A Thousand Cuts – Underworld Kings Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 125962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
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And the way his eyes darkened and his voice went huskier when he spoke about that made me forget my own name. Almost forget about everything else.

Almost.

“I want all of those things,” I whispered, my voice small, averting my eyes. I wasn’t used to expressing my desire aloud, I wasn’t sure if I could be sexy like that.

Cristian’s hand went back to my chin, moving it ever so slightly to communicate he wanted my eyes. He didn’t like it when I avoided eye contact, didn’t like me feeling awkward, shy or self-conscious around him.

“I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into with me.” I swallowed, blinking rapidly. “My family,” I added.

His face hardened with realization. “Baby, I know who your family is. What your father is.”

I nodded. “You may know what it is on the outside, but if you’re going to be married to me, I know my father will have...expectations.” I paused again. “They’ve tried to keep me out of it, my family. They think I’m too delicate to deal with the reality of what my family does, who they really are.” I thought about all of the times my father stopped speaking when I walked into the room, how men readjusted their jackets when I happened to see the guns underneath them. “Maybe I am,” I admitted. “But I’m not stupid. I know how things work. He’s going to expect you in the family business. And I know you have other dreams, like—”

“My only dream is you.” Cristian cut me off.

I bit my lip. Cristian had not had an easy life. He only went to our prestigious prep school because he got a scholarship. His dad left him and his mom before he was born. His mom died before he was five. There were no grandparents to be found, or maybe they didn’t want to be found. His aunt only took him because of a life insurance policy his mother had that was paid on the proviso she was his guardian until he was eighteen. I’d met her a couple of times, and she’d barely taken her eyes off the TV to greet me. She was always surrounded by a haze of cigarette smoke, her wiry, red hair always askew. Her lips were always pinched into a scowl and fastened around a smoke. She was not a nice woman.

I couldn’t imagine how isolating it was for Cristian to grow up without real family around. My entire life was centered around family. Not just my parents and brother, but uncles, cousins, my beloved Nonnina and Nonno. Cristian had fought for his grades, for the transcript that would get him into any Ivy League school. By choosing me, he was choosing my family. The Catalanos did not go to college. There was no need.

Cristian wanted to be strong, take care of me, shield me from things, from the true realities of his life. Which worried me. He loved me so very much. How much would he give up for me?

“I may not know everything about what my family does, but I do know you’ll get blood on your hands.” My own small one covered his large, tanned one. “I don’t want that for you. I don’t want to corrupt you because of who my family is.”

Cristian’s eyes narrowed. I was flat on my back when Cristian suddenly moved down so he was poised in between my legs, his large hands gripping my thighs.

I gasped at the rapid change, at how utterly exposed I was to him, at my hunger for him, at the way his eyes were glued on me like he was about to eat me alive and worship at my altar at the same time.

“Don’t you know this by now, my bride?” he murmured, his breath hot ... there. “It is my job to corrupt you.” He laid a kiss on my inner thigh. “I’m well aware of what I’m getting into with you. Your family. I will wear blood on my hands proudly for as long as you wear that ring on your finger.”

My body quivered underneath him. I fingered the diamond he’d given me. That fit just right. That was nowhere near as large as the one my mother wore but was much too big for what I knew his budget could afford.

I idly wondered whether my father had helped him with such a thing. Cristian was traditional. Respectful. He was knowledgeable enough about my father to understand that there was no way we’d marry if he didn’t first ask for his blessing.

Though it seemed insane for the father of a teenage girl to help a teenage boy procure a diamond, it suited my father.

“I will wear this ring forever,” I promised. “Until my last breath.”

Cristian’s brow furrowed ever so slightly. “That is many, many years away, baby. But you will wear that ring forever. For now, I’m interested in corrupting you some more.”


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