Texting the Mafia Hitman Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
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“Argh,” I grunt, as hot come explodes up my length. I rub faster, squeezing harder, thinking of her tight walls gripping me like she wants to keep me inside her perfect, hot body.

Then it passes. The lust fades. I open my eyes to find the sink covered in my release. Shame returns, tinged with the past. This is the first time I’ve been sexual since… I can’t even think about it.

As I clean up, I tell myself not to do that again. I’ll focus on my mission—keeping Lexi safe. Everything else is just a distraction.

When I emerge from the bathroom, Shadow looks at me with an accusing glint in his eyes.

“I know,” I tell him. “I’m supposed to be cold. Dead inside. I’m not supposed to care and lust, boy. Lust for a man like me? That was supposed to have died a long, long time ago. What the hell is wrong with me? Who do I think I am?”

I groan, feeling like I’m about to start monologuing like a character in a Russian classic. Walking through the apartment, I drop onto the couch, pick up my cell phone, and think about texting my woman again.

Ha, ha, ha. My woman, Lexi, a stranger—a woman I’ve met once in my life.

Putting my phone aside, I grab my laptop and scour the neighborhood watch forums, a bad habit I should’ve left behind long ago. Who do I think I am, some wannabe hero? After what I did—the years separating me from it don’t make it sting any less—I can’t pretend to be the good guy. I can’t pretend I’m some saint.

Even so, I keep looking, then find a post titled Somebody please help me! Next to the words, there’s a snake emoji.

I open the post, my jaw clenching the more I read.

A week ago, a man arrived at my dad’s convenience store. He’s had that same store, on the same corner, for two decades. This man is with a group called the Serpentes or Serpents. They’re some big-time gang, he says! Well, he freaked my dad out, and now they want half—yep, HALF—of his weekly income. I’ve tried calling the cops but in this area? What good do you think that did? I don’t even know why I’m writing this unless… Can somebody please help me? Please? The address is 78 Wharf Street, Bayview Heights, New Haven, and they collect every Friday.

“The world’s going nuts, boy,” I murmur, thinking of Luca’s words last week. It was after a quick spar. He was stopping by before quickly going home to be with his family, and he was red-faced and happy. “I never believed in fate before I met my Ruby…”

I rolled my eyes, thinking nothing of it. Fate doesn’t factor into the equation of my life. But this, the Serpents being here, it’s just too much of a coincidence. I left them in Vegas. I left them in a shower of blood. I left them as corpses, and I ran, letting my mistake die with them. Or that’s what I thought, at least.

Yet fate is playing its role. It’s collection day.

I leave Shadow at home and drive out to the store. I only take him on jobs I’ve thoroughly researched, not wanting him to get hurt. As I sit outside, my cell phone buzzes. It’s Lexi.

Hey, Colt. I just wanted to say… you don’t have to trail me. Not if it’s going to be an inconvenience or anything like that.

What the hell? It’s far from being an inconvenience. I feel like it’s my duty, but she won’t expect me to view it like that. She has no idea how I feel. She’d probably think I’m insane if I told her what I did earlier, stroking my manhood, thinking of her, savoring every detail in my mind.

I’m not going to let you live in fear, Lexi. No arguments now.



I wait for her message to arrive, but there’s nothing.

Looking up again across the street, I immediately realize my mistake. I let my attention waver. Before Lexi, keeping laser-focused was easy, but not anymore. My mind, this past almost year, has been constantly straying to her.

Men in masks surround my car—four of them, with a non-masked man standing right in front of my vehicle. The worst part is I recognize his face. He was just fifteen the last time I saw him. It’s why I didn’t put him in the dirt, too.

He’s grown into a tall, broad man, his dark black hair shiny with product slicked back. His smile is cocky. His eyes are wide, maybe stoned, maybe just excited at this long-awaited meeting. He strolls to the side of my car and taps on the windshield.

I laugh gruffly, shaking my head. “That’s not happening, Eddy.”

Eduardo Serpente bares his teeth in what might pass for a smile. “I’m guessing these are bulletproof?” He taps the window again. “That’d be like you, Colt.”


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