Death (Mafia Empire #3) Read Online Michelle Heard

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Insta-Love, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Mafia Empire Series by Michelle Heard
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
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Seeing a new request for extraction, I check the details. It’s in Ireland. A man is looking for safe passage for his family, who are being targeted by the Irish mafia.

Moving an entire family of four takes much more work than extracting a single person, which means I’ll have to postpone attacking the sex club in Bolivia.

I let out a sigh as I keep reading the details provided by Mr. Allen Gleesan.

Bringing up Pedro’s number, I press dial, and he answers on the third ring, “What’s up?”

“Forget about Bolivia. We have a job in Ireland. Get two private jets ready. One for us and one for the extraction to Switzerland.”

“On it.”

“Manuel has to come with so he can create new identities for them.”

“I’ll let him know.”

Ending the call, I go back into the app and accept the job, typing out a brief message.

Accept. $750000 to be paid within the next 24 hours and the other $750000 on completion of the job.

After sending the reply, I set the phone on the table beside me and look down at Thiago. “I’m glad you’re getting in some sleep, little guy. All that crying must’ve tired you out.”

I gently brush my hand up and down his back and take a deep breath of his baby smell, which is downright addictive.

Chapter 7

SANTIAGO

When we pull up to the safe house in Ireland, I climb out of the SUV and glance over the green, rolling hills.

Fuck, it’s beautiful out here.

I wish I could stay longer than three days, but as soon as we’re done extracting the Gleeson family, we have to get back to Peru so I can plan the attack on the sex club in Bolivia.

“I’ll have Manuel set up everything in one of the bedrooms,” Pedro says before walking to the front door.

Shoving my hands into the pockets of my suit pants, I keep staring at the picturesque landscape. We’re out in the country, so we don’t draw unnecessary attention to ourselves. Plus, it’s close to the private airfield where the jets are waiting.

Half my men are guarding the planes, while I have a dozen here at the safehouse with me.

“Everything is clear around the property,” Pedro calls out. “Are you coming in?”

Glancing at my second-in-command, I shake my head. “Bring a chair out so I can sit and enjoy the peace and quiet of the country.”

“Stay with Santiago,” Pedro orders four of the guards. “You don’t let him out of your sight.”

“So overprotective,” I mutter, letting out a chuckle as I turn my attention back to the scenic view.

In the far distance, I see a grouping of trees and something glinting in the afternoon sun. When I start to walk toward it, I hear the guards behind me.

“Where are you going?” Pedro shouts.

Not looking back, I reply, “For a walk.”

Even though it’s summer in the Northern Hemisphere, it’s not much warmer than Peru right now. I don’t like freezing temperatures, but rather prefer mild to hot days.

Walking at a leisurely pace, I enjoy the peaceful feel of the area, my eyes feasting on the fields and hills. To my left, I notice the road we took to get to the safe house.

When I get close to the trees, I can make out a house peeking through between the trunks. I stop walking when I see a man getting out of a car. He begins to cough and sounds bad. I watch as he leans against the vehicle until he’s able to catch his breath before he walks toward the front door.

Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I quickly turn around and head back to the safe house.

Walking inside, I find Pedro in the living room, and I wait until he’s done communicating with the guards at the airfield.

“Everything okay?” I ask as I take a seat.

He nods. “Did you enjoy the walk?”

“Yeah. Have one of the men keep an eye on our neighbor in the house hidden behind the trees. The man looks like he has the flu, so I don’t think we’ll get any trouble from him.”

“I’ll have Jorge do random checks,” Pedro says before using the two-way radio to contact the guard.

I check the time on my wristwatch, then let out a sigh. “If everything goes okay, the Gleesons should be here at ten pm,” I mutter. “Is there food in the kitchen?”

Pedro rubs his fingers over his jaw, “Maybe some two-minute noodles and water. We haven’t used this safe house in a while.”

My top lip curls up at the side in disgust, and I decide I can hold out until we’re back on the plane before I eat something.

With nothing better to do, I stare at Pedro, who’s two years younger than me. Noticing the gray strands in his black hair, I chuckle. “You’re getting gray before me.”

“It’s because of you,” he mutters.


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