Killer Abs – Makes My Heart Race Read online C.M. Steele

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance Tags Authors:
Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 74(@250wpm)___ 62(@300wpm)

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Killer Abs - Makes My Heart Race

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

C.M. Steele

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I killed before, and I’d kill again. One look at the new chef in my kitchen, and I knew I’d kill anyone that even looked at her perfection with nothing but respect. The position had been a temporary job. However, the second I walked through the kitchen door, forever was all I had on my mind.
She didn’t belong in my world with all her sweetness, but there was no way I’d let her go.
She was mine to keep and mine to protect.
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C.M. Steele

Chapter One


The moment I pulled up to work, I noticed something was seriously wrong. The restaurant’s window had a giant “Temporarily Closed” sign, but the front door was open. I could see a large puddle on the sidewalk coming from the building.

It wasn’t pooled water from cleaning the windows. The amount could only mean one thing and that broke my heart. Tears quickly formed in my eyes as I walked through the open doorway. “Oh my God, Mr. Andretti. What happened?”

“A busted pipe.” He ran his hand through his hair, frowning as he stared at me. Working your entire life for one thing only to watch it fall apart must be brutal.

“You’re not going to close forever, are you?” I questioned. For both his and my sake, I hoped the answer would be an emphatic no. I’d worked hard to save money, but my car broke down and I had to use the cash to get it fixed. If I didn’t find another job soon, I’d be living in my car.

“No. No,” he offered, pressing his hand to my shoulder. We had built a father-daughter bond over the years.

“How long is the business going to be down?” It was selfish because I was thinking about myself and how the flood would fuck up my life.

“At least two weeks. It’s going to kill me to do it, but everyone is unemployed at the moment. I’m sorry, Maria.” He grabbed my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. I tried to hold back the disappointment on my face, but it was too heartbreaking. I needed this job to pay my rent. I didn’t have a fallback option since everything I learned had been through hands-on experience.

“Well, I better get looking for work,” I said, trying to smile, but my emotions were all over the place.

“I’m sorry. You can always file for unemployment.” He knew that I had no one to turn to. My parents had died in an accident two years ago. Because they never thought about saving a single dollar, they died poor, causing me to foot the bill for their burials.

Pursing my lips, I asked, “Do you know if anyone is hiring?”

“No.” He didn’t have to say it, but I knew that I wasn’t qualified for another restaurant. I barely finished high school.

I nodded, looking back at the restaurant and then back to Mr. Andretti. “Well, I better get going? Do you need me to do anything for you?”

“No, Bella.”

Just then, a black SUV pulled up in front of the building in a rush, parking on an angle. A man I’d seen several times before and despised stepped out with a scowl on his face. If there was any customer who set me on edge, it was this dude. He was the muscle for a Russian mob boss and made it know that he was a ruthless asshole with wandering eyes.

I was going to cut out, but Mr. Andretti tensed up and asked, “Igor? What brings you here?”

“The boss would like a special dinner tonight. What is going on, Andretti?” He looked around as if it weren’t apparent that Andretti’s wasn’t open for business.

“There was a flood. I can’t open the restaurant.” Mr. Andretti looked terrified, all because some fat mobster couldn’t get his big Italian meal. Seriously, this boss of Igor’s had problems.

“Mr. Kazakov expected a feast for his guests tonight,” he bristled with violent intent.

“Well, I’m sorry; there’s nothing I can do,” he begged as if he’d get whacked for not giving the goon what he wanted.

“The boss will be very disappointed to hear that.” He stepped away from us and got on his phone. I rolled my eyes behind his back.

“His boss is a very picky man,” I muttered so Igor the goon couldn’t hear me. I hated the way he’d lurk in the kitchen while we made his boss’s dinner as if we planned to poison it or something. None of us even knew what Mr. Kazakov looked like, and we preferred to keep it that way. The less we knew, the better for all of us.

“Mr. Kazakov has been very good to me and my business. You know you make all of his meals.” I gasped because I thought maybe the pasta king also ordered when I wasn’t working.

Igor, the fucking brute, came back over with a scowl on his face and handed the phone to Mr. Andretti.

Igor stared at me while they spoke with his eyes roaming over me. I wasn’t in my typical chef uniform, so he stared at my bared legs and then lingered on my breasts. I wanted to punch him in his dick. “Yes, I know it was very important, but there’s nothing I can do.” I couldn’t hear the voice on the other end, but from the nervousness in Mr. Andretti’s voice, I took a guess that the Tony Soprano wannabe didn’t like being told no.