Coerced Kiss (New York Underworld #1) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: New York Underworld Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
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“How come you know so much about pregnancy?”

A shutter drops in front of his eyes. He lets me go and walks to a cupboard that he opens to show me the contents. “I got ginger tea and biscuits. Nicole told me they help for nausea. I stocked the fridge with fresh food. If you crave anything, I have a delivery service that can drop off an order within an hour. The number is on the fridge.”

“I have to give Livy notice.”

“Why don’t we invite her for dinner? You can tell her the happy news tonight.”

“No.” At the dark look that comes over his features, I quickly think up an excuse. “I better have an early night. I’ll go over there in the afternoon to tell her.”

His eyes soften. “Are you tired?”

“A little.” It’s not a lie. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

He nods. “Fine, but if we want to make this look normal, we’re going to have to entertain our friends at some point.”

“Our friends?” I ask, feeling sick at the thought of him befriending Livy.

“Yours and mine,” he says with a tight smile as he removes his jacket and folds it over the back of a chair.

I only nod, stalling for now.

He takes a set of keys from his pocket and puts them in front of me. “These are for the front and the back doors. They’re yours. Whenever you’re ready to go to Livy’s place, just call Kevin or tell one of the men outside to summon him.”

He shows me the alarm panel on the wall by the back door and how to activate as well as deactivate the alarm with a code.

Just as he’s done, a man wearing an ear mike enters with a paper bag in his hand that he puts on the counter. “Your order, sir.”

“Thank you,” Saverio says.

The man nods at me before leaving.

Saverio opens the bag and removes two bottles. “Your vitamins.” He shakes a capsule from each and gives them to me with a glass of water.

“Thanks,” I mumble as I pop them in my mouth, my pride still bruised about my inadequate funds.

We’re quiet while he prepares a lunch of grilled chicken breasts, sautéed baby potatoes, and a Greek salad. When the food is ready, he sets the dishes on cork plates on the counter and puts a plate and eating utensils in front of me. The chicken is sprinkled with rosemary and thyme, and the potatoes are drizzled with olive oil and perfectly browned in garlic and parsley. He’s obviously had practice in the kitchen.

Unable to squash my curiosity, I ask, “Have you always cooked?”

He stills for a moment before getting a plate for himself and sitting down opposite me.

“My mother was sick when I was young,” he starts as he dishes up for us. “My father always worked overtime.” He shrugs. “I guess I learned early.”

“I’m sorry,” I offer, sensing his profound sadness despite his nonchalant demeanor. “I hope your mother is okay now.”

“She passed away a few years ago.” He continues in an emotionless tone as he digs into his food, “I don’t have contact with my father.”

“Oh.” I hook my hair behind my ear. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s no secret,” he says, catching my gaze. “When my father found out I’d gotten involved with the business, he kicked me out. Luigi took me in and treated me like one of his own.”

I swallow down the bite of chicken I’ve taken, my appetite gone. “That’s why you work for him. You feel that you owe him.”

His smile is cool. “If I work for Luigi, it’s because I want to. I would’ve been fine on my own. I didn’t need him to get me into the business, but having his backing doesn’t hurt.”

“What about your father?”

He puts down his fork. “What about him?”

“Don’t you want to mend things between the two of you?”

Pushing back his empty plate, he says, “As long as I am who I am, I’m dead to him, and I’m not going to change.”

My chest tightens with unexpected sympathy. He may appear blasé about the fact that his father disowned him, but the tight set of his mouth says he’s not unaffected. Coming from where I do, I know how much it hurts to feel unwanted and unloved.

It’s obviously a difficult subject for him, and I understand why. What I don’t understand is why he’s sharing these intimate details of his life with me.

Watching him carefully, I ask, “Why are you telling me this?” Isn’t he afraid of making himself vulnerable? For all he knows, I’ll use the information against him.

“If we’re together, there are things you’ll know about me, things I would’ve shared with the woman in my life.” He gets to his feet. “Stay.”

I’m still reeling from the brusque command when he gets up and leaves. A moment later, he returns with a laptop that he puts in front of me. It looks brand-new.


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