The Woman in the Warehouse (Costa Family #9) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Costa Family Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
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It was almost overwhelming to imagine how those feelings would compound with more time together, how huge a part of me he would become.

“I’m thinking of retiring early,” I admitted as we sat in silence listening to the city wake up below and around us.

“Yeah? I gotta admit, I like that idea. What would you do with the warehouse?”

“I don’t know. I could sell it. Or I could turn it into some sort of business.”

“I could go in with you,” he said.

“You’re just looking for a way to wash dirty mafia money, aren’t you?” I teased.

“Partly,” he agreed.

“And the other part?”

“An investment in our future,” he said, making my heart swell in my chest.

“I would be a nightmare working with,” I told him.

“I… don’t doubt that for a minute,” he said. “But I wouldn’t really need to be an actual part of it. I have my own career to advance. That could be your project.”

“Are you going to be in trouble?” I asked.

“What? With Lorenzo?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“No. Or, at least, I don’t think so. He might want to know why the Morellis and Miko were involved when I hadn’t informed him or my brother about what was going on.”

“In your defense, the Morellis were just supposed to be a bridge between us and Matej. It’s not your fault shit was more fucked up than we realized. And then, well, things were moving too fast to call and give anyone a debriefing. I mean, isn’t this what your boss would want from you? To show you can take initiative, navigate difficult situations, find allies to assist you, all to get a desired ending?”

“Dunno if you kidnapped and tortured and me shot was the desired end.”

“I mean, shit happens, though, right? Am I the first woman who was kidnapped in the Family?”

To that, I got a pretty epic snort. “No,” he admitted.

“And all the bad guys are dead. So, I mean, it was successful.”

“I mean, the job was kind of just to watch the fuckers, not kill them.”

“Luckily, I killed them. Well, most of them,” I said.

“About that,” he said, tone going all serious.

“What about it?” I asked, feeling myself stiffen, worried he was going to be mad about it or something.

“How are you about it? Know it’s not easy to take a life. Let alone multiple ones.”

“It was, actually,” I admitted. “Easy,” I clarified. “I know it maybe shouldn’t have been. But, at that moment, it was me or them. And I’m always going to choose me in that sort of scenario. Besides, two of them were talking about raping me. So they definitely had it coming. The one who was shot in the dick first, though, that was Jan. I mean, I did the dick-shooting. By accident, kind of. Jan was annoyed by his screaming and shot him.”

“He was one vicious fuck,” Anthony said.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “All said and done, I got off pretty easy.” Even if my throat was really starting to get sore thanks to all this talking after being choked multiple times.

“Wouldn’t call what he did to you easy.”

“Nothing permanent,” I said, trying to play down the dark mood that had fallen between us.

“Think I owe you a truckload of gummy fish to thank you for saving my life,” he said, voice getting thick with his own exhaustion.

“At least,” I agreed.

I was actually starving. But it felt too good to be so close to him, to feel his warmth, to hear his reassuring heartbeat against my ear, to feel his strong arm around me. I didn’t want to move. Not even if my stomach was letting out increasingly loud objections to its emptiness.

I expected Anthony to comment on it, to insist I get myself something to eat. When he didn’t, I angled my head up, finding his chin tucked to his chest, his eyes closed.

Panic welled up before I remembered I could hear his heartbeat, could feel the rise and fall of his chest.

He was fine.

Just bone-deep tired.

And as much as my stomach had other things in mind, I was just as beat. My eyelids felt impossible to keep open once I knew Anthony was comfortably—or as comfortably as he could be given the gunshot wound and his position—resting.

Before I even knew it, I was drifting off as well.

___

It felt like no time at all had passed when the buzzing noise of the intercom drew me slowly toward consciousness. With a loud grumble. Both for the interruption, and for the screaming crick in my neck from sleeping upright.

“I second that,” Anthony said, making me sit up straight, looking at him, checking for sweating or paleness.

Reaching up, I pressed a hand to his forehead, finding it reassuringly cool.

“I’m okay,” he said, giving my hip a squeeze. “Just hurts. Shoulder, neck, arm,” he added as I moved away, seeing him try to move the arm that had been around me, but it flopped like a dead fish onto the cushion.


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