Wicked Games (Ashby Crime Family #4) Read Online KB Winters

Categories Genre: Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: Ashby Crime Family Series by KB Winters
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
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“Goddammit, Kat,” he growled and pushed her away with a laugh.

“Kidding,” she said and took her seat. “I don’t want to make you jealous, Jas. But thanks for not being a dickhead about it. Anymore.”

Terry took his usual seat beside Jasper and whispered a word of thanks, which Jas accepted and clapped Terry on the back.

“Since I’m being not a dickhead, I think it’s time we make some changes.” He stood and grabbed his recently refilled glass of wine and took the seat that had remained empty for the past twenty odd years, at the other end of the table.

A collective gasp went up around the table from my brothers and Kat as Jasper strode toward the chair once occupied by our father. He sank into the seat we’d honored every Sunday dinner by setting a place though it remained empty as tribute to the man who once headed this family.

By that move, Jasper officially announced his position as the head of all that Ashby surveyed and pointed to his just vacated place beside Sadie.

“Take it, Terry,” he said, his voice and presence indicating his authority. “That seat is yours now, brother.”

Sadie raised her glass in the air with a smile. “It’s about damn time,” she said, her gaze bounding from Kat to Jasper and finally landing on Terry. “For all of you. Now, let’s eat and talk business.”

This was usually the part of dinner where I tuned out and focused on the platters piled high with delicious food and the endless supply of top-shelf alcohol. But lately, I was more invested in learning as much as I could about Ashby’s enemies since knowing them could mean the difference between life and death. So I shoveled roast, carrots, and potatoes in my mouth while looking mildly uninterested.

Jasper’s words meant more to me now that he’d taken over his father’s spot, technically Sadie’s former spot, at the foot of the table. “Still no word about Savannah Rhymer,” he growled.

“Mueller is laying low,” Kat said, “but his friends are still staying in one of the suites.”

“Any word on Molly?” Madison mostly—and wisely—stayed silent during talk of Ashby's business, other than to ask about her missing sister.

Guilt flashed in Kat’s eyes and she shook her head. “Nothing yet, but that means she hasn’t turned up at a morgue either.” Kat was definitely hiding something but Madison didn’t seem to realize it. “Oh, and I spotted a certain redheaded Fed snooping around Emerald Isle.”

Sadie and Jasper sat up straighter simultaneously. “What?” I couldn’t say who actually asked the question since they both spoke simultaneously.

“She didn’t question anyone, just sat in the lobby and observed who came and who went. Poor idiot doesn’t realize she’s barking up the wrong tree.”

Emerald Isle was the crowning achievement of legit Ashby businesses and they would never destroy it by mixing it in with their other businesses.

“I wouldn’t mind if Jas put a few guys on to watch her, though.”

“Done,” he said easily, nostrils flaring in anger. “She’s the last fucking thing we need to worry about with Brendan trying to make a name for himself away from the old man.”

And so went Sunday dinner, an odd mix of loving family, ruthless business and wisecracks. It was the one time of the week I let myself relax and be surrounded by people who—whether they’d admit it or not—cared about me.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

CHAPTER TWO

Vanessa

I should’ve accepted Kat’s invitation to dinner.

It was about the thirtieth time I’d had that thought today. I puttered around the enormous, five-bedroom house that my late husband Lance had insisted on buying for us, trying to take my mind off my loneliness.

Lance bought the house back when we planned for a big family. And then he was killed before we ever got a chance to start on our dreams. Without him, hell, even with him, this house was too big. It was too much house for two people. For one person, it was just pitiful.

So many rooms in the house sat completely empty with no furniture or décor because I was too exhausted, too depressed, too over it to do anything about those rooms. They weren’t going to be nurseries, not for a long time, if ever, so why bother with them? As for the guest rooms, how many did I need for a family who never came to visit?

My parents insisted they couldn’t cross the threshold of my home because I lived in ‘Sin City.’ They had no desire to get on the wrong side of the Lord, but it was more than that. They’d never forgiven me for leaving our small Missouri town, for wanting more out of life. For wanting a bigger life than Moose Hook, Missouri, had to offer.

I sighed and went to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine from the fridge. I deserved it. It had been one hell of a day.


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