Kidnapped by My Dad’s Best Friend Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
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“Boss.”

I look up to find Dorman and two other guards standing nearby, ready to obey my commands. If I told them, Take her to her room, would they do it? That would leave me with the problem of watching another man touch my woman. The beast would come out, a blind rage gripping me as I taught these men—my men—a lesson.

“Leave us,” I growl.

They turn and walk away immediately.

Bonnie sits up, staring down at me, her eyes glistening, her cheeks red.

“What was your plan?” I say, sitting up.

“To save Dad,” she hisses. “What did you think? I can’t let them have him.”

“You don’t have the money,” I snap. “You don’t know where Enzo is. You were just going to… what, Bonnie? Run back to the city and hope you ran into him?”

She stands abruptly. I stand just as fast, my hands raised, ready to grab her again if I need to.

“Yeah, great. I’m an idiot. Thanks for pointing it out.”

“I never said that. I would never say that.”

“The kidnapper with a heart of gold.”

I hate you, bounces around my mind, her words from this morning.

“Your hands…” I step forward, relieved when she lets me gently take her wrists. She’s got small cuts on her palms. “Did you really climb down that trellis?”

“Yeah, it was difficult.” She stares up at me, eyes still shining, but she’s holding back her tears. “I’d do much worse to keep Dad safe.”

“Oh, Bonnie.”

I hug her, wondering if she’s going to push me away, but she lets me hold her, and even slides her hands around my body, gripping onto my back. I rock her gently, leaning down and pressing my face against the top of her head, inhaling her scent.

“You know I can’t let you leave. Enzo’s the sort of man to do evil things to you for some sort of sick revenge. I’d die. I’d kill before I let that happen.”

“I just want Dad to be okay. Let me help.”

“I have to keep you safe.”

She gazes up at me. “You can’t make that decision for me. He’s my dad. If you care about me, you’ll let me help. You’ll listen to what I want. I know this started with me as your prisoner… but there’s something else here, isn’t there? Or am I crazy?”

“No,” I say, a weak reply if there ever was one.

I could tell her that there’s more than something happening. It’s everything. It’s the entire world. It’s need and fate and love—yes, love—growing between us.

“I’m taking you back into the estate.”

“What if I fought you?” she says. “Would you restrain me?”

I swallow, tension gripping me like a giant hand crushing my ribcage.

“Don’t worry,” she sighs. “I won’t force you to do that. You’re a criminal, after all. Who knows what you’d do to me?”

“Bonnie, I’d never hurt you,” I growl.

“But that’s part of your job, isn’t it? Hurting people?”

“Only people who deserve it.”

“So, you’re a gang boss with a moral code?”

“Yes,” I say firmly, ignoring her sarcasm. “I am. Come back to the estate. I’ll explain what we’re doing to find your dad.”

“And when you find him, you’ll let me help. You won’t force me to stand by and just hope you save him.”

I should tell her no. I should remember the man I was before she turned up for the interview before she cracked open my cold heart and gave me a preview of the life I could live.

“You’ll let me come?” she asks, moving closer, staring up at me. “You know why I need to do this. You know it’s because you risked everything to avenge Mom. You started a war for her.”

“I can’t imagine losing you,” I whisper.

She steps close. “This isn’t your decision to make unless you’re really going to keep me prisoner. Unless what I want doesn’t matter to you at all.”

“You’re too clever for me,” I say, sighing. “If I’m certain I can keep you safe, you can come.”

As she smiles, I wonder if I’ve just made the worst mistake of my life.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Bonnie

We sit in the garden, the sunny weather clashing with the darkness inside of me.

As I watch Archie running around, rolling in the grass, and grinning happily, I find myself able to relax the tiniest bit. Guilt grips me the second I feel this, the calm I don’t deserve, not when Dad could be suffering through hell.

Blake sips his coffee, his forearms tense. My hands twitch as though urging me to grab them, to feel him, to feel his power.

He smirks.

“What?” I say, returning his smile somehow.

“I’m trying to work out if you’re a spy.”

“A spy?” Amazingly, I laugh, and then I quickly kill the laughter. I don’t deserve it. “What makes you say that?”

“I don’t want you thinking of me as a bad person,” he says gruffly.

His hand is resting on the table. I reach over and touch it, the heat activating inside of me. It’s instant every time we touch, as though with our warmth and our spark alone, we can block out everything else. He turns his hand over and interlocks his fingers with mine.


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