Omerta Law Series by M.N. Forgy – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Sun, 25 Oct 2020 15:11:37 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Omerta Law Series by M.N. Forgy – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Beautiful Thief (Omerta Law #2) Read Online M.N. Forgy http://www.books2020.com/beautiful-thief-omerta-law-2-read-online-m-n-forgy Sun, 25 Oct 2020 15:06:40 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/beautiful-thief-omerta-law-2-read-online-m-n-forgy Categories Genre: Crime, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Omerta Law Series by M.N. Forgy
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Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 59448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Beautiful Thief (Omerta Law #2)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

M.N. Forgy
Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B08CRKH94Y
Book Information:

My name may be Romeo, but I’m far from romantic. My brother betrayed the family, forcing me into the role of underboss beneath the criminal mastermind that is our father.
I’ve never been a merciless criminal, and my father tests my resolve by giving me a stolen woman, knowing the situation disturbs me. What he doesn’t know is the disheveled beauty intrigues me.
She tried to kill me with my own gun on the first night, pushing my fixation into a dangerous addiction.
She’s unknowingly teaching me the power I have, and now I’m going to take over my father’s empire.
It’s a cold dark path to the top and I’m finally ready to lead the way.
Books in Series:

Omerta Law Series by M.N. Forgy
Books by Author:

M.N. Forgy


“These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder

Which, as they kiss, consume”

― William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

Prologue

Romeo

Age Ten

Waking up cold, I notice my head hurts, and so does my leg. I blink a few times, the lights from above hazy and not helping the drum banging inside my skull. Using my hands to push to sitting up, I notice I can’t move them. Looking down, I’m in one of those straitjacket things, and my shorts are gone and replaced with a pair of white scrubs. My heart begins to beat so hard in my chest it feels like it’s lodged in my throat. Using my shoulders, I try to inch my arms down in an attempt to get out of the jacket. My body temperature rises with my failed attempt, and I suddenly feel sad, but still angry. How could my father let this happen to me?

Sliding off the bed, the cold black and white tile beneath my feet, I look to the door that is open, everything slowly coming back to me.

Sitting in the far back of the class, I’m slouched back, tapping the head of a pencil on the scratched up desk. The lights right above my head are bright, giving me a headache. The hard blue plastic chair is uncomfortable. I fidget in my seat, noticing the shirt clinging to my skin. I’m sweating for some reason, and my legs feel restless. The heel of my black Nikes have constantly tapped the tiled floor since class started over an hour ago. I’m off today, angry and annoyed. Pissed that I have to be here. I tried to stay home, but my mother wouldn’t have it. She made me go, which made me want to lash out even more. Father has suggested that my brother and I stay home multiple times because it’d be safer for us, but my mother refuses to acknowledge that the crime my father runs is as cold as the victims he’s subdued.

“Romeo, why don’t you read the next paragraph?” Mrs. Honey asked. My eyes peek through my eyelashes, my jaw tightens as everyone turns in their seat to look at me. Mrs. Honey. The sweet teacher that wears long flower dresses and has the hair color of actual honey. She should be teaching kindergarteners, not fifth graders.

“Pass,” I grumbled under my breath. I hate reading to the class and she knows this. I wish she’d just leave me alone today. I don’t want to be bothered.

“No, give it a try,” she pushes, and the unusual feeling I had inside of me since I woke up this morning breeds into something hostile and monstrous. Casen and Gunther laugh to themselves from the other side of the class and my eyes snap to them, both of them side-eyeing me. The cool kids, at least they think they are. Both with shaved heads, with band name t-shirts and ripped jeans. They’re just bullies and dumb fucks. Someone needs to show that Casen he’s not as tough as he thinks he is.

Sitting forward, I sigh heavily and flip the textbook open.

“Page 356, Taming the shrew,” Mrs. Honey instructs.

Swallowing the dryness suddenly in the back of my throat, the small black words seem like a lot, and are intimidating. My feet tap harder and faster, and I run my nails across the back of my neck nervously. I can read, but I do struggle with bigger words, and I hate reading out loud like this in class.

“Sit- sit by my side, and let the world… let the world slip…” My words fade, and I wipe my forehead of a sudden sweat. I’m screwing this up. I can feel all eyes on me, and I wish the book would just eat me whole. Why is it so damn hot in here?

“Keep going,” Mrs. Honey instructs with that sweet as candy voice.

“He can’t read, he’s stupid, teach’!” Casen shouts, the entire class erupting into laughter. I shove my book off the desk and look to him.

“Fuck you!” I snarl and stand from my seat.

“You wanna go, rich kid?”

“Whoa! No, both of you take your seats!” The teacher raises her hands, her head popping between me and Casen.

Not listening, I push through the desks and forcefully wrap my arm around his neck, he grunts, and I tighten my hold. Pulling him down, I punch him in the mouth with my other hand and Mrs. Honey lets out a scream when blood splatters to the class floor.

Casen cries out with pain, his arms flailing to reach me. Letting go of him, I let him get to his feet and then I shove him into a bunch of desks watching him tumble and fall across the floor like the weak little bitch that he is. Mrs. Honey hurries to separate us, blocking me from coming at him again.


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Beautiful Criminal Read online M.N. Forgy (Omerta Law #1) http://www.books2020.com/beautiful-criminal-1-read-online-m-n-forgy Sun, 15 Mar 2020 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/beautiful-criminal-1-read-online-m-n-forgy Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Omerta Law Series by M.N. Forgy
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Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

(Omerta Law #1) Beautiful Criminal

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

M.N. Forgy
Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B08921MLH8
Book Information:

As the son of the infamous boss of the DeAngelo family, I have merciless duties expected of me. The public labels me a monster, a man without a soul, and one hated by many.
They’re not wrong, and I’m not sorry for it. When my father orders me to marry a longtime enemy’s daughter to settle a score between our families, she did what any smart woman with a beating heart would do.
She ran. So, I found her. She tries to negotiate for her freedom, but despite being inexplicably drawn to the deviant woman, I refuse her pitiful bribes with pleasure.
I still have a job to do, and I’ll make her tell me her family’s secrets, turning a treacherous situation into a game of hatred.
A code of silence will be broken.
Lines will be crossed. I’ll promise her freedom to get the answers I need, but I’ll burn this city to the ground before I let her go.
Books in Series:

Omerta Law Series by M.N. Forgy
Books by Author:

M.N. Forgy


Prologue

Fifteen Years Earlier

Age Ten

Kieran

My small hands grip the splintered shovel handle a little tighter as I drive the head into the damp dirt. My palms are sweaty, making it harder to hold on to the tool causing it to tire me out. A grunt presses from my chest as I try to shake the soil loose and toss the crumbles up onto the ground which is now well above my head. Standing up straight, I barely see my dad who’s sitting on the bumper of our car, headlights blinding me in the midst of the dark night. My eyes shift to the bloody sheets wrapped around what looks like a body lying on the ground next to the grave I’m digging.

“Who is this guy anyway?” I ask out of breath. I’m not afraid or scared of what’s happening. I know if this guy is dead, it’s because he’s a bad guy. I know this guy being dead, he brought it on himself. My father always says, “I only hurt those that karma missed. Respect is earned and so is the calling of the Reaper.” Besides, fear isn’t a part of the life I’m built to lead.

Dad gives me a pointed look before removing the cigar from in between his lips. His suit without a wrinkle, and shoes without a speck of dirt, he is put together like this is another day at the office. I always look anywhere but in his eyes, because when I see those dark brown irises, it makes my stomach do weird things. The feeling reminds me of when I’m about to do something real dangerous and my stomach gets this sick feeling as if it’s a warning.

“Why’s it gotta be a guy, maybe it’s a woman?” he grumbles, pointing the cherry lit end of this cigar at me. “Just keep digging. Yeah?”

Shaking my head, I wipe my forehead of the sweat dripping in my eyes only to end up smudging dirt across my face. I huff and keep scraping the hard earth free of its dirt, but my eyes keep drifting to the body. It doesn’t look like it has boobs like a woman would, it has to be a man. I don’t dare ask a second time. If my father felt like sharing, he would have. No, I know enough to know it’s time to keep my head down and do the task at hand.

A foot steps onto the body, rolling it out of my sight.

Catching me staring at the dead person, my father yells, “I said keep diggin’!”

I do as I’m told, but I can’t help but notice him. I see my brother sitting in the passenger seat hunched over, puke caking the front of his new shirt mom just bought. His dark hair is matted down with sweat, and his face is pale. I want to climb out of the hole and check on him, but that would really piss our pops off. Dad had him down here helping me, but Romeo couldn’t handle the smell or the sight of blood and puked all over himself. Dad ripped him away from me and shoved him toward the car, cursing at him in Italian.

The smell or sight of the body doesn’t bother me, I don’t know why it doesn’t.

It just doesn’t.

I’m more curious than anything. The questions swirl in my mind rather than fear about the lifeless body in front of me. I want to know who it is. I want to pull back the sheet and see if he was shot or beat to death. Is he all bloody? In my mind, I run over the many things he could have done wrong to earn his death.

That’s the difference between me and Romeo, he’s got a heart and I, well, I guess I don’t. He’ll see a bird fall from a nest in Central Park and take it home to nurse it back to health. I’d be more intrigued if I could climb the tree the bird fell out of, leaving the bird to fend for itself. If it’s out of the nest the mom probably pushed it out knowing it was a weakling or sick. It’s the circle of life. If it can’t survive now, it won’t ever.

“That’s enough, Kieran, climb out,” Dad interrupts my thoughts.

I drop the shovel, out of breath. “Thank God,” I mutter. I flex my sore fingers, noticing a blister coming on between my thumb and index finger. I rub at it.

“Get the damn shovel!” Dad sneers, almost making me jump. I grab the tool and toss it out of the grave and then using both hands, I push up and grab onto the earth that is still intact to climb out. Managing to get mud and dirt all over me, including inside my shoes, I finally make it out.


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