Tempting Little Thief (Girls of Greyson #1) Read Online Meagan Brandy

Categories Genre: College, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Girls of Greyson Series by Meagan Brandy
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Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
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My eyes narrow before I can stop them and he raises a dark brow at me, daring me to voice my thoughts aloud when he knows I won’t. That’s why he does it, for the short little win it warms him with.

God, what would he’d do if he knew his daughter was fucked like a goddess by a “street rat,” as he would call him? The shock that would cover his face would taste so sweet.

No. Stop.

Family is everything. First.

I swallow. “Do you think Enzo will simply allow her to stay when he finds out? And while oddly delayed, he will find out.”

My father sits back, his face a sharp mask. “I think he will come to realize she is not what he expected.”

That is not an answer, and coming from him, it could mean so many things.

Does he mean in a good way or a bad one? That Boston is more than he thought or less than? Does he think he’ll honestly change his mind when he has a bride in his hands and our name beside his? I’m betting on no.

My father pushes to his feet, smoothing his black hair back, even though not a strand has fallen out of place. “The girls are being informed of this decision as we speak, so there is no discussion for the three of you to have. The Greyson Society and The Enterprise are yours, so of course, you three have the final say where that is concerned. I don’t expect you to allow her back into the folds.”

“I would certainly hope not.”

He moves to stand before me, and I straighten my spine like a good little soldier. “The anniversary of your mother’s death is three days from now.”

I wince despite myself. I hate his use of the word “anniversary,” as if unknowingly consuming poison is something to celebrate. She was murdered, not that he’ll admit to that, being no one could prove it.

“It is.” I nod once, the reminder an unnecessary one.

“Boston won’t be able to join us outside the walls, of course, but I expect you to be available.” He scowls, warning me not to question him. “Wear something red. It will bring out your eyes.”

“If you insist.”

This time, it’s my dad who scoffs, kissing my head as he says, “Sai will be ready at seven sharp. Do not make him wait.”

He walks out the door, once again stopping by simply so he can give my leash a little tug, a leash I’ve only recently come to realize I was wearing.

Be strong, be dominant, be the best, and don’t forget to smile. Those were the words I heard often and held close. They were an assignment I was to ace, and so I did. Do.

I was to earn the right to the north wing, the wing with my family’s name on it, and so I did.

Find my place within the manor and a way to leave my legacy.

Earn the respect of the others at Greyson Elite by being all the things a leader should.

My father had been thrilled about the waves I’d made, yet slowly, the nudge behind the knees, encouraging me forward, stopped, and now the one against my chest, pushing me back, has taken its place.

Why?

I’m no fool. I know being dickless in my world is a negative where most are concerned, but I’m no Southern belle, as many of my peers were raised to be, though sometimes I play the part of one at my father’s orders. For the outsiders.

For the sake of the school and its reputation.

For the world outside our own.

But I have proven my place is in one of leadership.

I can handle the head seat of the school, and once my father is older and grayer, I will do my duty, do as I must, transitioning into the chair in which he sits.

I’ve made a mark, and I’m still mid-studies.

My father said bloodshed is necessary, always, and I took his words and gently washed them down his throat, proving we could eliminate threats against him without bloodshed and avoid the headache, not to mention the cost of a “cleanup crew” that follows. Jacobi Randolph was the latest example of this and the scheme we pulled was child’s play. Too damn easy, as most are.

I, with the help of my girls, increased our bankroll tenfold, simultaneously growing my own, while smoothing over business relationships that were on a kill-or-be-killed level, creating new ones at the same time.

Me.

I did that.

You would think I would be allowed to deny my father when his “ask” could potentially affect the school I’m supposed to speak for, let alone make my own decision about who and where I eat dinner, but no. Boston is coming back to Greyson Elite, and in three days, I’ll be ready at seven sharp, wearing a red dress, accompanying him to a dinner I’d rather not attend. I’ll smile and walk with pride and power as my sister parades around my fucking zone as if she isn’t a cow at risk of being corralled at any moment.


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