The Wrong Kind of Love Read Online L.P. Lovell, Stevie J. Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
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He keys a code into an access pad by a door, and when the lock pops, he pushes me through the entrance and into the haze of cigarette smoke.

Euan owes this man twenty grand? I struggle to believe my upstanding, medical student boyfriend taking money from a man like this. Euan’s family has money, a lot of money. Why would he need to borrow any?

The man pushes me down a hallway.

“This has to be a mistake,” I say. “He wouldn’t–”

He shoves me through a doorway hard enough that I trip, coming to a halt beside a desk.

My gaze stumbles over the man sitting behind it. I don’t know what I was expecting. Some sleazy-looking loan shark? A businessman? At least a suit and gold chains. But not this.

For a moment I forget where I am and who he is. Because he’s beautiful. The kind of man who could make a woman forget all her inhibitions with a single look. But his brutal beauty is overshadowed by the coldness and anger seeping from him.

Tattoos wind over his arms and throat, marking him as dangerous and unrefined, and nothing like any man I’d ever interact with.

“What the fuck is that, Rich?” The papers scattering the worktop crinkle beneath his palm as he slowly pushes out of his chair.

“He didn’t have the money. Kid gave her as collateral, and I gave him three days to pay up.”

A slight snarl sets on the man's lips as his gaze moves from Rich to me, like I’ve personally offended him with my unwilling presence. “You took a person—a girl—as collateral?”

“What the hell else was I supposed to take, Jude? They kid didn’t have anything else.” His gaze drags over me. “And if he doesn’t pay… your dick can get its money’s worth.”

I glare at Rich as sickness churns in my gut. Euan has a damn BMW, a TV…stuff. But I can’t say that because of the disgusting rag still jammed in my mouth.

Seconds tick by, Jude’s anger growing like a living, breathing thing. His gaze pins me to the spot as he rounds his desk, snatching Rich by his arm and dragging him into the hall. The door slams shut behind him, and seconds later a loud bang rings out. My heart lurches with the sound, sending my pulse racing.

That was a gunshot.

Jude steps back inside the office, shoving a massive gun in the waist of his jeans as he closes the door, then proceeds to approach me. I stumble away until my back hits the wall. My gaze hones in on the blood misting the bronzed skin of his throat, spattering between the tattoos like some morbid piece of art.

“Now what the fuck am I supposed to do with you?”

Jude

That was stupid as shit of Rich to bring some college girl into my office, bound and gagged, like this is a damn prison. Collateral is a car or Rolex, a fucking Van Gogh, not a woman. I swipe what I assume is either blood or Rich’s brain matter from my face.

I can’t even worry about why the hell he took her. It doesn’t really matter because he’s dead, and I have bigger problems right now. I’m already in the middle of a shitshow with Domingo Garcia, a damn cartel boss. I don’t have time to babysit this girl for the next three days.

I shoot off a text to Marney, telling him to get a cleaner out here to take care of Rich’s body. Then I send one to my brother, Caleb: Get your ass home when you're done at Elysium. We’ve got a problem.

After I drop my phone to the bet sheets, I glance up at the pretty blonde who looks like she’s just seen the Big Bad Wolf, teeth bared and dripping with blood. And damn, that university T-shirt she’s wearing does little to hide those curves. Fuck Rich. I wish I could kill you again just for the shit I’m about to have to deal with.

“Seriously? What the fuck?” Dragging a hand down my face, I pace the length of my desk, my irritation growing by the second. “I don’t need a goddamn college student holed up in my house for three fucking days!” I take the stapler from the desk and launch it at the wall, leaving a nice dent in the sheetrock.

She cowers as my gaze lands on the grease-covered gag in her mouth. She’s not the typical person I deal with, because those people know what they’re getting into with me. If a guy wants to jump in shark-infested waters, he can’t blame the shark for ripping his damn leg off. But she didn’t make the choice or place the bet.

It may not be her fault she’s here, but it doesn’t make me any less pissed.

I start toward her. Those blue-as-fuck eyes of hers fill with fear, and she flattens against the wall like she can sink through it and disappear.


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