The Bratva Queens’ Kings (THE BRATVA BILLIONAIRES’ CLUB #3) by Celeste Riley EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Celeste Riley
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Lana
“I swear, if this guy screws us over, I’m personally shoving him into
his own shipment,” I mutter, rolling the window down just a crack to flick
my gum out. The LA skyline looms like a beast in the night, all lit up and
ready to swallow souls whole. My Ray-Bans are pointless at this hour, but
they’re like armor. You don’t go into battle without your armor.
Grigori’s beside me, a mountain of a man with fists that have told
more stories than my entire collection of scars. Roman’s outside, directing
the circus of our guys as they load boxes that aren’t exactly filled with your
grandma’s secret cookie recipe. The night’s thick with tension, and even the
air feels like it’s up to no good.
We pull up to the docks, a place that smells like salt, sin, and a little
bit of desperation. Perfect for a Tuesday night deal. The smuggler’s waiting,
a smug smile plastered on his face like he’s just won the lottery. He’s got
that look, the one that says he thinks he’s the smartest guy in the room.
Spoiler alert: he’s not.
He strides over, hand outstretched as if we’re at some fancy gala
instead of a dirty dock. Grigori steps in front of me, a living, breathing “no
trespassing” sign. The smuggler’s hand hangs in the air, and I can’t help but
smirk.
“Let’s skip the pleasantries,” I say, stepping around Grigori. “You’ve
got something for me?”
He nods, motioning toward a nondescript container. It’s all very
cloak and dagger, or in our case, coke and swagger. We walk over, and he
starts rattling off assurances about quality and discretion. I tune him out, my
eyes scanning the area. Trust is a luxury in this business, and I’m more of a
budget shopper.
“Is it all there?” I ask. This is not just a friendly question.
One of my crew, a guy we all call Twitch because of his nervous tic,
steps forward with a clipboard. He’s meticulous, a trait that’s saved our
asses more than once. He starts counting, ticking off numbers under his
breath, moving from crate to crate with a practiced eye.
The smuggler watches Twitch, trying to mask his nervousness with
a grin that looks more like a grimace. “Everything’s accounted for, I assure
you.”
But when Twitch finishes, he walks over with a shake of his head.
“We’re short,” he mutters, just loud enough for the smuggler to hear.
“Seems you’re trying to shortchange us,” I say, my voice calm but
cold. The smuggler’s eyes flicker with panic, then defiance.
“I… There must be some mistake,” he stammers, but the confidence
has drained from his voice.
“No mistake,” I snap back, stepping closer. “And since you’re not
delivering as promised, we’re adjusting the payment.”
The smuggler’s face falls, the reality of his situation becoming
painfully clear. “But I—”
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