Kisses Like Rain (Corsican Crime Lord #4) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Corsican Crime Lord Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 118965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
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“Yes.” I swallow at the memory. “A recording said the number didn’t exist.”

“I tried to call you when I found the kids, but the phone just rang. When I checked the cameras, you were in the shower.”

“How did they manage that?”

“My uncles or cousins must’ve given them the phone numbers. I suspect someone—maybe my cousin or uncle—slipped in while you were out for a walk to override the camera feed. I checked the video recordings from before, but they’re all wiped out.”

“Why would your uncles betray you? I know they had an issue with me, but why help your enemy and risk the children’s lives?”

“My uncles wanted to take over the business. They didn’t like the way I handled things. They hated that I took your side over theirs. In their eyes, you were the enemy, the daughter of the man who killed their brother.” His smile is wry. “When they insisted I get rid of you, I reinforced my authority by making them kneel and swore their obedience to me. I guess they had a hard time swallowing that humiliation down.

“They sold me out when they made a deal with Marziale. The goal was weakening me by hitting me where I’d feel it the hardest—you. Then they’d gather their forces and kill me and my men. According to Enzo, kidnapping the children wasn’t part of the plan.” He pauses. “There’s something else you need to know. After Daisy came to see me, she went to my uncles, and they teamed up with Marziale.”

My mouth drops open. “You must be joking.”

“I wish that was the case. I warned her. I went as far as paying Laura Remington a visit in the hope that she’d talk sense into her daughter, but she put too much faith in Daisy’s ability to play the mobster. All Daisy got for her scheming was getting her and her mother’s throats slit.”

I blink, trying to process the news. She was my half-sister, but instead of grief I only feel pity. Perhaps Daisy was more like my dad than any of his other children. Maybe she didn’t lie when she said he loved her the best, but instead of swamping me with jealousy like before, acceptance leaves me at peace. I’ll never know what happened in Dad’s heart, but it’s not important. The only thing that matters is that he loved me. He never failed to show me he cared. He always told me how much I meant to him. Those were the last words we said to each other.

Love you, darling.

I love you too, Dad.

That those were our final words consoles me more than anything.

“I know it’s a lot to process,” Angelo says, pulling my attention back to him.

I shake my head. “I feel sorry for her, but I don’t feel sad. I just find it hard to believe that she was that brazen.”

Taking in his face, I notice the strain in the hard lines of his features and the toll of sleepless nights in the shadows under his eyes, yet his gaze is vigilant and the set of his shoulders square. Despite everything that happened, he’s strong and watchful, the pillar all of us are leaning on. After what went down, he’ll do whatever is necessary to keep us safe. And that means his uncles’ fate is sealed.

I know the answer even before I ask, “Your uncles?”

His tone is flat. “My uncles and cousins are dead.”

The statement nevertheless shocks me, but nothing surprises me anymore. “I’m sorry.”

His voice is harsh. “Don’t be. They got what they deserved for selling us out. That’s how Marziale knew where to find you.”

“That’s his name?” I ask, loathing pushing up in my throat. “The man with the tattoo on his hand?”

He clenches his jaw. “Yes, and it’ll be the last time we speak it in this house.”

I’m grateful for that.

“Nico paid an informant to tell me you made a deal with Lavigne. The minute I learned the truth after Lavigne visited you, I confronted the informant. That’s how I learned about my uncles’ betrayal. Enzo confessed the whole thing.”

“Is that where you went when you left with the yacht?”

“To Marseille, yes, to deal with the informant.”

“This can’t happen again. The kids should never have to go through something so traumatic.”

“It won’t.” He takes my hand. “I’ll make damn sure of it. Nothing will ever happen to you or the kids again, and nothing will come between us. I swear that on my parents’ graves.”

“I know. I trust you.” I bite my lip.

He hooks my hair behind my ear. “But?”

“But I need you to trust me too.”

“I know my mistakes. I won’t repeat them. You chose us, and I’ll always choose you.”

As the reassurance of his words settles inside me, I allow myself to lower my guard for the first time in years. I haven’t let go for so long that the luxury of relaxing feels foreign. Incredible relief fills me when I realize I don’t have to do this alone. For once, I can depend on someone else. Up to now, survival has been a lonely fight. I only had myself to rely on. When I finally give up the control I defended for so long and so fiercely to protect my life and my heart, exhaustion sneaks up on me.


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