 by Tory Baker.jpg)
Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
As head of the Italian mob, Nico has his hands full. He doesn’t have the kind of life that invites love. There’s something about Journey that makes it impossible to stay away.
He does everything he can think of to protect her while still making her a part of his world.
Yet, when his enemies discover his woman is his biggest weakness, they strike. Nico will have to save her, while making sure everyone knows the consequences of trying to hurt the only woman who will ever own his heart.
Tory is back with an over the top Alpha crime boss in a story that’s full of steamy hot scenes that sizzle. To make it even better, it’s all tied up in a happily ever after bow for you to enjoy!
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
ONE
Journey
I love my family, I truly, truly do, but when it comes to one of mom’s charity events, we’re all required to attend. Okay, fine, it’s the only one she organizes, and for a damn good reason, too. Mom’s sister, my Aunt Katerina, well, to say her life was hard is putting it mildly. She didn’t find a man like my father, one who worked his fingers to the bone, loved his wife and children unconditionally, one whom material things didn’t matter to. His family knowing they were loved and providing a roof over our heads and food in our bellies was what he was after. Don’t get me wrong; Dad had pride, worked two jobs so Mom could stay home with me until kindergarten, then she worked hours that worked right along with my school schedule while Dad continued to work, putting my brother, Wylder, through college. And they would have done the same for me, except I veered onto a different path. Tonight is all about Aunt Katerina and the many who suffered at the hands of someone else. It’s probably why my emotions are so heavy, knowing that it still happens. Even if I didn’t know my aunt that well, what I remember is watching my mother crumble when the cops knocked on our door, bringing us the news that my aunt’s husband killed her. Death by strangulation. It was horrible to hear the news at nine years old, to watch my dad barely catch Mom before her knees hit the ground. Ever since that day, she volunteered at the local women’s shelter for domestic violence, bringing me right along with her as a way to give back. My parents tried for years to get Aunt Katerina to leave her husband. The one time she was packed up after he was leaving town for a few days cost her her life. He came back when she least expected it, that was when he finally took everything out on Aunt Katerina, leaving us completely devastated.
Every year, Mom hosts this huge gala, charging thousands for a plate, receiving donations galore, and holding auctions out the wazoo to help not just the local women’s shelters but many across all of Nevada. It always leaves me feeling heavy. It also spurs my ass into purging anything and everything I can from my overflowing closet. Which is why the second my feet hit my condo, my heels came off and the zipper to my dress rasped down, leaving it in a pool of fabric at the front door for me to pick up later. I marched into my bedroom, found a comfy pair of navy-blue joggers, hiked them up my hips, unclasped my bra because no one needs a torture device when you have some, slid on a white tank top, and then headed to the closet to find a sweatshirt. Yes, it’s hot as hell in Vegas this time of year, but that doesn’t mean I don’t freeze my tits off, the air conditioning might be set to seventy-six degrees Fahrenheit; that doesn’t mean I don’t get cold. It’s who I am by nature. Anything below what the thermostat says inside my place, and I’m wrapping myself up in more than what I’m wearing now.
I flip the light switch on in my closet, knowing it’s time to make some headway in this disaster of a room. No one ever tells you when you’re an influencer on Instalook that you’ll have more clothes, shoes, and accessories than you know what to do with, or that the hours you’re keep getting started and continuing on further in your career is ridiculous. I’m talking all hours of the day and night some weeks. Others, like the one I have coming up, are much easier. They always are this time of year. Those two weeks, a week before the charity gala and after, I keep my calendar open, knowing Mom needs help to make sure things run smoothly, and after because, well, sometimes shit gets heavy.