Filthy Marcellos Series by Bethany Kris – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Filthy Marcellos Series by Bethany Kris – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Mon, 03 Oct 2022 09:03:37 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Filthy Marcellos Series by Bethany Kris – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Outtakes Vol 1 – The Russian Guns (Filthy Marcellos #1) Read Online Bethany Kris http://www.books2020.com/outtakes-vol-1-the-russian-guns-filthy-marcellos-1-read-online-bethany-kris Mon, 03 Oct 2022 08:16:17 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/outtakes-vol-1-the-russian-guns-filthy-marcellos-1-read-online-bethany-kris Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Mafia, Romance Authors: Bethany Kris Series: Filthy Marcellos Series by Bethany Kris
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Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)

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From author Bethany-Kris to her readers, nearly a decade after the release of The Arrangement, she brings back your favorites in Outtakes Vol 1: The Russian Guns. take a trip back into the world of Anton and Viviana Avdonin before, during, and after the events of their arrangement. Watch their children grow, and even their children’s children.

The Russian Guns series should be read first.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

White Sand, Black Beauty

Foreword: White Sand, Black Beauty was done by request of quite a few readers who wanted to see more of that “first time” from the flashback in The Arrangement. So, you’re going to find a sixteen-year-old girl doing bad things and an eighteen-year-old boy who encourages her to do it.

*

“Anton?”

“Hmm?”

“How did you fall in love with me?” Viviana asked.

Anton looked up over the edge of magazine he was reading. Viviana sat on the rocking chair in the corner, her hand ghosting over the five-month pregnancy bump shaping her stomach round. They’d found out earlier in the day that they were having a boy. The baby hadn’t cooperated the last two ultrasounds, but they finally caught him this time.

Viviana still couldn’t pick a name.

“Anton?” she asked again.

“Instantly,” he said quietly. “Like I was gasoline soaking into the sand and you were a match. Smoke, that’s all that was left the second I saw your eyes.”

“Some people think that kind of love doesn’t exist.”

“Some people aren’t us, baby.”

Viviana smiled. “True.”

He adored that when she was sad about something, she could still smile her way through. He also hated it that she was sad about something and talking her way around whatever it was.

“Vine?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“My first instinct today after we knew the gender was to call my parents and tell them,” Viviana admitted softly. “It took me an entire ten seconds to realize they wouldn’t pick up that call. I know because I watched the clock on the wall. And you were standing right next to me, but I just ... felt like I was standing there by their graves again, looking at the filled in spaces, so alone.”

Anton cleared his throat, sitting straighter in the bed. “Actually, you were sitting ... both times.”

Viviana’s head snapped up, her gaze meeting his with unshed tears welling. “What?”

“When you buried your parents, after everyone was gone and you were the only one left, you sat beside their graves. You didn’t stand.”

“How do you know that?”

“You were never alone, Vine.”

Not since the moment he met her, anyway.

Anton Avdonin fell in love with a girl on a white sand beach.

She was beautiful. A dark-haired, brown-eyed paradise and nothing like who he thought she would be. An angel. Too innocent to know better. Kind of perfect. But he knew, behind that innocent face, was a blackened beauty waiting to show.

Even if her beauty was blackened by him.

After all, she said yes.

*

If it were possible, Anton would have sunk as deep as he could manage into the leather backseat of the rental car to avoid the heavy, piercing stare of his step-grandfather. Nicoli Avdonin was watching him through the rear-view mirror from his spot in the driver’s seat, silent and stoic. There were a million and one things the older man was saying with his gaze.

It was kind of fucking sickening how a simple look could chastise an eighteen-year-old without even saying a word.

“I expect you to act like the respectful, charming young man your mother and father raised you to be on this trip, Anton,” Nicoli finally said, breaking the silence. “This is your last chance to clean up and figure out what you need, my boy. I suggest you take the time to do so.”

Anton scowled at the window. Things weren’t as out of control in his life as people were making it out to be. What difference did it make if he liked dabbling in ecstasy and blow once in a while? His family fucking sold it for profit, for Christ’s sake. So he’d gotten into some shit with a bull for the Bratva. Big fucking deal. Sprained his wrist while he busted up his knuckles on the idiot’s face for running his mouth.

Wincing, Anton was also reminded on the bullet he took that lodged in his shoulder. There was that, too. Sasha dug it out, at least.

“So my punishment is a vacation to Barbados?” Anton asked sarcastically. “What, clear my head while I lay on white sand and see how many girls I can fuck in—”

“Anton Daniil, I swear to God,” Nicoli snapped, frustration lacing his tone thick. “Not every woman needs to be a conquest for you to conquer. If you’d have a little respect for women, the results might surprise you.”

Anton snorted under his breath. “Right. Listen, if they’d have more respect for themselves, I’d show them respect back.”

As of now, Anton was just fine and fucking dandy with going about his exploits the way he wanted to. Fucking when he felt the need and dropping them before they turned clingy.

“They’re all willing,” Anton added quieter. “It’s not like I’m forcing anybody, Grandpapa. You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not a fucking monster.”

Just learning to be, he thought wirily.

He was the prince, after all. The sole heir to a crime dynasty. And as of a month ago, he was officially a Vor. A made man for his Bratva family. Finally beginning to fill the shoes everyone around him wanted him to. The path to his future as the boss was paved with guns, drugs, and blood.

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Advertisement Outtakes Vol 2 – The Commission World (Filthy Marcellos #2) Read Online Bethany Kris http://www.books2020.com/outtakes-vol-2-the-commission-world-filthy-marcellos-2-read-online-bethany-kris Mon, 03 Oct 2022 08:16:17 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/outtakes-vol-2-the-commission-world-filthy-marcellos-2-read-online-bethany-kris Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Mafia, Romance Authors: Bethany Kris Series: Filthy Marcellos Series by Bethany Kris
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Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)

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Featuring stories from readers favorite characters from author Bethany-Kris’ Commission World, Outtakes Vol 2: The Commission World takes readers to before the filthiest Marcello took his throne and far beyond … to the next generations.

Made up of outtakes and short stories written for and by request of readers, the collection contains over 170,000 words and over 100 shorts.
Readers should be familiar with The Commission World to best enjoy.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

MARCELLO

ANTONY OUTTAKES

Fathers Day of ‘93

Antony/John POV

“Shut up, Gio!”

“Knucle John says—”

“Shut up.”

Antony cracked his eyes open just enough to stare at the ceiling of his bedroom. He didn’t know if his sons were just waking up and trying to sneak past their parents’ bedrooms, or what was happening. All he knew was that once Gio learned to start talking around two years old, the kid never shut up.

Oh, God.

He loved his son.

So much.

Both his boys, really.

But Gio incessantly talked all the time. It never ended. He could talk for an hour about a certain flavor of ice cream if someone didn’t rein the kid in before he really got going. He liked to talk, and it was impossible for the boy to do anything without talking while he did it. Which made things like playing Hide and Go Seek with his brother impossible because ...

Gio never shut up.

“Papa, you up?”

In his bedroom, then. He didn’t answer Dante back right away because a part of his brain was still asleep, and he was trying to figure out why he felt like he’d just slept twelve hours. A good sleep, yes, but a long one.

That was unusual for Antony. He rarely felt this rested when he woke up. He was typically the one in their house who was up at the ass crack of dawn because work never ended as a made man. If it wasn’t one thing, then it was another.

Antony looked over in the bed to tell his wife the boys were up, but he found an empty bed staring back at him. He blinked at the spot where his wife should have been, but quickly realized something else.

The window.

And the sun.

The sun was way too high in the sky for it to be early morning. Antony darted up in the bed, and instantly reached for the alarm clock on the nightstand to check the time. Ten-fifty-five, it read.

In the morning?

“Hi, Papa!”

Antony didn’t even get to wonder why he’d slept so long or where in the hell his wife was because the next thing he knew, Gio had climbed up on the four poster bed, and launched himself from the footboard right onto his father’s lap.

And almost hit the family jewels in the process.

“Jesus Christ,” Antony grunted, laughing under his breath.

Wiggly little three-year-old Gio rolled to his back, and beamed up at his father with a bright smile that could light up anybody’s fucking life. How a person could be sad when there was a kid like Gio around, Antony would never understand.

“Ma says—”

“Not to be a shit,” Gio interrupted.

Antony pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. He was not supposed to encourage the cussing, but he found it really hard. Especially when the kid used it in the correct terms.

“She did not say shit,” Dante grumbled.

His oldest son climbed up on the bed, too, but unlike Gio, his first move was not to act like a bird that could fly across the bed and land on his father. He did get close enough to let Antony pull him into a hug.

“Where is your Ma?” Antony asked.

“Cooking,” Dante said. “Waffles—your favorite.”

Antony smiled. “Oh?”

For a moment, Antony reclined on the bed with his two boys. Dante on his right, and Gio in his lap because he couldn’t convince that kid to do anything else. Once he got his mind set on something, that’s all that would be happening.

It wasn’t very often Antony got to have moments like these. Quiet, peaceful moments first thing in the morning with his two principes because life liked to get in the way all the damn time. So, he soaked it up.

Late morning sun, white sheets, and two little boys who kept looking at him like he was king of the whole world. Someday, they’d figure out he was just a man. And not a very moral or good one at that, but a man nonetheless. Their father ... but for now, he enjoyed being the very large sun in their small world.

“And she said I don’t have to go to school,” five-year-old Dante pointed out. “Because it’s a special day.”

Antony glanced at his son from the side. “Is it?”

Fuck.

Antony’s mind scrambled to figure out what day it was. Not his anniversary, and not his wife’s birthday. Not one of the kids’, either. Not somebody important. No holidays, he was sure.

What had he missed?

“Yep,” Dante said, pushing himself off the bed using two hands. “For you, Papa. Happy Father’s Day.”

Gio flipped himself over in Antony’s lap and beamed up. “Happy Father’s Day!”

“Breakfast is ready.”

Antony found the owner of the sweet voice standing in the bedroom doorway. His wife, already dressed and ready for the day, looked like she had a secret to share. He loved her best when she looked like that. His greatest memories were pulling those secrets from his wife in a way only he could do, too.

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