Sweet Animosity – Ruthless Obsession Read Online Zoe Blake

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
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She wriggled in my grasp. “Yeah, well, I choose to take my chances.”

My hand wrapped around her neck as I pushed her head back. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not leaving the choice to you.”

My cellphone interrupted us.

Keeping my forearm over her head, trapping her, I released her neck and reached into my robe pocket. I answered the phone. “Yeah?”

“It’s Serg. ETA in five.”

“You have the package?”

“Gift wrapped with a bow.”

“Good.”

I disconnected the call as I released her. “In the spare bedroom, you’ll find a rack of clothes. Choose one of the dresses and put it on. We have guests coming.”

“And if I don’t do as you⁠—”

Before she could finish her threat, I cut in. “Defy me and you’ll greet our guests naked.”

With a cry of outrage, she ran out of the room.

I finished my mimosa in a gulp and followed her down the hall, branching off into the main bedroom. Crossing to my closet, I changed and emerged from my bedroom in time for Serg’s arrival.

Serg gestured to the terrified-looking man in black judicial robes. “Var, meet Judge Macalheny.”

I nodded, but didn’t say a word.

Serg placed a heavy hand on the judge’s shoulder, causing him to flinch. “The judge here owes us just over two hundred thousand dollars, thanks to an unlucky run at the tables three months ago.”

Not only was running a private gambling club an exceptional front for money laundering, but it also served up blackmail opportunities on a silver platter.

Adjusting my cuffs through the sleeves of my Armani tuxedo, I raised an eyebrow as I gave the quivering judge a onceover. “Does he now?”

Serg nodded. “Unfortunately, the honorable judge has neglected to make all the payments we so generously agreed to instead of shooting him in the head and then collecting the double-indemnity insurance money from his clueless wife.”

The judge turned to Serg and raised his intertwined hands. “Please, don’t tell my wife! She’ll kill me.”

Serg wagged his finger. “You’re not listening closely enough, judge-y boy. We’ll also kill you, except way more painfully and piece by piece.”

I shook my head slowly. “Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s bad form not to honor your debt to the ruthless, cold-blooded Russian Mafia?”

Serg frowned. “I know. I feel like that should be taught in schools here in America like it is in Russia. It’s a far better life lesson than algebra.”

“Agreed.” I placed an arm around the judge’s shoulders and led him into the living room. “So, judge. Let me explain what you’re about to do for me, and more important, why you’ll be taking your life in your hands if you say no.”

CHAPTER 39

VIVIAN

It was a wedding dress.

A freaking wedding dress.

No, not one.

Several.

I pushed the hangers along the brass porter rack.

There was something especially twisted about forcing me to choose my own wedding gown. As if I were choosing to get married.

As if I were choosing Var as my husband.

How had agreeing to paint a few lousy, knock-off Mona Lisas fucked up my life so quickly and so spectacularly badly?

Married was forever.

A life sentence.

Even if I’d been caught by the Feds for the forgery, the most I would have gotten was maybe five years.

My gaze traveled to the landline by the bed.

Was it too late to call the police? The FBI? The national guard?

I sighed, already knowing the answer was yes. I’d seen enough of Var’s far-reaching influence not to trust any of those organizations.

I wandered into the attached bathroom. My makeup and hair dryer and hot rollers had been moved in there. It was almost creepy how quietly efficient the Four Monks’ staff were.

With a resigned sigh, I sat on the plush vanity stool before the mirror and pulled the towel off my head. My scalp burned as I yanked the brush through the wet tangles a little too vigorously. I dried my hair as I stared at my reflection, lost in thought.

By the time my hair was dry, I still didn’t have a plan on how to get out of this mess.

Selecting a section of hair, I rolled a heated roller and pinned it in place. As if on autopilot, I methodically put all the rollers into my hair.

Still no plan.

Opening the large professional makeup case, I spread the trays wide and selected a cream stick foundation and my concealer. As I applied my makeup, I continued to run through the different scenarios in my head.

After selecting my favorite Lancôme pencil liner, I leaned forward and carefully ran it along my eye’s waterline. I then selected a matching Lancôme black eyeliner and traced my eye, making the usual thin line wider with more drama.

Brushing some translucent powder under my eyes to help get rid of any traces of eyeshadow, I added a bit more bronzer to under my cheekbones. Then a brighter pink blush with some iridescent flakes to the top of my cheeks to counteract the slightly pale and sallow look my skin had taken after my health scare.


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