Model for the Mob – Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Insta-Love, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
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I hurry toward the curtain, my mind spinning too fast for me to catch my thoughts, confused and grateful and terrified all at once.

Chapter Three

Luca

Franco glares at me, his face burning red and his jowls quivering. He looks around at his men – at the room in general – as though expecting time to reverse and reveal that he just hallucinated what happened.

But he didn’t.

I snapped.

For her. For my woman.

Whoever she is, she’s the woman I’ve been waiting my whole damn life for.

She belongs to me. She’s mine. She’s going to give me a family.

And this bastard mocked her.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Franco growls after a long pause.

“Not here,” I snap. “Remember the cops.”

“Not here? I should put a bullet in your head.”

I take a small step forward, tilting my head at him, staring hard so he can see the fearlessness in my eyes. Men like Franco operate on terror. Without it, they flounder, no idea how to force those around them into submission.

“Put a bullet in my head, Franco,” I snarl. “Go ahead. See how that goes for you.”

All around us our capos are bristling, their fingers itching for their weapons. In the crowd below men’s voices are raised, arguments breaking out, but nobody will make a move without Franco or me giving the order first.

“This isn’t over,” he says, unable to keep the whimper out of his voice as he ducks his head and shuffles past me.

His men follow after him and I turn to find Aldo glaring at me.

He doesn’t understand what just happened. He can’t understand.

How the fuck can I explain it to him?

The second I laid eyes on her – looking through that stupid makeup – I knew she was mine, and mine alone.

A primal war song rose up inside of me, roaring at me to claim her right there. I was going to wait until after this fucked-up show was done and then send for her.

But that motherfucker forced my hand.

Nobody mocks my woman. I don’t give a shit who he is.

“Everybody out,” I roar over the function hall.

Immediately they follow my command, snapping into action, dozens of footsteps rushing for the doors.

Voices rise into the air, murmurings of war and revenge and respect, and even if I know I’ve made a tactical error, I can’t bring myself to regret it.

What was I supposed to do, just sit there and let him bully her?

I had to defend her. He had to apologize.

“Boss,” Aldo murmurs, once it’s just me and my men standing on the balcony. “I don’t understand. Do you know the girl?”

I turn to one of my capos.

“Bring her to my estate. And bring the right fucking girl. The one who walked too quickly. The one Franco insulted. And be respectful to her. Understand?”

“Yes sir,” my man says, striding down the hallway with two men at his side for backup.

That’s right. We’re at war now. Somebody might try and jump them.

My cousin strides closer to me, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Luca,” he says quietly. “Please, you need to explain.”

I grit my teeth, tension working its way through my body. Every instinct I have roars at me to claim my woman right now, to tear off those ridiculous clothes they put her in and explore her curvy body.

Even with that jester’s outfit, she looked beautiful, with her dark chocolate-colored hair falling in waves to her shoulders, wide naive eyes, voluptuous body, and curves in all the right places, gorgeously thick, the sort of body a man needs to bury his hands in.

“Luca,” Aldo snaps, with a rare flash of anger.

I nod toward the exit. “Come on. We’ve got business to take care of. Defenses to sort. Problems to solve.”

He swallows down another round of questions, then gives a curt nod.

“Yeah. I guess shit’s really going to hit the fan now.”

I can tell he wants to ask me why, why, fucking why, but he knows better than to press the issue. And we’ve got a busy night ahead of us.

I can’t bring myself to regret what I did as I stride out of the building and across the parking lot. I climb into the passenger side of the sedan and one of my capos slips into the driver’s seat.

“Not yet,” I tell him. “I need to make sure she’s safe first.”

I stare at the building, eyes scanning the women who filter out amongst the men, my heartbeat thundering through me when I think about Franco storming backstage and taking out his petty rage on my woman.

But then I see her, standing between my men. One of them has given her his jacket and she glances around as she walks, as though skittish and scared.

I bite down and clench my hand into a fist, my balls surging and roaring at me. My seed tells me to claim her body right now, to bend her over and pull that skirt up and fuck her like a savage right here in the parking lot, like an animal, pump into her until my seed explodes inside and her womb has no choice but to give me a family.


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