All Chapters of Mafia's Cruel Arrangement : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Book 3 is another steamy Mafia romance crime saga featuring hardcore, taboo romance, sex with my bodyguard, A Possessive Mafia Romance etc full Book starts here 👇 I know what those hands have done— and it’s not pretty. Except maybe I like it a little ugly. A little twisted. A little broken. Ren’s the kind of man I’ve spent my life running away from: big, gorgeous, arrogant. He thinks the world revolves around his biceps. When I’m nearly killed in a drive-by shooting gone wrong, my father packs me up and ships me off to Philly, “for my protection,” whatever that means. Enter Ren, my new bodyguard. He wants to be the last man I ever need. I think he’s so full of it, he’s about to burst. But when a new war breaks out, I’m right back in danger And Ren says he’ll do anything for me. I say, I want him to prove it. chapter 1 Ren I stepped into the Leone family’s stupidly fancy foyer with blood still caking my right fist when I first saw her leaning up against the banister like

When Vince came calling, I had to answer. The Leone family was the largest mafia in Philadelphia, and I was still an independent guy, working all my jobs alone. I was happiest that way, and didn’t want to get tangled up by the Leones, but their money was good and the job was simple: track down a couple goons and beat the ever-loving shit out of them. I brought Floyd along and offered to split the pay sixty-forty. He thought it was an even split, but shit, that’s on him for not asking. “Either way. I hope they got the message.” Vincent smiled and clapped me on the shoulder, the one with the knife wound, and I grimaced. He had the good manners to look a little embarrassed before turning to Floyd. “Thanks for the assistance. I’m sure Ren will have your money soon.” “When I get paid, he gets paid,” I said, nodding. “Very good.” Vincent squeezed my shoulder. “I actually have another job for you, if you’d be willing to talk?” I hesitated. I really didn’t want to get too involved. The Le

Amber Vincent hustled me out to his house in Mt. Airy the next day, accompanied by my hired goon babysitter. I ignored him. It wasn’t easy though. He was a big guy, broad shoulders, stubble on his face and chin, but he held himself with this strange grace that I couldn’t totally understand. He commanded a room, and I kept sneaking glances in his direction, and caught him looking back at me, seemingly unashamed at being caught. I didn’t know what his deal was, but it annoyed the hell out of me, and drove me wild at the same time. The Mt. Airy house was Vincent’s wife’s place, a nice, pretty girl named Mona. She met us out front in black pants and a white button-down shirt. She was a few years older than me, with dark hair cut short, and dark brown eyes. She smiled, hugged me, glanced at Ren, then held me by the shoulders. “You must be Amber. Vince told me all about you.” “Yeah?” I asked, smiling a little, trying to ignore the way Ren loomed behind me. “I hope it’s all good thin

Ren At first, the job wasn’t so bad. I hung around that big house, watched TV when I felt like it, bothered Amber when I got bored, and kept out of Mona’s way as much as I could. Things were quiet for a while, but after a few days it started to get real old, real quick. Amber wasn’t happy. That got pretty obvious by the fiftieth time she told me to go fuck off. Not that I minded if she told me to go to hell, to be totally honest—I sort of liked that she pushed back against me. The girl had spirit, she was a goddamn handful, but I could tell something hung over her. I kept thinking about those fresh-looking scars on her body, so like the bullet wound scars I’d seen on countless other guys, and had a couple myself, but that made no sense. I couldn’t imagine what a girl like her would be doing with bullet scars. One night, Mona decided to head into the city. Amber watched her go like a sad puppy, and I knew she wanted to go with her, if only to escape the house for a little while. I l

I walked along the bar toward a large man up near the door. He was on the way to the restrooms, so I had a good excuse to pass him. I exaggerated my sway, just a little bit, making myself look drunker than I was. The guy had a goatee, a double chin, and a tiny sprout of hair at the top of his head. I noticed the Rolex first, then the way he leaned toward a much younger, much prettier girl and grinned at her with a creepy hunger in his eyes, and I’d watched him down three drinks since I’d started my first. He was rich, he was trying to impress a girl, and he was drunk, which made him ideal.It wasn’t a complicated maneuver. Amber stared at me, wild and ready to get up and chase me down, so I hurried a little bit. I turned the corner toward the restrooms and bumped into the guy, grunting as I did it loudly. My hand slipped into the pocket of the jacket he had hung on his chair— found nothing.“Shit, sorry,” I grunted, and slipped my hand into his pants pocket. It was tricky, but they we