Possessive Royal (Duke of Tudor #2) Read Online Amarie Avant

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: Duke of Tudor Series by Amarie Avant
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
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Nevertheless, Jackson had never been in my territory. X-Member knew me simply as Victor. If he’s here for me, I need to be the first to know.

“Tell me what is going on?” Graham asks through tensed lips as we start out of the pool room.

Burt rushes toward us. “Victor, Jackson has been spotted on the premises. The west area, next to the maze. Monica has sent—”

“There is no time for her assistance.” I remove my 9mm from the gun case he’s holding.

“I thought you’d say so, sir.” He readies his own handgun. The crisp air meets me as I step outside dressed only in swim shorts. I feel nothing.

“You arsehole, if our ladies are in danger.” Graham’s lips tremble in the cold as he follows us out, arms clutching his puny abdomen.

In navy-blue uniform pants and a racer jacket, Jackson stands at the edge of the maze. Luxury and Alba are in sweat suits, talking to him. Tension snaps in the air. His gaze locates me, then returns to them, his innocent targets.

Voice sharper than a scalpel’s edge, I order, “Little One, Alba, come. Now.”

“Vic.” Luxury’s smile fades as she stares at me in the foggy morning. They glance at Jackson in a new light, emotions confused by the mist of early morning. Slowly they walk toward us as I hurry toward them.

“Baby, what is going on?” Luxury whispers.

“The gardener—” Alba begins.

“He is not a gardener. You two, go inside.” My eyes never leave my target. Luxury attempts to take my hand. She speaks, worry in her tone, but I don’t hear her words. I bark an order for her to go. Alba pulls her along.

Jackson settles on the steps of the gazebo. His eyes flit toward me and to the gun in my hand.

He lets out a whistle of approval, speaking with a southern drawl. “Now, I ain’t ever been the kind to get jealous over another guy. But man, has X-Member treated you real good.”

“No, they have not.”

“Then what in the Sam Hill possessed you to come and wrangle with me for half of my missions?” He gives a low chuckle. “Do you know why I’m here?”

“You were on vacation when a slew of arseholes came for me last October?” I shrug. “Now, you’ve caught up?”

“Nah. I wasn’t. A few months back, I retired. Yesterday, I got a call. I’m guessing nobody wants to take your sorry ass out these days. So, I just put two and two together. The girl, she has similar features of the man you were to kill,” he says observantly and then stands back up. “But the old man’s mark was canceled, and X-Member ceased the free-for-all. Now, your head is worth 2.7 million dollars.”

I quickly convert the amount to euros.

“Bollocks. Overton,” I reply through gritted teeth. It’s the exact payout he received when I took over his shop.

Jackson nods. “Yeah. I supposed the irregular dollar amount would mean something to you. Now, I could continue with the assignment as is and murder you or,” Jackson looks around at my vast lands, “I could disappear with much more than a few measly millions.”

I chew my lip in consideration. “Like me, you don’t do it for the money.”

“That is true.” He starts to back away. “Like you, I’ve met a very beautiful woman. But taking you out would be dandy.” Jackson quickly deters my worry that other members will be coming after me. “I took the assignment as the sole executioner.”

“I appreciate that. I’ll handle Overton.” If Jackson were any other person, I wouldn’t trust him. As a fellow sharpshooter, we have a code that goes beyond any binding loyalties, such as Jackson’s good standing with X-Member.

“That’s good. I’ll mark the assignment as complete then.”

“For your troubles, I’ll have my assistant ensure you truly enjoy your retirement.” With that, we shake hands and part ways.

36

Luxury

“Dear Diary, I just gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. I’ll do this all over again to have her. Still, I can’t help wondering,” as I read Momma’s diary, my voice cracks, “did I make a mistake?”

My hands tremble as she details how she adored the sight of Charles holding me as a baby.

Pages upon pages are dedicated to Charles, vaulting my mixed emotions. He went to work for Nexus, a health company that manufactured pacemakers. She wrote, Jonah, the love of my life, made the sacrifice of moving to the Bronx. Relinquishing his three-million-dollar apartment in Manhattan, so his new wife could live close to her ill parents.

I dig through the past. While both men held equally prestigious positions, Dad may not have been around much. God, it’s strange how we recall high-impact moments.

I remember the first time kids bullied me in kindergarten. Momma brushed the tears away. Uncle Red treated me like a pretty princess, bought me a new dress, and I experienced opulence at my very first tearoom. Dad . . . I can’t friggen recall.


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