Stolen by the Mob Boss : A Russian Mafia Romance (Bratva Hitman) Nicole Fox (unputdownable books TXT) š
- Author: Nicole Fox
Book online Ā«Stolen by the Mob Boss : A Russian Mafia Romance (Bratva Hitman) Nicole Fox (unputdownable books TXT) šĀ». Author Nicole Fox
But thatās what Iām doing, and thereās no one around to document it. And surprisingly, no security, either. They often give me a wide berth when Iām in less occupied areas of town, but not being able to see them lurking behind me like muscular shadows is unusual, although Iām not complaining. I like feeling like a normal person. A person who hasnāt been on the cover of magazines and newspapers since she was a small girl, standing next to her smiling, suited father, an American flag pinned to his lapel. Without the hulks with headsets lingering around me, I could be anyone. Just a normal twenty-five-year-old girl.
Too bad thatās never going to happen.
But no matter how bad I wish I was normal, old habits die hard. I look over my shoulder for security and see a man walking behind me. Heās still a long way off, but even from a distance, I can tell heās handsome. Devastatingly so. Toned body visible even under a hoodie, wide shoulders, well-groomed stubble covering a strong jaw. Iām considering slowing my pace to let him catch up, seeing how long I can keep up this āregular girlā routine before my security steps in to intervene, when my phone goes off.
My eyes bulge as intense rap music with lyrics about pounding women and licking private parts blares out of my purse. I scramble to grab my phone.
āIvy.ā I sound like a frustrated mother scolding her child.
She only laughs. āYou like my new ringer? I set it last night. Family-friendly, donāt you think?ā
āYou are so lucky Iām alone,ā I say, managing to hold in my laugh. I donāt want to encourage this behavior. The last time she called I was with my grandma, and she didnāt find my heavy metal ringtone to be āsuitable for a woman of my ilk.ā
āOh good, youāre alone. Come over.ā
āOver where?ā
āThe club,ā she says, as though itās obvious. Ivy is always at the club. She spent her early and late teen years despising every second she had to spend there with the wealthy and privileged, but as a young single woman, I wouldnāt be surprised to hear she sleeps on the golf course. āLots of eligible men here today. Thereās a charity golf tournament going on. Do you realize how short golf shorts are? Muscular man thighs, everywhere you look. Yum.ā
āāMan thighs,āā I grimace, shaking my head. āNo, thank you. I prefer my men covered. Preferably in jeans and leather.ā
She sighs. āWhen are you going to let go of that particular preference, Bella? Nice boys donāt wear leather.ā
āWho says I want a nice boy?ā I ask. āAlso, you sound like my grandma.ā
āThen be a good girl and listen to your granny. Come to the club. The men are all out on the course, and I need someone to drink with me until they get back. Day drinking alone makes me look sad.ā
āAs much as I wish I could help you get day drunk, Iām busy right now,ā I say, stepping to the edge of the sidewalk and leaning against a concrete planter box. As a well-groomed female in a dress and heels, Iāll get enough weird looks inside the comic book store without also being on my phone and disrupting everyone inside.
āYou said you were alone,ā she argues.
āAnd busy,ā I add. āI have plans, but Iāll let you know if my schedule clears up.ā
I look back down the sidewalk and donāt see the handsome man from before. Surely he didnāt go into the Clip āN Trim. From what little I saw of him, there was no way he was only paying ten dollars for his haircuts. Either way, heās gone, and Iām more than a little disappointed.
Being a senatorās daughter means I have a very full social calendar and very few dating prospects. Every man who comes into my life has to be thoroughly vetted by my father, my grandmother, and our security. Their pasts are combed over to ensure they have no seedy connections, nothing lurking in their closets that could become a problem for my fatherās reelection. In high school, I couldnāt go to prom with Isaac Daines because he helped use grass killer to burn a giant penis in the schoolās front lawn. It was visible from every single classroom in the science wing, and even though I laughed until I cried, the school officials didnāt like it much. Neither did my father.
I have a bit more freedom as an adult, especially if I keep the relationships privateāordering dinner to eat at my apartment, late night hookups, drinks in shadowy corners, and leaving in separate cars. But as soon as things are out in the open, the press picks up the story and the fledgling relationship is subjected to intense speculation from both the public and my family, which is usually enough to kill whatever spark may have been there.
My father has always done his best to protect me and love me, so I try not to blame him. But itās hard when Ivy can serial-date every member of the club beneath the age of forty with no repercussions, while I canāt even get coffee with a cute guy from my coding class without a tabloid running a background check on him and speculating that my food baby from the burrito I had for lunch might in fact be a baby bump.
āYou know, I would drop everything to join you at the club,ā she says.
āI know you would, but thatās because youād probably already be at the club anyway,ā I retort.
She grumbles but doesnāt respond, which means
Comments (0)