Gorgeous Monster by Charity Ferrell

Gorgeous Monster by Charity Ferrell

Author:Charity Ferrell [Ferrell, Charity]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Charity Ferrell LLC


Chapter 18

Cristian

A man like me doesn’t have weaknesses.

But today, I showed one—Natalia.

I should’ve handed her over to the Lombardis.

Had I done that, I’d have a clearer head.

She was disposable, nothing to me, but then I had to go and touch her.

I wouldn’t be thinking about how she tasted or how good it felt when her plump lips were wrapped around my cock.

I walk downstairs, licking the sweet taste of Natalia on my lips, and find Benny and Rocky waiting for me. Benny is pacing the foyer like he’s a man who impregnated his mistress, his shoes creating an ear-grating squeak that echoes through the house.

Rocky is perched against the wall, his back stiff and his hands shoved in his pockets.

Benny stops when he sees me. “What the fuck happened?”

“We were shot at.” I stretch my tense neck from side to side. “Not the first time it’s happened, and unless our enemies fall off the face of the earth, which would make life tragically boring, it won’t be the last.”

I won’t die of old age or cancer.

None of us do.

It’ll be murder.

My grandfather was the victim of a blown-up car.

My father, a gunshot, execution-style.

I snap my fingers and gesture to my office. They follow me inside. Benny shuts the door and clicks the lock. No one mutters a word as I walk to the bar cart and pour myself a glass of Pappy Van Winkle. I drain it in one swig, which unfortunately washes down the taste of Natalia, and refill the glass. The liquor tastes nowhere as delicious as Natalia’s pussy.

Fuck.

My daughter’s best friend has consumed me.

She’s fucking tormenting me.

Her information has been close to useless.

She’s getting my men—getting me—shot at.

She isn’t worth the trouble, but giving her up is becoming harder.

I need to change that.

Benny returns to his goddamn pacing as I take a seat behind my desk. Rocky returns to the same stance he had in the foyer.

I sink into the leather chair, lift my glass, and say, “Benny, sit the fuck down before I throw this glass at your fucking head.”

Benny freezes and takes a seat.

“You think it was the Lombardis?” he asks, rubbing his forehead.

Rocky snorts. “Of fucking course it was the Lombardis.”

I wish Vinny’s dumbass had chosen a subtler retaliation. Public shoot-outs are bad for press. There might be word on the street of our illicit businesses, of our crimes, but we provide no evidence to back up their claims. We’re careful, logical, and we keep our corruption in the shadows. We sure as fuck don’t shoot people in public in the middle of the goddamn day.

Fucking amateurs.

Vincent should have Vinny by the balls just for that. Benny frustrates me sometimes, but at least he has some goddamn brains. Like me, my children learned the rules of this life at an early age. There will be no fucking up the Marchetti legacy.

I scrub a hand over my jaw. “How’s Lorenzo?”

Lorenzo was hit in the shoulder during the shoot-out. He laughed it off and said Helena would be sending me his dry-cleaning bill.



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