Sold to the Mob Boss: A Mafia Romance (Lavrin Bratva), Nicole Fox [ebook reader 7 inch txt] 📗

“She’ll sell for a lot of money. Hopefully, enough to make this night a success,” Eitan says. “I told you Augustin would deliver someone worthwhile.”

Sweat drips from the man’s hairline. I can’t help but smile every time a groan or grunt passes his lips. My advisor is a bit on the pale side. His eyes dart between the stage, the customers, and the screen of his iPad. He’s a weasel and a snake, but he’s my snake. The only one I trust, though even that has its limits.

I glance around the room, taking in all the customers. Everyone is focused on the girl. Some are whispering to their lieutenants. Eitan is right; she will certainly bring in a lot of money. But where the hell did Augustin find this rare creature? She’s definitely not an addict. And I can’t imagine her being a runaway. She’s far too innocent to have been on the streets. I pray that she isn’t some rich brat who wanted to piss off Mommy and Daddy; otherwise, I’ll have the cops crawling around. But that won’t be my problem once she’s sold. It’s one of the terms in the contract the winning bidder has to sign—they take on all responsibility, and no refunds are given.

I take her in once more. Her hair is a lovely shade of whiskey. The way the locks frame her eyes makes her look innocent and beautiful at the same time. But those lips, those damn lips, are cock-sucking lips. Full and plump. My dick jerks at the thought.

I clear my throat and straighten in my seat. This is my show, my income. I’m the boss here, and showing any interest or any emotion isn’t an option. Especially with potential enemies in the room. In this world, every mob boss and lieutenant is just waiting for a sign of weakness to jump on so they can take over.

“Eitan, how much have we made so far?” My attention bounces between the highest bidders in the room as I wait for him to answer.

“So far, about seventy-nine thousand.” Eitan sighs, his shoulders slumping. He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and dabs his hairline “I’m hoping this next lot pulls in the rest of the cash we need.”

I grunt in agreement. I can’t afford to lose money tonight.

The auctioneer returns to the stage. The first time we met, I pulled a gun on him for trying to duck out of one of my bars without paying his tab. But he managed to talk me out of killing him for it. Instead, I had him beaten to within an inch of his life, then I gave him a job. It turned out nicely. The man is good and has helped keep my auctions successful.

The auctioneer taps the microphone to get everyone’s attention and I sit back, ready to enjoy the show. “Ladies and gentlemen, first up in lot five is a lovely Hispanic beauty. Bid starts at three thousand.”

A hand goes up.

“Three thousand. Do I hear four thousand?”

Another hand goes up.

The auctioneer and the bidders continue their dance until the Hispanic woman is sold for twenty-five thousand to the wife of the Dinotto family. Finally, we’ve hit one hundred thousand in revenue. But to make this night a success, I want about three times that. I pull at my jacket and watch as the next girl is auctioned off, trying to avoid looking at the beautiful creature Augustin managed to drag in.

Eitan continues to keep track of the winning bids on his tablet. My lieutenants bounce between their security patrols and gawking at the woman on stage. At least they’re behaving professionally. Nothing I hate more than one of my men acting like an uneducated prick. They represent me, and I don’t tolerate people making me look bad. There are no second chances and they know it.

“Damn, what I wouldn’t give to run a train on that brunette bitch.”

Of course, one of the newest lieutenants has decided to open his fucking mouth. My blood boils in an instant and I turn around and grab the lapels of the man’s jacket. “Shut the fuck up before I put a bullet in your head.”

My nostrils flare as each breath comes out rushed. When the man doesn’t respond, I inch my face closer to his, my eyes unblinking. “Acknowledge.”

“Sorry, boss.” The man ducks his head and slinks backwards.

I turn back around to face the stage but can see the rest of my men staring at me. What the hell did I just do? The kid spoke quietly enough that none of the other families could have heard. And his comment was hardly the most offensive thing I’ve ever heard. But the moment he completed his sentence, an image of his vile fingers violating that beauty flashed in my head.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath to calm myself. When I open them, my men are facing forward, spines straight, and they’re back on alert. They know better than to fuck with me, or question me.

My father was a kinder man. Eitan reminds me of that every day. He’d probably have laughed with my lieutenant, or even high-fived the kid. But that kindness got him killed, and I won’t allow anyone to take advantage of me.

I grind my molars together as memories of my father swirl around in my head.

***

Years ago

“Sure is hot today,” Dad said.

I grunted and trekked up the small hill. “Hot doesn’t even cover it. I thought the trees were supposed to keep things cool.”

My father chuckled. “Blame it on global warming.”

I took in all the air my lungs could hold and expelled it slowly. The air was rich with the fragrance of leaves and loam. The path twisted in front of us, snaking around the trees. The roots crisscrossed, gnarled and uneven. These hikes with my father were like a trip out of my everyday life. It was the only time all year I got to spend time with him by myself.

The