Coerced Queen (New York Underworld #3) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: New York Underworld Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
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We keep up the façade until I turn into the traffic. Neither of us speak. Outside of Benson’s territory, I pull into the first parking space.

Livy jumps from the car and leans on the side. Bent over with her hands pressed on her thighs, she drags in air like a drowning person.

I do the same, getting out and propping my weight against the cool metal of the hood.

The guards pull up behind us, both of them jumping out of the SUV and making their way over with quick strides.

“Everything all right here?” the man who reaches us first asks, his hand already on the gun that’s hidden beneath his jacket.

“We’re fine,” I say, my voice unsteady. “Livy is a bit queasy.”

“It’s the sauna,” Livy says, wiping sweat from her brow. “It always makes me feel faint.”

“Do you need anything?” the man asks. “Water?”

“We’re fine, thanks,” Livy says. “I just needed some air.”

The men turn back for their car.

When they’re out of earshot, Livy looks over her shoulder at me. “Promise me we’re never doing that again.”

I’m shaking so badly I don’t think I can drive. Taking a few deep breaths, I calm my riotous nerves.

“Come on, ladybug,” Livy says with a mischievous wink. “Let’s get out of here. We shouldn’t gallivant around the city with a few million in cash in the trunk.”

Chapter

Twenty-Five

Saverio

* * *

“Hey, grumpy.”

A can of beer smacks me on the chest.

I grunt, catching it before it hits the floor.

Nicole stands in the door, holding another can in her hand.

“The fuck, Cole?” I grumble. “Are you trying to break my ribs?”

She steps gingerly over the threshold in her high heels. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. You’re not that easy to break.”

Rubbing the aching spot on my breastbone, I ask, “What are you doing here?”

She plops down on a chair and crosses her ankles on my desk before cracking open the beer she scavenged from my fridge. “You asked me to come over, remember?”

“I asked you to call me,” I rectify in a dry tone.

Slurping the foam that boils over the rim, she watches me with a shrewd gaze. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“Always.” I set the beer aside. “But not when I’m busy.”

I get up and lean my weight on my cane to limp over to the wet bar. After this morning’s workout, I need a stronger drink.

“You’re always busy, and so am I,” Nicole says. “So you better not waste my time.”

I pour a brandy. “I told you to pick up the phone, not to drive out here.”

When I struggle back to my desk with the glass in my hand, Nicole juts her chin toward the cane. “It’s way too early for that. You should be in a wheelchair or at the very least on crutches.”

My laugh is wry. “You sound like my physio.”

“Maybe you should listen to him.”

I sit back and sip my drink, enjoying the vanilla and burnt caramel flavors on my tongue. “I need your help.”

“You and Anya both,” she says, tipping back the can and taking a long swallow.

“Anya?” My attention sharpens. “What does my wife want?”

“She wants me to promise I’ll pump you full of anesthetic and stitch you up every time you’re unlucky enough to get nicked in a fight.”

That makes me laugh, not just a flat laugh that I have to force from my chest but a genuine guffaw that somehow makes me feel lighter.

Nicole points at me, can in the hand. “You don’t laugh like that. That’s not the Saverio De Luca I know.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know what you’re getting at. Anya makes me happy.”

That shrewd gaze intensifies as she takes another sip. “Does she?”

Not wanting to discuss our relationship with my doctor friend, I say, “Anya’s birthday is coming up.”

Nicole raises a brow. “That, right there, mister, scores you ten points. I’m glad you’re telling me. I don’t want to be the dumb bitch who didn’t get her a gift.”

“I need your help to organize a party.”

At party, her eyes grow large. “Ooh.” She swings her feet to the floor and sits ramrod straight in her chair. “What kind of party?”

“Something fancy with all the bells and whistles.” I hesitate. “I don’t think Anya’s ever had a birthday party.”

“So you want to make it special for her,” she says, making a puppy face. “What did you have a mind?”

“It’ll have to be here. It’s easier to control the security. After what happened, I’m not taking risks.”

“Mm.” She wipes foam from her mouth. “Makes sense. Go on.”

“I want to keep it a surprise, but we may need to put up a gazebo in the backyard. I can take Anya and Claire out for a day in the mountains while the preparations take place. That’s why I need you.”

“A gazebo, huh? How many people are you inviting?”

“The usual. You lot and the After Dark crowd.”


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