Billionaire's Seduction: BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE (Alpha Billionaire Romance Collection) (BBW Pregnancy Marriage of Convenience) by Betsy Poole Read Free Book Online

knew what I was getting into when I asked for the marked and placed the bet, and chances are I wouldn’t do anything differently even if I knew the outcome because that’s just how I’m wired.
    Pablo felt pretty bad about the whole situation and said he would help me pay it back, which is help I readily accepted. But it was only a couple of grand a month, and my two debts to junior would be combined together and the interest from my existing debt would be applied to the new chunk of cash that I owed, so two grand wasn’t going to put much of dent on the monthly vig. I was screwed, plain and simple, so I did what I do best, I went on a bender before Junior found out about the new wad.
    It took only three days for him to find out, and it was an epic three days on my end. I started drinking at the cockfights and then barhopped until my pockets were turned inside out. After that, I charmed my way into drinks and into the panties of a few of the women who were kind enough to front my bar tab. It was a wonderful, slightly mind blowing good time. But then Junior sent his muscle to track me down and bring him back to his office to make an offer to me that I wouldn’t be able to say no to.
    And his offer was this: I belonged to him for the next two years. I could still do PI work and pay into the debt if I wanted (Of course I would need the money from PI work to keep a roof over my head, so you can bet your ass I wasn’t giving a dime of it Junior), but I could consider myself a full time employee of the Vecchio family. Whatever they needed to have done, I would do it. For the next two years, I was going to become a full fledged, honest-to-God gangster.  The three generations of cop in me turned my blood to acid.

To be honest with you, though, I kind of took to the work. You know that line from Goodfellas about how gangsters are just cops for wise guys? Well, it’s actually a true statement.
    Gangsters pretty much only deal with scumbags, and I mean real scumbags, not the kind the police have to deal with. When you’re a gangster, you don’t have to deal with belligerent drunks, or domestic disturbances, or pedophiles or any of that sicko stuff. I mean, you do, but you don’t. Gangsters are far more single minded in focus when it comes to dealing with degenerates. The long and the short of it is, gangsters don’t care about what you do in your private life, because they only want their money. As long as you have their dough, you can be married to seven goats and shoot up drano into your eyeballs for all they care. They just want the cash, but if you don’t have it, well, they’re going to do some damage. They’re going to kill all of your goats and they’re going to make sure you don’t get your hands on another drop of Drano until you pay up.
    I worked almost exclusively as muscle in Junior’s organization. When you’re muscle, it’s kind of a catch all position. You collect money from drop off points, you collect from various pimps and dope dealers who are on the payroll, same with the various games the boss had going on across the city. There was even a few times when I collected from Pablo’s cockfight.
    The other part of the position was being actual muscle. Along with my pick ups, it was my job to get mean if somebody was short, and get really mean when they didn’t have any cash at all. If that happened more than once, I was under orders to put whoever stiffed in the hospital. Unfortunately, this happened quite a bit. I always had help, Junior had a seemingly endless supply of faceless gorillas who went with me on my runs, and if things got nasty, they broke bones and crushed teeth right alongside me. The only difference was is the goons seemed to enjoy it a lot more. Okay, I’ll admit I kind of enjoyed it, too. Remember, gangsters deal with the scum of the earth, so every person I kicked the crap out of, I knew they had it coming. But once in a while, I run across a guy just like me. Someone who liked to