Broken Saint : a mafia romance (Mafia Mayhem Series) by E.M. Gayle

Author:E.M. Gayle [Gayle, E.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gypsy Ink Books
Published: 2021-06-28T18:30:00+00:00

12

Ronin

Fuck. That had not gone at all like I'd expected.

While I had planned to force the reveal of our nuptials sooner rather than later, seeing Nova's lover at that party had set me off in a way that still left me pissed. Of course, I'd told the bastard she was mine. Anyone in my situation would have done the same. I technically had no right to be pissed about who she fucked yesterday, but as of today, she officially belonged to me.

To do anything less than make a public claim would have been foolish. Due to the nature of Nova's celebrity, word would get out, and from there it wouldn’t take long for Vegas mafia to learn that Ronin Kavanaugh had made a deal with Anthony Cullotta. Let the fucking fireworks begin.

The incident with the girl at the party... That had been a mistake. One I couldn't get out of my head. Fucking seventeen. I did not need the kind of attention that could cause. She was lucky I didn't choke her out right then for lying to me. I hated games women played, but I hated liars even more.

"Here's the file you asked for, boss." I looked up to see Oscar had entered and took the file folder he carried. "Perfect timing," I told my head of security/right hand man/jack of all trades. "Did you already go through it?"

He nodded. "Aye, I did. I wanted to make sure the information you were being given was fully vetted and as accurate as possible. I know we can't take any chances while we are here."

"You are right about that. So, anything good?"

"I'm not sure good is the word you're looking for in this case. She's gotten herself into a mess with that one. He's a fed."

"You can't be serious." I needed to see that kind of bombshell for myself. I opened the folder and began reading.

Motorcycle clubs, gun running, illegal gambling, drugs, fuck, you name it, this Rockford Reed was as far from FBI conventional as he could get. And it didn't stop there. He'd run the task force that had ended up with Seattle's most deadly mafia boss, Frank Mazzeo dead and his entire sex trade operation halted. Not a lot of details had been revealed about that, but this folder had more than he'd heard through the grapevine.

"This guy dirty?"

"Well, he ain't clean. But I don't think he works for anyone, if that's what you're asking. We hunted wide and far for any evidence of something more. Either he's better than our guys are at hiding shit, or he's definitely not on the take."

"Who's this guy?" I pulled a photo from the stack inside the folder. "I saw him at the party last night."

"Brother. Well, half-brother. Get this. Apparently, the MC co-presidents were sharing more than their club at that time. They both shared the same old lady, and each gave her a kid. This one goes by Houston. You want me to run down the details on him?"

"He FBI, too?"

"Nah.

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