Sinful Promise – Valverde Mafia Read Online B.B. Hamel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
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“Do you think I really could?” I wiggle my hips again and feel my clit grinding against his shaft. He laps my nipples and kisses my neck. “Are you sure I can do it?”

“I believe in you, Adrienne. Next time, pull the trigger.”

“I’ll do it. I promise.”

“Good girl. Now.” He turns me over, ass in the air, and I laugh as he brings his palm down hard.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” I ask him, looking over my shoulder and grinning.

But my laughter quickly turns to moans as his fingers slip between my legs.

“I believe I owe you a spanking,” he says. “And I pay my debts, little killer.”

Chapter 14

Peter

Demetrios Leventis lives in a quiet part of Chania, away from the more touristy sections but still close enough to the docks to make his commute reasonable. His house is typical of the area: boxy, red roof tiles, white walls, two floors, lots of windows. It used to be a middle-class neighborhood, but globalism spiked the prices and now homes that were built eighty years ago sit next to luxury condos and million-dollar mansions. Adrienne looks around, soaking in the unfamiliar town. I love the way she looks at new things, like she can’t get enough of them.

“Let me do the talking,” I say as we approach. “He knows we’re coming. Because of what happened a few days ago, I’ll have to bribe him double, but it should be okay.”

Adrienne nods and looks around, her eyes shifting from car to shadows like she’s searching for enemies. Ever since the attack in the bathroom, she’s been on edge, except for two places: out in the yard during our training, and in bed during our fucking. Those are the two places she can relax and let me take charge.

Out here though, I can feel her anxiety. Her hand drifts toward the gun at her hip, but she catches herself and lets it drop again. I taught her well: don’t give away where she keeps the weapon if she doesn’t have to.

“Explain something to me,” she says as we approach the door. The house is quiet and the whole neighborhood feels abandoned. It’s strange—it’s early in the evening and families in this part of the city should be sitting outside, drinking and having dinner and chatting with neighbors. But this place is a wasteland. “Why are Greek men such misogynists?”

“I don’t know if it’s misogyny so much as Greek life is very patriarchal.”

“Spoken like a true man. That explains why Greece is such a mess at least.”

He laughs and elbows me. “Easy there.”

“Just stating a fact.”

“It’s all for show, really. You saw what Katarin is like. Balaska pretends he’s the leader of the family, but Katarin is the brains. She’s the one that came up with this operation and put me in touch with Reina. Did she tell you that?”

“No, she didn’t.” Adrienne looks thoughtful. “I can’t say I’m surprised she didn’t mention it.”

“I tried to warn you. Katarin’s trouble.” I knock on the door and squeeze Adrienne’s hand. “We’ll be fine. You good?”

“I’m good.”

We wait a moment until the door unlocks. It swings inward and Simion looks out me. I tilt my head, surprised to see him here, and he gestures for us to come in. “Demetrios is waiting,” he says, looking nervous.

It took a lot to secure this face-to-face meeting. I had to make a lot of promises and pay a lot of bribes and in the end, Demetrios nearly backed out. But this morning I got a call from the union boss himself inviting me to his personal home and he swore it would be a good place to talk business. I’m not a fan of doing something like this in the guy’s personal house—who knows if someone’s planted bugs on him or what—but I don’t have much choice.

“What’s the deal with this? I thought it was a casual meeting. I didn’t know he was bringing muscle.” I grin at Simion, trying a joke to lighten the mood, but Simion only flinches.

“Please. Inside.” He gestures with his head.

We step into the foyer. He closes the door and frowns at me, wringing his hands. The vibe is completely off and the tension rolling from him is palpable. I look around, trying to see what’s making him act like we’re at a funeral, but from what I can tell it’s just a regular Greek house. Crosses on the walls, pictures of family, an average place. Maybe a touch cleaner than most, but nothing weird.

“What’s wrong, Simion? Is Demetrios still pissed about what happened at the bar?”

“No, no, not that, forget about that. There’s no need to worry about that. It’s forgotten already.” He waves his hands dismissively and tries to smile, but he looks like he’s attempting to squeeze a soccer ball through a tiny pipe.


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