A Cruel Arrangement (Kings of New York #2) Read Online Tijan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: Kings of New York Series by Tijan
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Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
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I moved into her space.

Her eyes went wide, but I moved us both back against the wall. I placed an arm on one side of her, next to her head, and leaned in. “Your father is still in jail.”

She pursed her lips together, her throat moving up and down. “I’m aware.” She was focusing on my chest, and her hand started to reach out, to touch me.

Yes. I wanted that. I wasn’t questioning it. And if I was here, I was going to be touching her. I decided then and there. I leaned in even closer, but she pulled her hand back.

I frowned at that. “Why have you not bailed him out?”

She shrugged, biting her lip. “I mean, jail seems like the best option for him, don’t you think? He can sit there and rot, forever.”

“We have a deal.”

Her jaw clenched, and she tipped her head up now.

There. Right there. I liked having her eyes on me. “You’re being stubborn.”

Her chin lifted.

Madre de Dios. I tried again, moving my head down a little closer. “Your father can’t find out who killed Justin and Kelly if he is still in jail. Post his bail.”

Her eyes flashed at me, defiant. “He deserves to sit in there and his insides rot out of him and mold with his cell and—” Her hand went to my chest. She held it there. I didn’t know if she was aware that she was touching me.

I pressed harder against her hand. “Bail him out or you’re never getting Easter Lanes in your name. I don’t get what you’re doing, or not doing. I’m trying to find out who killed your friends. I’m trying to do this for my best friend, for Jess, and then I have a whole war to handle. Bail your father out of jail. Why are you waiting?” My phone was buzzing, and I knew that was Trace or my cousin needing something. I didn’t want to take it. I’d been annoyed that I needed to come back, find out what was going on in her head, but I couldn’t lie to myself. I could’ve called. I could’ve issued a threat or a reminder, but seeing her in person had been what I needed.

I wanted to see her. I wanted . . . I liked these interactions with her.

My phone kept buzzing. The world was pushing in. I had to go. I had to do my duties.

Feeling almost cold, I reached for the door and started to open it.

“I can’t.”

I turned back. “What do you mean?”

She had moved to her desk. She wasn’t looking at me, but her shoulders were down, and she was picking at the pen that she’d used for prodding her papers. “I can’t. I just—if I see him right now, I will kill him. You—he took away the good memories I had of her, and that’s just the latest he’s done to me, that I know of. You can’t—I don’t know your grandfather or your father. I know you had uncles, but I can’t stomach the idea of talking to him. Not yet. It’s too soon.”

Well. Fuck.

I shut the door behind me. “What do you need from me?”

Her eyes flickered, seeing me, and the ends of her mouth curved down. “What do you mean?”

“I need you to ask your father to do something. That means I need you to bail him out, first step. You are blocked from doing that. What can I do to help remove that block so you can stomach the idea of seeing your father?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Beat him up? I don’t know . . .” She looked away.

I frowned, moving closer. “That’d make you feel better? If I beat him up?”

Her head folded down, and she was tapping her pen down onto her desk.

I looked her over, seeing the rigidness. The tension, so I took a moment, one moment, and put myself in her shoes. I considered what I’d told her, what she’d said. Her mother. The truth. Her father. His hand in how he helped to take away her mother.

My gut flickered. “I could have that done. Easily.”

She looked up, her eyes clouded over. The tension still visible on her face, tightening around her mouth.

She didn’t agree, but she didn’t disagree either.

I took another moment, just one, before I said, “I would not judge you if you wanted physical violence against your father. He hurt you. He has continued to hurt you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting some vengeance.”

Her eyes closed, and she flinched.

“I would think there would be something more wrong if you didn’t, if nothing ever happened to someone who took away the kindness of your mother. Her love. Because he tainted that, along with my family.”

Her eyes opened, and there was agony there, briefly, before she snuffed it out.

My voice went flat. I did not like seeing that look there. “One might even insist on it, could be a sort of payment from my family to you. If that’s what you were asking?”


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