The Devil’s Den (De Kysa Mafia #1) Read Online Penny Dee

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: De Kysa Mafia Series by Penny Dee
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Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
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“Which was a big mistake on my part.”

I take her hand in mine.

And then surprising us both, I lower my knee to the ground.

46

Bella

Hell has officially frozen over.

Domenico De Kysa, the Heartless King from the North, is on his knees.

Something I never thought I’d ever see in this lifetime.

But before I can revel in it, he takes my hand and pulls me down until we’re eye level. "Let me show you how good our life will be."

“How do you plan to do that?"

"Starting with this.” He wraps his hand around the nape of my neck and crashes his lips to mine.

I’ve been aching for his kiss for weeks. And because I’m already high from the insanity unfolding around me, I give in to the deliciousness of his lips and the delightful sensation of his tongue stroking into my mouth.

I don’t want to be a slave to this man’s kisses. I don’t want to crave his touch. But I do. Because I’m in love with him.

Just as Imogen said, I have to make the choice.

Live with the fear so I can love him.

Or live without the fear but lose him.

As he takes the kiss deeper, whatever resistance I feel gives way, and I know exactly which one I’ll choose.

I choose him.

I will always choose him.

With a moan, he breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to mine. Tenderly, his thumbs brush my jaw. “I’m in love with you, Bella. I need you to trust me when I say I will move heaven and Earth to protect you from my rivals. You don’t need to run away from me. I will keep you safe.”

I nod, and his lips cover mine again, and I get lost in the passion between us as he takes it deeper.

After weeks of heartache, my heart feels giddy with happiness.

And after months of confusion, I finally have clarity.

I’m in love with this monstrous Mafia king.

Without breaking the kiss, he pulls us both to our feet, his commanding lips moving with fierce control and expertise over mine, speaking the truth that he loves me.

“Come with me,” he says, breaking it off. “I have something to show you.”

My brow lifts. “If you say your cock, then I will probably shoot you with your own gun.”

His smile is devastatingly handsome. “I like how you think, baby. But I have a surprise for you first.”

“A surprise?” I ask as he pulls out a blindfold from his jacket pocket. “Wait, are you kidnapping me again?”

“That might be our thing,” he says, turning me around so he can tie the blindfold over my eyes.

“Perhaps we should try for a song or a movie or cute nicknames instead of a felony crime as our thing. It works for other couples.”

His breath brushes the outer shell of my ear as he leans in. “We’re nothing like other couples.”

“How true,” I reply as he gently guides me down the plane aisle. “But nicknames could be fun.”

“I agree. You can start calling me master from now on.”

“Hmm, I think Satan is more fitting.”

“Feel free to call me Gigantor, then.”

“Or not,” I reply.

I don’t see him, but I feel us pass Drew Mott at the cabin door.

“Sorry, Drew,” I say.

Although, I am kind of questioning why he didn’t try to save me from Nico.

But then again, Nico is kind of unstoppable when he wants something.

And he wants me.

My heart sings.

Because I want him just as badly.

Nico guides me off the plane, and as we walk away, I hear him call out to Drew, “You can have your plane back now.”

He doesn’t take my blindfold off until the car pulls up to the curb. He reaches over and unties it, and I’m surprised to see that during the car ride into the city, the sky has turned a deep shade of blue, and New York is lit up in all its starlight.

I’m further surprised to see we’re sitting out the front of the Landau Gallery, a privately owned and very prestigious gallery in Manhattan.

“What are you up to?” I ask suspiciously as he leads me out of the car and up the stairs to the front of the gallery. “This place is closed after seven o’clock.”

“Not for us,” he says with a smile. “I know—”

“The owner?” I grin. “Of course, you do.”

A security guard meets us at the door. “Mr. De Kysa.” He gives him a nod as he lets us into the gallery. “Please come in.”

Immediately, my heart begins to sing. I’ve spent hours in this gallery getting lost in the vibrant color, creativity, and feelings conjured by each piece of art. It was always a dream of mine to be good enough to show something here. But surrounded by such talent, I accepted the likelihood was slim.

Our shoes click on the polished concrete floors as we walk from room to room and a new respect for Nico fills me as I watch him admire the dedication and talents of the different artists represented on the walls. He knows nothing about art. But that’s the beauty of it. You don’t need to understand the language for it to speak to you.


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