Virtuous Vows Read Online T.L. Smit

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
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“Well, the offer stands.”

“Not to live here anymore, I hope,” Crue states, walking in and lifting my suitcase. I try not to laugh because I know Crue Monti does not take kindly to being laughed at, but his eagerness is humorous.

“Is there at least a bed?” I ask him.

“Yes. And a couch and TV. Everything is sorted, and you’re welcome.” He strides out of the bedroom, and as we reach the door, he looks back to Rya and growls, “Be naked when I return.”

“I did not need to hear that,” I tell them, shaking my head.

Crue and I go down a few floors in the elevator, and at the end of the hallway, Crue stops at a black wooden door. I’m amazed by how chic the style is when he opens it. This apartment is not as big as the penthouse, but the two-bedroom is still massive, which is perfect for me.

Butterflies dance in my stomach as I take in the living room on my left and the kitchen on my right with an island bench. Past the entertainment area are floor-to-ceiling glass windows with a stunning view.

“I had the TV delivered today, and all the other bullshit. Don’t bother your sister for a good twenty-four hours,” Crue demands, placing my things down and then walking out, shutting the door behind him.

Crue also slammed the door closed on Marco, preventing him from entering. No doubt he wants to come in and inspect the safety of everything, but I want a few minutes alone to inspect it myself.

I bite my bottom lip, and a little squeal escapes. This is actually all mine? I run my hand along the kitchen counter, admiring its space and imagining everything I can cook . I peek into the bedroom. Seeing the dusky pink duvet on the bed, I jump on it, feeling like a big kid, and look to my right at the view through the windows. Maybe New York will look good on me. Slowly, all the expectations that have weighed me down slip away.

No one knows who I am here—not even me—and I feel like I’m taking my first deep breath for the first time in a long time.

A small spark of rebellion ignites within me.

Maybe I should try to have as much fun as possible while here.

And with that thought, the excitement is overwhelming.

CHAPTER 6

Dawson

It’s not often I interfere with who my store managers hire and fire, but I do see all the names that come along my desk regarding payroll sign-ups. And when her name pops up, I’m surprised and recognize it immediately. Part of me almost considers whether Crue put her up to this, but he isn’t the type to waste time playing games on something trivial. That and no one else knows how much this little honeypot has gotten under my skin.

Honey Ricci.

How has she wound up so innocently stepping into my world?

This particular store hires only on looks, employing only those who can sell the products and understand the garments. Without even looking at her resume, which I doubt has very much, if any, work history, it’s obvious why the manager hired her. She reeks of innocence and wild fantasies, and the incredible part of that is she doesn’t realize it.

“Dawson.” I look up as Daphne confidently strolls into my office. Daphne and I have an on-again, off-again relationship. Contractual, of course. She once worked for me as a private escort until we progressed further. With boundaries, contracts, and expectations in place, we’re both protected. I look after her financially, and she abides by my regular catch-ups to please me. This is a catch-up I haven’t organized since I got back from Italy because of a certain slip-up I had with Honey. I can’t believe I almost gave her something for free, leaving myself open to liability—the woman could have taken everything I’ve built if we went there.

My jaw tightens as Daphne sits on the corner of my desk, my mind still raging on Honey. Something about her drew me in, and I lost all my senses. I would have fucked her in that supply closet without protection, and that little rendezvous could have cost me everything.

Which is very unlike me.

“So, I need new lingerie…” Daphne smiles at me. Her long brunette hair falls over her shoulder as she looks at me pointedly with her forest-green eyes. I know she’s probably unsure why I haven’t called her in the last few weeks, and curiosity has gotten the better of me regarding the store.

“Great, I was just heading to the store. You can come with me.”

Pleased with my answer, Daphne hops off the desk and adjusts her skirt. Usually, I would give her my credit card or tell the store she’s coming. I would never personally take her there.

My stores cater to a particular level of clientele—those who can splurge at around the cost of a new car.


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