Savage Kiss Read Online Rosa Milano

Categories Genre: Dark, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)

He’s going to ravage me over and over again.
Says I can do nothing to stop him.

I’ve been punished for my family’s crimes.
Handed over to a powerful mob boss to clear their debt.
Leonardo Barone is a cruel monster, so different to the kind man I once knew.
Sure, he’s still hot as hell but now he’s cruel as the devil and there’s no hint of warmth left in those dark brown eyes.
I’m his property now, held in his lap with no way out, his firm hands all over me.
I must find a way to break free from his iron grip.
Because if I don’t, I know what happens next.
He drags me down the aisle to put his ring on my finger.

Savage Kiss is an age gap enemies-to-lovers dark mafia romance. It contains no cliffhangers and ends in a guaranteed HEA. Warning – contains intense scenes and subject matter some readers may find triggering.




I grab my gun before I even realize I’m awake. Barb is still faster than me, already busy growling over by the window. She heard it before I did. A helicopter, coming in fast. No more than a black dot against the early light of dawn.

The sky is shades of gray and purple, the sea still dark, waves crashing down on the shore far below the house.

Barb lets out a bark, then comes to lean on my side. “Bea?” I say to her. “You sure?”

She tilts her head as if checking, then she barks again.

“Good girl.”

By the time the helicopter sets down, I’m dressed and ready for my sister’s arrival.

As I walk out of the bedroom, I catch the side of the armchair, sending the empty whiskey bottle flying.

I head outside in time to find Bea already climbing out of the helicopter, crossing the lawn with a red file in one hand and an envelope in the other.

She stops when she reaches me, leaning down toward Barb. “You looking after him, girl?”

Barb woofs in response.

I fold my arms across my chest. “I don’t need looking after.”

“Sure you do.” She stands upright again.

I tap my foot impatiently. “What are you doing here, Beatrice?”

“Nice to see you too, Leo.”


“We going to do this outside in the cold or inside by the fire?”

“We can go inside, but I’m not changing my mind.”

“You might when you hear what I have to say.”

“There is nothing you can say that will make me leave the island.”

I turn and walk inside, Barb at my heels. I lead Bea into the tapestry room, pouring out two glasses of whiskey, passing one to her.

“Bit early, isn’t it?” she asks, looking at her watch.

“Your hands are shaking. It’ll help.”

She shrugs before downing the contents of the glass. “You know I hate flying,” she says as she sets the glass down. “And I hate that you live here. Of all our houses, you pick the one on Shell Island. Sure it isn’t just to torment me?”

“It’s to discourage visitors. I enjoy being alone. No risk of getting shot.”

“There was me thinking you were looking after the place where we grew up. Doing something noble and selfless for once.”

“Think what you want.”

“Always so angry. Thought you might have chilled out by now. Swimming and fishing every day, taking it easy.”

“Why are you here, Bea?”

“Dad’s dead.”

“You could have told me that over the phone.”

She hands me the envelope. I read the front. “To be opened in person by my surviving children in the event of my death. Why?”

She shrugs. “Maybe he wanted us to be together for once. You know how much family meant to him.”

“You could have opened it. He’s not around to care.”

She shakes her head. “I want to do this right. Plus, I wanted to come and see you.”

“Check I’m not dead yet, you mean?”

“All right, yes. I worry about you, Leo. Rattling around here on your own all these years.”

“I’m fine. I’ve got Sergio and Barb.”

“A gardener and an Alsatian don’t count. I hate to see you out here, wasting away with Mom’s old dog and a few servants, drinking yourself to death because you still feel guilty about something that wasn’t your fault.”

“Don’t start that again. We’ve been over this plenty of times.”

“All right.” She holds her hands up. “I’m sorry. Are you going to open it, or shall I?”

I tear open the envelope. Inside is a letter written in my father’s hand. “I, Don Romeo Barone, Godfather of the Barone Famiglia, leave the entirety of my empire to my surviving son, Leonardo, under the rules of primogeniture, excepting the house known as Windswept, and the contents of my Swiss account which go to providing for my daughter, Beatrice. The sole condition is that Leonardo must be married to Anna Caruso within one calendar month of the date of my death. If he should remain unwed after that time, the entirety of the estate, businesses, accounts, properties and all other physical and virtual material goods will go to the Caruso Famiglia.”