat of the night washed away.

I closed my eyes, allowing myself to be fully immersed in the sensory experience.

After what felt like an eternity, the shower finally finished.

I opened my eyes and stepped out of the enclosure.

Yeah. Anthony was right. I needed this.

Reaching for the soft, plush towel set beside it, I dried off my body with long strokes until I was fully refreshed.

But, I don't like that he knew that. Why not?

Frowning, I stepped out of the bathroom and dressed.

The whole time, I considered what had me on edge with Anthony.

Perhaps, it was the fact that the invisible barrier around me, was slowly crackling when he was around.

He's slipping onto my important people list and. . .I don't want any more people on there.

I looked at myself in the mirror, the new clothes fitting perfectly, as if they were made just for me.

Fucking Anthony.

It was a strange feeling, being on the receiving end of such generosity, especially from someone whose motives I couldn't fully understand.

A part of me wanted to believe in the possibility of a genuine alliance, but another part remained wary, alert to the potential risks and hidden agendas.

Freshly changed, I headed out, sat down to a plate of food waiting for me, and was halfway through a burger, when the doorbell rang, echoing through the condo.

Anthony laughed and grabbed my attention. “There you go, Reaper! I told you that I got you.”


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