Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Warning
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Also by Sapphire
Stay up to date with Sapphire
Bonus
Chapter 1 I Will Find You
Chapter 2 Lasting Impressions
Chapter 3 I Must Forget
Chapter 4 No More Games
By: International Bestselling Author
Sapphire Knight
Gangster
Copyright © 2017 by Sapphire Knight
Cover Design by CT Cover Creations
Editing by Mitzi Carroll
Formatting by Uplifting Designs
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Acknowledgements
My husband - I love you more than words can express. Thank you for the support you’ve shown me.
My boys - You are my whole world. I love you both. This never changes, and you better not be reading these books until you’re thirty and tell yourself your momma did not write them!
My Beta Babes - Sarah Rogers, Lindsay Lupher, Wendi Stacilaucki-Hunsicker, Patti Novia West, Kelly Emery, Tamra Simons, and Jamey Weber. Thank you for all the love you’ve shown me. You’ve all helped me grow tremendously in my writing, and I’m forever grateful. I was seriously freaking out over this book and y’all gave me the reassurance and confidence that I needed to keep trucking on. This wouldn’t be possible without your input and suggestions.
Editor Mitzi Carroll – Your hard work makes mine stand out, and I’m so grateful! Thank you for pouring tons of hours into my passion and being so wonderful to me. One day I’ll meet you and one day I’ll squishy hug you!
Cover Designer- CT Cover Creations, thank you sooo much! I feel like this cover was made specifically for me and I couldn’t be happier. Thank you tons for your continued support and friendship.
Formatter Alyssa Garcia – Thank you for making my work look professional and beautiful. I truly appreciate it.
Sapphire’s Naughty Princesses – You ladies are brilliant; thank you for everything that you do to help promote my work and for all your support and encouragement. Some days it’s one of you that keeps me writing my next book, excited to bring you a small escape in this world. Thank you for giving me a piece of your heart—I adore you!
My Blogger Friends –YOU ARE AMAZING! I LOVE YOU! No really, I do!!! You take a new chance on me with each book and in return share my passion with the world. You never truly get enough credit, and I’m forever grateful!
My Readers – I love you. You make my life possible, thank you.
Dedication
To everyone out there who’s working their asses off, every single day to become a better person.
Not all of our pasts are perfect; some of us are tainted and strive every day to overcome our personal obstacles.
Look in the mirror and repeat after me; You Fucking Rock.
WARNING
This novel includes graphic language and adult situations. It may be offensive to some readers and includes situations that may be hotspots for certain individuals. This book is intended for ages 18 and older due to some steamy spots. This work is fictional. The story is meant to entertain the reader and may not always be completely accurate. Any reproduction of these works without Author Sapphire Knight’s written consent is pirating and will be punished to the fullest extent of the law.
A fish with his mouth closed,never gets caught.
- Tony Accardo
I snort a little watching Kaleigh cough after she downs her shot of tequila. She doesn’t drink much, especially at lunchtime, but I dared her and she went for it. Exactly why she’s my best friend; she lets me corrupt her just a smidge to keep me entertained, and in return, she lives a life that’s slightly more exciting than one without me in it.
“That was gross.” Her nose scrunches, making my mouth turn up in an amused grin.
We’re in our usual lunch spot—Moricio’s Italian Cuisine. It’s not too fancy and small, but they make food quick enough to eat for a lunch break and it tastes fantastic.
“It’s not bad after you have three or so.”
“No way. You said one.”
“I know. You have to work and I’m not going to carry you back to your cubicle.”
“Gee thanks, you’re so thoughtful.”
“Hey, the burn from the tequila will keep you warm on the walk back. You’ll be thanking me later.”
“If I’m not puking,” she mumbles, sipping her Coke to chase the tingle the tequila left behind.
My lips part, about to reply something snarky about her being too tame, when the small ‘ding’ from the bell above the door announces the arrival of a new customer. We both glance over, my eyes growing wide at the eye candy that just entered.
“Yum,” slips free and I swear Kaleigh makes a choking sound.
“Ho-ly fuck.” The swear word comes out as barely a whisper. If I weren’t sitting directly across from her, I’d had never heard it. “Shhh!”
“Oh please, look at him,” I reply, gesturing my hand towards the man. He commands attention, mine included.
Everyone in the restaurant grows quiet, staring at him standing in the doorway. Four men with his stature and larger enter next, coming to stand behind him. Their presence radiates power, bringing naughty thoughts to mind. I’m not sure of how much work I’d get done at the office if I had to work around men looking like that.
I bet they’re lawyers with enough money to purchase the decent suits they’re sporting with lonely, unmarried lives so they hit up the gym every morning to sculpt those impressive bodies. They’ve most likely won a few cases, forming that cocky, dominant attitude they wear on their faces. I’d do them. Well not all of them, but the first one I saw. His demeanor portrays him as the alpha of the group and that’s just plain sexy.
Whispering again, Kaleigh leans in closer, “Do you have any idea who that is? And stay quiet, be respectful.”
“No clue, and I’m always respectful; it’s not like he’s the Godfather.” My eyes roll at her dramatics, waving her off. I’m a little put off that she feels the need to scold me in the first place. Like my comments are so bad; men are ten times worse when they see an attractive woman.
A strangled noise comes from her throat, making me wonder if maybe she shouldn’t have had that tequila after all. I think I’ll order one for myself before heading back to work. I’d ask hot stuff up at the front to throw one back with me, but I doubt he’d take the stick out of his ass long enough to have some fun. He shouts all work and no play, hen
ce the money to pay for that suit, no doubt.
“That,” she whispers intensely, cocking her head toward the man in question, “is Thaddaeus Morelli.”
“Okay.” I nod. I still have no idea why she’s acting like a fruit loop. So, the last name’s Italian; half of the damn city’s Italian.
“That’s the Joker Grace—in the flesh! He’s a freaking gangster; a very, very bad gangster.”
I snort again, laughing. I can’t help it. She’s crazy. There’s no way that man is a gangster. There’s nothing ‘thuggish’ about him. If anything, I’d be more likely to believe that he’s a prominent, rich businessman in that custom-tailored suit. I wouldn’t think twice about him stealing my purse if I was walking down the street.
He has medium brown hair, slicked back—trimmed short, but not too short—with enough to wind your fingers in. I don’t see any tattoos on him, but if he has any they’re most likely covered by the suit he’s wearing. I doubt they’d be covered though, if he was a gangster. I’ve watched The History Channel and their specials on organized crime before; he looks nothing like any of them. It’s safe to say that if I saw him getting into an expensive car, I’d believe it was his—not that he was stealing it. That is, after all, what the gangsters on The History Channel do. They steal, cheat, bribe, and sell drugs. This man clearly is not a drug addict and has enough money in his pocket to pay for his lunch.
My disbelieving snort must be louder than normal with everyone being quiet, because suddenly I’m in an intense eye lock with the man himself; only he’s not as amused as I am. His gaze is dark and stormy with unmeasured anger. He could probably blow someone up with that lethal look. I don’t know if he wants to skin me alive or yank my skirt off and go to pound town.
Swallowing, my throat grows dry at the glower. And so help me, my dumb ass wants to roll my eyes to push his buttons, curious to discover what he’ll do and see if I can make that scowl become even darker. I’m not normally so self-destructive, but Kaleigh’s proclamations have my stubborn side rearing its head.
I can make out my best friend in the background, still murmuring details as I have a stare down with one of the finest men I’ve ever seen. “Everyone calls him the Joker, but it’s not because of his love of laughs; it’s the opposite. He never jokes with anyone. He’s not even nice and he doesn’t speak to regular people.”
That gets me. I blink, breaking the stare off and meet her gaze, “Um … regular people? You mean like you and me?” She nods her head just a touch, not wanting to move and call attention to herself. “What a dick,” I grumble and she gasps at my blunt but truthful reply. Shortly after, my arm warms.
You know how you get the prickly feeling when you can tell someone is watching you and sometimes your cheeks heat? I have that, but also the uncanny suspicion that he’s not simply staring at me anymore, but like his body’s physically near me. I can feel his presence as if he’s sucked all the air and energy out of the room.
Inhaling a deep breath, I turn to my left and damned if I wasn’t right. I knew I felt someone approaching us when I questioned her about being ‘a regular person.’ Sure as fuck, I glance up, and it’s him—right beside me.
He glowers down at me with golden irises blazing, full of intimidation. He’s a broody one, I can already tell, and for some odd reason I find it incredibly sexy in a man.
When I get nervous or irritated, I tend to get a bit sarcastic, so before I think about my words, I let a little snark come out. “I’ll take a refill. To go, please. Oh, and the check. Thanks.” Turning my head away quickly, I push my glass closer to the edge of the table and bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t babble, concentrating on pushing my food around my plate.
I can’t believe I just let that come out of my mouth. So much for the shot idea. I have a feeling he may lose it and get us kicked out before I can reunite with my old friend, Jose Cuervo. Or else Kaleigh may pass out from hyperventilating and make me tote her ass back to my office.
The restaurant’s so silent, you can hear the refrigerator kick on behind the waitress area.
I swallow again, trying not to exhale to loudly.
A throat clears, but I keep my head still and count to myself.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Holy shit.
Seven.
Holy shit.
What number was I on?
Five of the longest seconds I’ve ever experienced. My self-coping method of counting out random numbers comes to a smashing halt when warm fingertips brush my chin. They’re soft and careful as they gently turn my face toward him again—the movements commanding, but not forceful.
His voice is low, almost gravelly, like he’s not used to speaking or perhaps he’s used to yelling a lot. He is Italian, after all. “Your bill is taken care of, Bella.” He licks his bottom lip. “I will send someone with your drink.”
Pure sex. That’s what comes to mind when he speaks. I would climb him like a goddamn jungle gym right now if the circumstances were different. I could fucking die. Legit, just keel over after hearing the sexy rasp that no doubt matches his beautiful face. I bet his body’s insane under that suit, no flaw about him. And that accent, definitely Italian.
My hands clench into fists as I stop myself from doing the sign of the cross, thanking God for creating a man so divine to look at and listen to.
I’m too embarrassed at my rude behavior—at the entire scene and knowing that everyone is staring—to meet his gaze. Barely nodding, mimicking Kaleigh from earlier, I keep my eyes trained on the rich texture of his deep blue tie. It’s nearly black, but there’s a hint of color that I can make out with the hanging light over our table. It’s one of my favorite colors, but that’s irrelevant right now.
“Th-thank you.” My reply comes out quietly, damn near sounding like a choke, all too aware of everyone’s attention. I’ll probably never be able to have lunch here again after this. That means a farther walk and less time to eat, thanks to me not listening to my friend and not keeping my thoughts and noises to myself.
His fingers slip away, his demeanor radiating disappointment from me not looking at him. He wanted me to challenge him. I know it. I also know when to tuck my tail and shut up. He didn’t deserve my bitchiness.
Kaleigh said to be respectful. That should mean me not meeting his stare, right? It’s hard to think at all—about anything—with him so near, the only thing on my mind is his smell and how fast my heart is beating. I’m surprised you can’t hear the rapid thrum as the organ thunders away under my breast.
Men don’t just randomly come up and touch me, and in that spot? It was a more of a caress. That alone says so much about him. My friend’s right; he’s different.
Most guys would touch your shoulder or place their hand a little too close to your breast or even your ass. However, he chose two fingers, right under my chin. He wanted me to meet his gaze like earlier, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Having him near, snuffed out my bravado and scattered my thoughts, not an easy feat when it comes to me.
God, he smells so fucking good too, like rain mixed with alpha male. Pheromones such as those should be bottled up and sold. I’d dump that shit all over my pillow at night. How can you possibly think when a man smells like that?
He’s remains standing beside me for a moment longer, almost as if he wants to say something else, but refrains. I wish he wouldn’t have held back. I wanted him to speak some more, even if it was merely to tell me to fuck off. I want to hear that voice again so I can commit it to memory, along with those furious golden irises.
The door chimes, and this time when I look up, he and the other men have left.
The restaurant buzzes with excited chatter in the aftermath, as if they can’t stand to remain quiet a moment more. Kaleigh just stares at me like I’m a glitter-covered unicorn giving out free donuts that she’s never seen before or something.
A Styrofoam cup with
a lid secured and a new straw is placed down in front of me. “Ma-ma’am,” the server interrupts nervously. “Anything else? A piece of Tiramisu or a cappuccino, maybe?”
She wasn’t so friendly before. Not that we minded anyhow; we’re used to her since we eat here a few times a week. You’d think she’d know us by name by now, but like I said, she’s not that kind to us usually.
“No thanks. Just our bills please, separate if you don’t mind.”
“It’s been taken care of, along with anything else you’d like.”
“So, if I wanted to stay all afternoon, sitting around, drinking your most expensive liquor, I wouldn’t get a bill?”
She shakes her head, black hair secured in a tight ponytail. “No. You wouldn’t get a tab for the rest of the week either.”
“Whoa, what do you mean, exactly?”
“I was instructed that your bill is paid, and that if you returned again this week, then it would be taken care of as well.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No ma’am, not even a little.”
“Wow—” I should get a bottle of wine or something to take with me.
Kaleigh interrupts, “Well, thank you. We should go then.”
“Right, I have to get back too.” I agree with her and the server walks off without another word.
Collecting our things, we head out the door. I don’t know what to say. I have a million questions running through my mind now, and it’s all a bit overwhelming, rendering me speechless.
“Maybe we should get you a cab back to your office,” my friend suggests, making me pause.
“It’s gorgeous out here; I’ll save the fare and walk. You should too.”
“Look Grace, I’ll be frank. Those aren’t the type of people whose radar you want to be on. You need to be careful. My God,” she mutters quietly, closing her eyes for a moment, her hand going to her forehead as if she still can’t believe it. “He spoke to you.”
“And? He’s just another guy. A gorgeous one at that, but he was in the flesh, you said so yourself. You act like you’ve seen a freaking ghost or something. He wasn’t rude and just bought us lunch. Maybe he’s not so evil.”
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