Thorns of Desire (THORNS OF OMERTÀ #5) by Eva Winners EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Eva Winners
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 5.3 MB
- Price: Free
MANUEL
Eleven Years Later
Lampposts lit up the streets of Paris, casting a romantic glow as I made
my way to the Marchetti venue where Reina Romero’s fashion show
was due to start. Though Enrico was technically my nephew, he was
only five years younger than me—the son of my older brother. Enrico and I,
along with his brother, were raised as cousins since we were all close in
age, but we were all raised in the world of the Omertà, where the only vow
that counted was the one given to the mafia.
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Over the last few decades, the organization in Italy had changed and
adapted, allowing it to flourish. The five ruling families—Marchetti,
DiMauro, Agosti, Romero, and Leone—had developed a finely honed sense
of loyalty among their citizens, but we’d also made powerful alliances with
the Irish, Russians, Brazilians, and Greeks. And through Kingston—the
infamous Ghost—even with the Ashfords. Together we ran one of the most
successful criminal organizations in the world, the Thorns of Omertà.
We had plenty of people who opposed us, and they never hesitated to
strike from the shadows.
Like now.
I sensed the presence behind me and came to a stop in front of the
window shop. I casually flicked a glance at the display, my eyes locking on
the reflection behind me.
I turned slowly and met the fucker head-on, but before I could utter a
single word, my stalker took off running.
The ignorant man would need to be taught that nobody ever escaped
me. I trained too hard, kept my body in too strong a physical state to let
myself be a target. And if they happened to outrun me… well, I always
found them.
I started running, grateful for the loaded gun in my holster but pissed off
about my custom suit and shoes. If we weren’t in the middle of the city, I’d
shoot the motherfucker and get on with my night.
My loafers pounded against the pavement as I closed in on him,
stretching my arm out and grabbing him by his collar. I spotted an alley and
yanked him into it. He fell onto his knees, and before he could stand up, I
propped my foot on his shoulder like my own personal footstool.
“No use running,” I said, my voice sharp. My eyes fell to the tattoo on
his hand, a Chinese symbol in the mouth of a skull. “There’s nowhere to
run.”
He lifted his hands in surrender. “Mercy.”
He knew better. There was no mercy in this world.
“Why are you following me?” I asked instead.
“I’m n-not,” he stuttered, his accent thick.
I sighed. “Who are you following, then?” The full moon over us
glimmered as I waited for his answer. I pulled out my gun and shoved the
barrel against his skull. “Who?”
“Atticus,” he choked out. “He’s in Paris.”
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