(Formerly Titled "My Girlfriend is a Gangster") Will Scott is an MI-5 field agent in deep undercover and has been for twelve years. As the top Capo of one of the oldest branches of Camorra outside of Italy, he commands a large squadron of foot soldiers and has earned the ultimate trust of his grandfather, Enzo Esposito, the last real Grande Capo in the organization who still follows the old ways. Under Will's leadership, his side of the family business has been the most profitable and trouble-free in the last thirty years. The underbosses think he will take over once the old man dies. He is the natural heir. He will be the one to usher them into the future and even bigger profits. But his own father is not convinced. Known as the Gentleman Gangster, Will has never gotten his hands dirty, so his father doubts where his loyalties lie. His father doesn't think he has the killing instinct, the driving need to crush others, in order to be the Grande Capo. To test his mettle and kinship, he commands Will to take over their nightclub operations in San Francisco, New York City, and Los Angeles. Not only will Will finally see the underbelly of the family business, he must also deal with the "Yakuza problem." The first item on his list: Akiko Takeshi. She is rumored to be the daughter of the chairman of the Yamagata clan, Takeshi Oroku. She is as lovely as she is deadly. Otherwise, she is just another pretty face in Los Angeles, making her living as a dancer at Starstruck, a premiere nightclub in West Hollywood owned by the mysterious entity, Jupiter Holdings, Inc. But Will is not fooled by the lady's bimbo facade. She is their key to taking down the Yamagata clan.View More
She needed to do better. How could she expect Mister Boss Man to drop his guard and grant her more freedom if she weren't willing to play ball? Ugh, but there was just something about him that riled her up. She'd met some gangsters in the past who'd put up a classy, shit-don't-stank facade to cover up the fact that they're nothing more than two-bit thugs, but Guillaume Esposito was the real-deal Holyfield. The dude acted like a duke, probably because he had aristocracy in his bloodline or something. For all she knew, he could be the third cousin to Prince Harry or a descendant of Richard the Third. Who knew with British people? Ugh, he bothered her so much. In movies, he'd be the super-posh, ultra-rich asshole who was mean to poor people and customer service staff and never got his comeuppance at the end. It wasn't right, this preoccupation she had with him. She couldn't allow him to distract her from he
The glare she gave him was nothing short of malevolent. "Go ahead. Give me your best shot. And stop calling me kitten."He had to admire her. Almost everyone who knew him was afraid of him. But here she was, challenging him to what she might imagine as a slap-tickle fight. He grinned inwardly. If she could see it, maybe she wouldn't be as brave as she was now. "If I take you down, kitten, it wouldn't be with my fists, and you won't be getting up for a long time."His words appeared to have some effect on her as her eyes flashed with an emotion he couldn't recognize before she ducked her head to sip her drink. "Do you understand me, kitten?""Don't call me that." She set her glass down on a coaster on the bedside table. "So... beating women is your kink, huh?"He shrugged
Will didn't think she would comply. He had, after all, terrorized and traumatized her in the last several hours. He even had her locked up. She should have been spitting nails at him.And yet her body was turned toward him at the waist and she was staring intently into his eyes like she was willing him to do something because she was lost and didn't know what to do next.Well, he knew what he should be doing right now. He was supposed to be meeting up with the undercover field agents one by one who would serve as his backup, to brief them on what he might need help with. Instead, he was here, on a bed with an incredibly desirable woman and for some reason, they were both still fully clothed and not even touching. Obviously, this was an error that must be immediately rectified.She put her hand on h
The olive-skinned woman was not skinny, but not fat, either. Her dark brown hair which was pulled back into a thick bun was graying along the sides and her temples. She had a warm, open face with a prominent nose and crow's feet in the corners of her dark eyes. Kiki had a good feeling about her immediately.She wondered how much the older woman knew about whom she served--Big Shot Gangster Man. Did she know their guest was technically a kidnapee? But of course she did. She had to enter a code for the door to unlock, didn't she? How could she reconcile being an accomplice to unlawful confinement with the whole pleasant, helpful housekeeper thing?Kiki told herself to stop it. She didn't need all this crap cluttering her head before she could even have her first sip of coffee.The older woman seemed to loo
Kiki kept her eyes shut and breathed evenly for a few minutes after Guillaume Esposito left her room. It had been a struggle to pretend she was sleeping when he was standing next to the bed, just a few feet away from her. He emanated sheer masculinity and raw power. He prowled over her like a jaguar guarding its kill, his presence enveloping her like a cool shroud. Her body reacted hungrily to his scent. The moment she smelled him, a yearning she had never before experienced struck her core. Suddenly, there was nothing else in the world she needed, not even her next gulp of air, but the weight of this man on her, crushing her into the mattress. She had never been so tempted...To her relief and consternation, he was not there to seduce her, after all. She didn't quite know how to process this. On one hand, she was disappointed that she wo
He had directed Mrs. Echevarria to clean her up and dress her wounds. The old housekeeper had installed her in one of the bigger suites with a personal bathroom and was now in the process of helping her bathe along with the assistance of two other maids, one of whom used to be a nurse's assistant. Mrs. E later reported that their guest was very quiet and cooperative, only saying "please," "thank you," and "no, thank you." This perturbed him a little bit because from what little he'd seen of Kiki Chow, he already discovered she was a whirling dervish of energy and emotions as well as a spark plug.And what he knew of Akiko Takeshi from the dossiers he had received, she was a fierce warrior in her own right, an exacting underboss who expected nothing short of excellence from her people. Within a matter of months, she crushed the Bakuto clan presence in both Toronto and Ontario, so she could claim the t
William Scott stared at the woman kneeling in front of him, with her head down in supplication, and took a few breaths in order to stem the barrage of disturbing, erotic thoughts that assailed his mind. She was his to do as he wished. From this point on, he owned her. Whatever life she had before him would be abandoned and forgotten."Hello, Kitty." He grabbed a fistful of her soft, bubblegum-pink hair and wrapped it around his hand. He yanked her upward decisively to let her know that he wanted her on her feet. This forced her to lift her chin and show him her face.The expression in Kiki's eyes was a punch to his solar plexus. They were wet with tears, but there was fire in those inky depths, a sort of defiant anger. She was not going to beg for her life. It was ridiculous, but he felt a sense of pride for her for that.
Kiki put on her hoodie and grabbed her backpack from her locker. After taking one last look around to make sure she didn't forget anything, she pushed open the back door that led to the stairs which would take her down to the underground garage. Employees actually had to park out in the back lot, but Millie the club manager gave the dancers special permission to park in the garage so they don't get hassled.Kiki hugged her hoodie tighter around herself and took a deep breath before going down the dimly lit aisles to find her car. Usually, only the valets had access to the garage since the club only offered valet parking. There would be no random drunks wandering about looking for their car or a couple arguing about who gets to drive because one of them is drunker than the other.This was why when she came across a group of large men pointing guns at
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