King of Fire: Mafia Romance: Kings of Commission Series #1 by A.J. Wyatt

King of Fire: Mafia Romance: Kings of Commission Series #1 by A.J. Wyatt

Author:A.J. Wyatt [Wyatt, A.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-06-30T16:00:00+00:00


I’ve heard of the leader of the Brotherhood before.

He runs one of the biggest street gangs in Boston, and a lot of the men beneath him are on the most wanted list. Which is not a good thing for me, because my association with him might just come back to bite me in the ass. But if I plan on taking Boston, I’m going to have to work with the people already owning the streets. And if that means that I have to meet with James Wilder, then that’s what I’ll do.

They are mostly known for their drug distribution throughout the streets, but a few times I’ve heard their name being associated with weapons too. That just means they can play with Cosa Nostra. They’ve got something to offer us, and we’ve got more than enough to offer them.

The door to the VIP area of Club Arielle opens and Tanya steps through, her blonde hair swaying around her hips and the tight leather dress clinging to her exposed thighs leaving little to the imagination.

Her eyes catch mine, a suggestive gleam playing in them before she opens the door a little wider.

“Your guest is here,” she says, allowing James Wilder to step through behind her. His eyes are pinned to her ass for a few seconds, a smirk playing on his face before he meets my gaze.

“Quite a place you’ve got here,” he says in a manner of greeting. The tight black shirt he’s wearing is exposing the tattoos covering his arms and his chest, his blonde hair shaved except for the top of his head, where it’s styled to one side. He looks like someone plucked him straight off a motorcycle and hauled him into my club.

Tanya catches his eye and licks her lips in obvious interest before heading out again, leaving me alone in the room with the leader of the Brotherhood.

“Take a seat.”

I gesture towards one of the booths, and he sits down, leaning back and making himself comfortable. A tingle runs down my spine in recognition of the man sitting in front of me. The clothes he’s wearing makes him look like someone who spends way too much time on a stage, but the darkness in his eyes betrays the cunning, ruthless man hiding beneath. He didn’t get to lead the most notorious street gang by slashing away on a guitar.

“You wanted to meet with me,” I lean forward, pushing the bottle of bourbon and a glass in his direction and he leans forward to help himself to a drink. I sit back watching him pour the amber liquid into his glass, but he doesn’t take a sip of it, clearly a little apprehensive about meeting me in my territory, on my terms. But he’s here nonetheless. Which means he desperately wants something.

“I heard you’re moving in,” he taps his fingers on the table, the rings on his fingers glinting in the light. “And I thought we had to meet face to face. Before someone accidentally steps on somebody else’s toes.



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