Lombardi Famiglia Series by Jessica Gadziala – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Lombardi Famiglia Series by Jessica Gadziala – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com Fri, 06 Dec 2024 20:24:05 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0.1 http://www.wownovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Lombardi Famiglia Series by Jessica Gadziala – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com 32 32 Hold Him Like Gravity (Lombardi Famiglia #4) Read Online Jessica Gadziala http://www.wownovels.com/hold-him-like-gravity-lombardi-famiglia-4-read-online-jessica-gadziala Fri, 06 Dec 2024 20:24:05 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/hold-him-like-gravity-lombardi-famiglia-4-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Mafia Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: Lombardi Famiglia Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)

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Rico didn’t get to be a mafia capo by trusting easily, but he never expected his newest employee, Kick, to be a threat. The meat shop he runs is a perfect front to launder the family’s money, but when a violent robbery leaves Kick hurt and shaken, Rico’s control begins to slip. Drawn by a need to protect her, he finds himself opening up in ways he’s never dared—and growing close to the one person who could ruin everything.

Kick just wanted a fresh start, a simple job far from the shadows of her past. But the night of the robbery changes everything. Because she couldn’t tell Rico every detail. Like when she realized the tattoo on the arm of one of the robbers connects him to her own troubled past, pulling her into a dark web of secrets and danger.

The more she uncovers, the more she’s forced to make an impossible choice: turn on Rico to protect herself or stay loyal to the man she’s coming to love, even if it means risking everything.

In a world where betrayal is survival and love is weakness, giving her heart could cost her everything…

* each book in this series can be read as a standalone *

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE

Rico

When the fuck did meat get so goddamn expensive?

Here I was, trying to give the neighborhood a break since life had been beating ‘em all down for decades now, and the fucking suppliers raised their prices by twenty-seven percent over the past year.

And, shit, I got it. The cost of feed had gone up for them. These weren’t massive factory farms making millions a year. I got my meat from smaller farms that gave a shit about their animals and fed ‘em good food, so the end product was higher quality.

It just sucked that a small portion of that increase had to be meted out to the consumer when I’d been trying to keep costs down since I took over the meat shop.

The thing was, we didn’t even need the money. The shop was, obviously, a front. A way to wash our money. Keep the IRS man off our backs. That kinda shit. But we had to seem like we were making a profit on paper, so I had to increase prices.

And the increase just so happened to coincide with some renovations that were about to go into effect, so customers were naturally going to assume the increase was to pay for them.

I sighed, pushing the keyboard away from me then leaning back in my chair, staring up at some stain on the ceiling that had been there since I’d started running this place.

Another thing to bring up to the contractors who should be showing up at any moment.

“That bad, huh?” a voice said, making me turn toward the doorway to find one of my employees standing there.

She was the newest addition, hired by the guy I had in charge of that kind of thing. No one working at the meat shop was in the family because we were trying as hard as possible to make the place seem legitimate.

I wondered on more than one occasion if this chick had been hired because of all the pretty she had to throw around.

The meat shop was, well, a sausage fest most of the time. Apparently, there was some antiquated, sexist rule that men only wanted to buy meat from other men or some shit like that.

Working for a mafia family that had female mafia capos that were every bit as capable—if not more—than many of their male counterparts, that shit was whacked to me.

But we had to keep business coming in, so I let it slide that this girl was the only woman working in the entire building. And that, in general, they mostly had her stocking the cases or making sandwiches.

The irony wasn’t lost on me.

But, yeah, she was a fucking knockout.

I won’t lie, it was nice to see some pretty walking around the shop. And she had that in spades.

She was short, even for a chick, with a little soft around the hip, ass, and tits, but pretty compact otherwise. It was the face that really got your attention, though. Sleepy-looking hazel eyes, long hair dyed a deep burgundy color, pouty lips, and if you were up close enough, you could see a smattering of freckles over her nose and cheeks.

And, I shit you not, the woman always smelled like blueberry jam. Fucking blueberry jam. Even after a long shift.

I could smell her even then, clear across the room.

She had her long hair pulled back into a ponytail and her eye makeup had smudged a bit under her eyes.

She’d been here since opening but had stayed behind to do some of the deep cleaning I’d demanded be done before the construction started.

“Think people would object to turning the place into a beans and rice shop?” I asked, getting a bemused smile and a head tilt out of her. “Would be cheaper,” I added.

“Pretty sure a black bean parm wouldn’t be a popular sandwich,” she said.

“Prolly right. You heading out?”

“Yeah. Everything is done. Well, no. I have to take the trash to the dumpster.”

“No. Leave it. I’ll do it.”

“Is this a ‘little women shouldn’t be going into dark alleys at night’ thing?” she asked, brows raising.

Sometimes, she would say some shit that reminded me of the female capos I worked with. I once heard her threaten to put a man’s hand through a meat grinder, then make him a sandwich with it, and make him eat it. He’d grabbed her ass with that hand, so he had it coming.

But I liked the sass.

More than I probably should, given that I was her boss.

“Fuck yeah, it is,” I said, nodding, just wanting to get a rise out of her.

If anyone was hanging out in my alley, they’d get their asses handed to ‘em and they knew it. It was safe enough for her to be out there.

“I worked at an all-night bodega in the Bronx before this,” she told me, chin lifting defiantly. “Nothing in that alley could scare me.”

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Seek Him Like Shelter (Lombardi Famiglia #3) Read Online Jessica Gadziala http://www.wownovels.com/seek-him-like-shelter-lombardi-famiglia-3-read-online-jessica-gadziala Sat, 05 Oct 2024 02:32:16 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/seek-him-like-shelter-lombardi-famiglia-3-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: Lombardi Famiglia Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)

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Tasked with uncovering what the Bratva is plotting in the city, one day Elian sees something that wasn’t part of the plan. A woman, targeted by the very Russians he’s been tailing, is about to be silenced for good. Acting on instinct, he intervenes, not realizing that saving her will complicate everything.

As a campaign manager, Elizabeth knows how to navigate the murky waters of politics. But when she overhears the senator she’s working for is in bed with the Russian mafia, her world is turned upside down. The next thing she knows, she’s running for her life, and the only person who can help her is the mysterious stranger who saved her from certain death.

With the Russians closing in and the senator’s dark secrets threatening to unravel, Elizabeth turns to Elian for protection. As they delve deeper into the conspiracy, the stakes grow higher—and so does the heat between them. But with danger lurking at every turn as Elizabeth tries to bring a powerful man to justice, the only way to survive is to stay one step ahead… or risk losing everything…

* each book in this series can be read as a standalone *

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE

Elizabeth

The storm outside raged, the wind howling like a feral beast, rattling the windows and making my heartbeat thrum wildly against my ribcage. Lightning flashed, lighting up the corners of my darkened office.

A migraine was a vice grip on my temples, squeezing tighter with each clap of thunder. I leaned back in my chair, eyes squeezed shut as I rubbed my forehead in slow, deliberate circles in a futile attempt to dull the pain.

The screen of my computer was blinding to my overly sensitive eyes, piercing into my brain anytime I tried to look at it as the rain pelted rhythmically and relentlessly on the glass behind me.

Every ounce of me wanted to power down and finally head home for the night.

The neon clock at the corner of the screen taunted me. Midnight. The witching hour. Yet another day that passed me by while I spent every waking moment in this office that was steadily starting to feel more like a prison with each passing day.

Was it any wonder the stress had brought on yet another migraine? The third this week alone.

The storm outside and the one inside were fighting for dominance as I reached into my drawer for painkillers, set right there next to my trusty bottle of antacids that I was eating like candy most days.

I downed the pills with a swig of my long-cold coffee, the bitter taste a small price to pay if it would actually ease some of the pain, so I could get back to work.

My desk was a disaster, piles of folders and loose papers evidence of how behind I still was, despite pulling sixteen-hour days.

What can I say?

The reelection campaign wasn’t going well.

Polls were leaning out of our favor ever since a very motivated blue-collar worker from a bad area started her grassroots effort to take down the incumbent.

My boss.

A man who had held his position in the Senate almost as long as I’ve been alive.

Someone who, according to the aforementioned polls, was out of touch with the common man, who was in this for the money and the cushy government benefits, not to actually help the common man.

The thing was, the constituents weren’t even wrong.

That was the hardest part of this job. Running a campaign for a man you didn’t personally even respect, let alone like.

Michael Westmoore was the very definition of a slimy politician. Full of smiles for everyone he shit-talked behind their backs. Making speeches about the plight of the common man while wearing shoes that cost more than the average person made in a month. Preaching the importance of a strong middle class and unions while actively voting against anything that would actually help his people.

He’d also taken up a pretty severe filler addiction lately, on top of one too many facelifts, making his face look pulled too tight and emotionless.

The scandal of the week was him trying to give a moving speech, but his face had been so frozen that he looked like a robot.

The memes, God, the memes.

Hilarious, truly.

But really damning to the campaign.

And, man, the senator had been enraged. The whole office paid for that one. Even if, realistically, the only person to blame was his injectionist.

I was still trying to clean up that mess. Meanwhile the senator was already caught by some random member of the press saying something horrifically misogynistic about the young woman running against him.

If I didn’t need this job so much, I would jump ship and go work for her.

Alas, I’d been here for a while. The pay was good. The benefits… enough to keep me out of complete financial ruin if I found myself in the hospital for any reason.

It was a bad time to try to leave.

I just had to stick this out.

And silently vote for his challenger when the time came.

I clicked on my keypad, lowering the light on the computer in the hopes that I could just power through and get these new social media posts and newsletters drafted before I finally caught some sleep.

I willed the medicine to work faster, to bring me some peace amidst the turmoil.

Outside, the rain showed no signs of letting up.

A crash of thunder had me shooting up out of my chair, my nerves frazzled as I took myself into the bathroom in my office, leaving the light off as I wet some paper towels to press to the back of my neck, the pain making me sweaty and overheated.

I was still standing there when I heard the elevator ping, a sound I probably shouldn’t have been able to hear from so far away, but the migraine was making my hearing almost as sensitive as my sight and sense of smell that had me tossing out my dinner and throwing the bag down the chute before I even got to eat any.

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Need Him Like Oxygen (Lombardi Famiglia #2) Read Online Jessica Gadziala http://www.wownovels.com/need-him-like-oxygen-lombardi-famiglia-2-read-online-jessica-gadziala Thu, 22 Aug 2024 20:05:52 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/need-him-like-oxygen-lombardi-famiglia-2-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Mafia, Suspense Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: Lombardi Famiglia Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)

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Within the ruthless hierarchy of the mafia, Dav and Cinna reign as powerful capos within the same crime family.

Dav, with his gregarious charm and flirtatious disposition, hides a secret darkness that few ever glimpse. Despite his relentless advances, Cinna, strong-willed and fiercely independent, keeps him at arm’s length, determined to prove herself an equal in a male-dominated world.
One night, Cinna’s resolve is fractured when she is brutally attacked, leaving her shattered. Desperate to maintain her hard-earned respect amongst her family, she seeks out Dav, the only person she feels she can trust, begging for his help and swearing him to secrecy.
As she recovers under his protective care, a slow-building chemistry finally ignites between them, leading to a passionate encounter that leaves them both reeling.
But Cinna’s fears push her to erect walls around her heart, leaving Dav behind as she hunts for her assailant.
Yet, destiny keeps drawing them together, and with each dangerous step towards uncovering the truth, their growing feelings become impossible to ignore…

* Each book in this series can be read as a standalone. *

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE

Cinna

The moon was full, fragmenting through the spiderweb cracks in the windows, casting the room in light that made it hard to find shadows to hide in.

I slumped down the wall, the chill creeping in through the stone, seeping into my bones, making the sweat—or was it blood?—on my skin cool, dragging a shiver out of me.

My breath was coming in ragged gasps.

I couldn’t keep moving.

My lungs were on fire.

I needed a minute, just one, to bring some calm to the chaos in my body.

Even as I sucked in a greedy breath full of dust, exhaust, and the acrid scent of vomit, I heard it.

Heard them.

Footsteps.

Making their way in my direction.

Some part of me, a weak, pathetic part I thought I’d killed off years ago, simply wanted to give into the screaming in my ribs, the pain jackhammering in my skull, the throbbing ache in my arm, and the swirling exhaustion in my head, to slide all the way to the ground, let them find me, and just finish this.

My chin dipped toward my chest, eyes drifting closed, but I clawed my way back toward consciousness.

I had one singular goal here.

Survival.

I couldn’t afford to give in to the pain assaulting me with each movement, with each breath.

I had to keep moving.

Gritting my teeth against the way pain seared up my side as I stood, I turned and started to move again.

My steps were silent after kicking off my boots three rooms, two ripped socks, and two bloody soles ago.

This building, whatever it had once been, was clearly now a hangout spot for kids or junkies, the ground littered with broken beer bottles that sliced into my feet as I kept forcing my way across the room.

I tried not to think about what else might be littering the ground—used condoms, spent needles, piss, or that vomit scent that was getting stronger as I moved across the open space.

There would be time to worry about my injuries and infection later.

Right now, I had to move.

“Come out, come out, wherever you aaaare!” a sing-song voice taunted, making my stomach flip and my adrenaline surge.

There was an eerie silence outside of the building, like the city itself was holding its breath, was waiting to see what happened next.

I hated open floor plans. These big, spacious rooms with nowhere to hide, with nothing to put between you and those who meant you harm.

I crept across the room, my own breath and heartbeat so loud in my ears, I would swear they could hear it, even from a room or two away.

My hand slid instinctively toward my waist, looking for my gun.

The one they’d taken from me already.

Along with my knife.

My mace.

Everything I had to defend myself with.

Now it was just me, my instincts, and my will to survive.

Against three men who wanted me dead.

But not before they made me wish and beg for it first.

I reached outward, hand pressing into the release bar on the door, cringing as it clicked as it pushed inward, praying that my attackers didn’t hear it, didn’t come running.

As it turned out, they didn’t need to run.

Because they were on the other side of the door.

Waiting.

The blow came too swiftly to deflect, a fist straight to the jaw, whipping my head to the side, making me stagger, but not fall.

The next blow, though, landed on my already aching ribs, driving all the air from my lungs, and causing me to crash to the ground, the impact making pain slice through my head, my arm, my side.

“Look at the mighty Cinna now,” a sneering voice taunted as I tried to rise up, getting onto all fours. Before a boot connected with my side, sending me sprawling again, this time on my back. “Hold her down,” he ordered.

Rough hands grabbed me from both sides, pinning my arms and legs to the cold, hard ground, as the ringleader towered over me, the moon casting half his face in shadow, making him look like a villain from a movie.

Not someone I knew.

And that was maybe the scariest part.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” he said, leg rearing back to kick out again, colliding with the ribs on my other side, the pain a white-hot, blinding knife.

I fought the wave of panic as he leaned down, his lips bent in a sick smirk as his hand curled into a fist, the knuckles already broken open from the dozen or so times they had already collided with my face, with my body.

“That’s it,” one of his henchmen cheered as his fist cracked into my jaw, sending my head swinging to the other side as pain ratcheted up my face to pound in my temples. “Make her scream.”

I wouldn’t scream.

They could get my blood.

Break my bones.

But I would never give them the satisfaction of hearing my pain.

“Oh, I think I might make her scream alright,” my attacker said, the wicked gleam in his eyes making my heart lurch in my chest.

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Family Ties (Lombardi Famiglia #1) Read Online Jessica Gadziala http://www.wownovels.com/family-ties-lombardi-famiglia-1-read-online-jessica-gadziala Thu, 22 Aug 2024 20:05:50 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/family-ties-lombardi-famiglia-1-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Erotic, Mafia Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: Lombardi Famiglia Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)

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Emma
I almost proved to my father that I was more than just an irresponsible child. I was almost out of his grasp.
All it took was one night with a stranger for me to find myself pregnant and my entire future falling apart.
Worst of all? My father tells me that my one-night stand could ruin not only my life but our child’s life as well.

Enzo
The first time I laid eyes on Emma, I knew that she was destined to belong to me.
I made a deal with my father, Emma gets four years to go to university and grow up a little bit before I claim her as my wife.
Little did I know that Emma had no intentions of ever coming back.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One- Emma

“Stay close to me. Don’t leave my side. Allow me to do the talking, just smile and nod along,” my father tells me as he turns off the main road and onto a discreet side road. The trees make it nearly invisible if you don’t know what you’re looking for. I probably would have driven past it two or three times if I was the one behind the wheel.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes at my father. He’ll ground me for a week despite the fact I’m eighteen. He's a big fan of the idea that children should be seen and not heard. It's useless to try and remind him I'm no longer a child. A technicality in his eyes. I'll be a child until I've successfully graduated from law school and follow in his steps to be a lawyer. Until then, all behavior not to his standards will be seen as adolescent impropriety. His words, not mine.

“Don’t worry Dad, I doubt there will be anyone there I want to talk to anyways,” I tell him.

A few months back, an invitation showed up in the mail. Not unusual, my father is often invited to his client's events. This one had both of our names written on it in beautiful calligraphy, and it nearly sent my father into a panic attack. I volunteered to stay home, but he told me his client insisted I come.

His client wants to meet his family, and I'm the only family that my father has left.

Every decision that had to be made, he fretted over. It’s a black-tie event, more formal than anything I’ve ever attended. We about ran the poor store attendant ragged while picking out my dress. My father wanted to be sure I would blend into a crowd and be nothing worth taking a second glance at. His demands had almost offended me had I not seen the worry on his face.

Originally, he vetoed every dress that looked halfway decent on me. It took both the store attendant and me to reason with him I would garner as much attention if I looked bad as I would in a standout dress. A clown would draw more eyes than a queen if they were both in the same area. Afterward, he allowed the store attendant to pull dresses other than the awful pastel frocks he had been insisting on seeing me in. Anything pastel is not my friend.

Being a red-head has its perks. Color selection is not one of them.

The dress I’m wearing is expensive. Dark green silk fabric covers me from head to toe. A floor-length gown with long, fitted sleeves, the only hint of skin comes from the plunging neckline. My father tried to convince me to have it altered, but even with the open front, there's nothing inappropriate to show. At 18 years old, I feel like I’m still waiting for the puberty my friends experienced. They got boobs and curves. I got acne and an awkward amount of height.

“You're going to end up paying the dentist a fortune to fix your teeth after this wedding,” I tease him. His nerves have him grinding his molars, a habit that already cost him a pretty penny.

With the reminder, he forces his jaw to relax. He takes deep breaths until his whole body softens, the anxiety rolling off him in waves. He turns to me, his brown eyes soft, and I find my annoyance melting away. The look reminds me it’s the two of us against the world. It’s been that way ever since my mother died.

Things will change soon. After the wedding, when I get my even-tempered father back, we’re packing my bags for university. I’ll be moving to a new state and into a dorm room. I’m going to be at a new school. A prestigious university, and one that has boys. After so many years of attending an all-girls Catholic school, being around boys is both exciting and intimidating. If the wedding has been good for anything, it has been taking my father’s mind off my impending departure.

His entire attitude about me going away to Brown has been odd. He’s never let me spend the night at someone else’s house, only my aunt’s in Colorado when we go to visit her, yet he almost seems eager to send me off to university. I chalk it up to him being proud of me for getting into a great university. Part of me hopes that this is a sign that he's starting to see me as an adult, someone who can

“I promise, I haven’t forgotten the rules since the last time you reminded me about them,” I tell him. Taking care to make sure that my tone doesn't come off as sarcastic, not that it normally would. With every day the wedding has grown closer, I've felt like I've needed to step more lightly. With the wedding day finally here, it feels less like walking over eggshells and more like walking over shards of glass.

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