Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 75107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Stephanie lives for Christmas. Her nonprofit’s annual toy drive means thousands of kids wake up to gifts under the tree—and this year, she’s determined to make it the best yet. What she doesn’t know is that the convoy of trucks carrying those toys has a second cargo hidden inside… one that belongs to the mafia.
Venezio has one keep the shipments safe. He never expected it could go so wrong.
Now they’re racing through streets glittering with lights, hunted by an assassin and tangled in secrets. She won’t let the mob ruin Christmas for the kids. He won’t let anyone lay a hand on her. Somewhere between chaos and carols, Venezio and Steph give in to the feelings growing between them.
But the holiday is coming. And if they don’t outwit their pursuers before the bells toll, Christmas morning may bring nothing but blood.
** this book can be read as a standalone **
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER ONE
Venezio
Snow drifted down in fat, lazy flakes, softening the hard edges of the city. Nearly every window glowed with strings of lights; each lamppost was draped in pine garland and bows.
People were everywhere, ducking in and out of storefronts, arms heavy with shopping bags, or families rushing to see Santa or the tree in Times Square.
The world around me was drunk on Christmas cheer, but for me, it always kind of felt like sticking my face against the glass of a party I’d never been invited to. Decorations, cookies, the carols spilling out of doorways—they belonged to other people. That had never been the life I’d known.
I ducked my head down against the snow and kept walking, my boots crunching on the powder that had already started to accumulate.
Up ahead, Lorenzo Costa’s brownstone was decked out for the season—wreaths adorned every window, garland framed the front door, and a life-sized colorful nutcracker stood guard on the step beside the actual human guard in his thick puffer coat, his breath puffing out smoke in the cool night air.
I’d never got my ass personally summoned to the capo dei capi’s house before.
Figured I was about to be promoted or murdered. Either way, there didn’t seem to be a reason to put it off, so I rushed up the stairs, nodded to the guard, then moved inside.
The warm air slapped me in the face as I tried to knock some of the snow off my boots before making my way into the dining room where the boss always held his private meetings.
Christmas threw up all over the inside of his place, too. Thick garland strung with twinkle lights and red and gold ornaments framed each doorway, matching décor draped the fireplaces, a Christmas village filled the seating area of the bow window, and a giant tree sat in the living room, a train lazily chugging around the skirt.
Somewhere in the house, Bing Crosby was crooning about toys being in all the stores. Something sweet was in the air, but I had no idea if it was cookies baking or a candle burning.
“What are you looking for?” Lorenzo asked when I stepped into the doorway and looked down at the floor instead of at the collection of nutcrackers down the center of the table or the dozens of Christmas cards displayed on the sideboard.
“Tarp,” I admitted, rocking back on my heels.
“You thought I’d off you in my house? With my kids upstairs?” Lorenzo asked, shaking his head. “Besides, don’t do much of the dirty work myself anymore,” he admitted. “You gonna take off your coat and sit down, or…”
I turned around to go back into the foyer, shrugged off my jacket, and hung it in the closet before heading back in.
Lorenzo Costa was what the ’80s movies said gangsters were: tall, fit, good-looking, and perpetually wearing a fucking suit. Even in his own house on a random Monday night.
Then again, pretty much every member of the Costa Family dressed that way. I was the odd man out in my black jeans, tees, and Timbs.
“Coffee?” he asked when I dropped down into a chair.
“Rather figure out what the fuck I did wrong and be on my way.”
Lorenzo’s brow raised, but he said nothing as he sat down. “What makes you think you did something wrong?”
“This feels like being summoned to the fucking principal’s office in school.”
“Spent a lot of time there, huh?”
“Not as much as I spent in detention.”
“You’re not in trouble,” Lorenzo said. “Unless you’ve done something I don’t know about yet, you’ve been keeping your head down, earning, and kicking up like you should.”
“Pretty sure I’m not here to get a pat on the back.”
“No,” Lorenzo said, exhaling. “I have a job for you.”
“Me?”
While we all technically worked for Lorenzo, I usually only got orders from one of his capos—Cosimo.
“Yeah.”
“Why me?”
“Can I level with you?”
“Don’t gotta dance around shit with me.”
“Alright. In that case, I need you because everyone else is busy with Christmas shit. Family shit. And you—”
“Don’t got nobody,” I filled in when he hesitated.
“I wasn’t going to put it that way, but, yeah, essentially. Between holiday parties, shopping, wrapping, Christmas concerts at school, all that shit, everyone is swamped from now until Christmas.”
“I got time. What do you need?”
“The Family have been long-time donors to a local charity that provides presents to shelter kids and their families.”
Honestly, the charitableness of the mob was probably the most surprising thing to me when I’d been brought on to work with them. The cynical part of me wanted to think it was a tax write-off thing, but it seemed like everyone had a cause they took up for: the homeless, women’s shelters, animals.
“Something tells me that you ain’t just doing it out of the goodness of your heart.”
“Well, we were for years. Until someone got an idea that helped us move some product into the city without suspicion.”