My Husband Is The Mafia King

n front of the floor-to-cei

els so high they could be considered weapons. Julian stood behind m

he murmured, pressing a

throw up," I admitted, my

ing, and now you are a Blackwood. You were born for this. Just remember:

I walked into the boardroo

ad spent years kissing my father's shoes. When they saw me walk in, fl

he table. My mother looked like she had aged ten

God you're here. You have to tell them to relea

e head of the table-my father's chair-

my voice steady and cold. "He stole millions of dollars

. "This is your fault! You and your

f being bullied by him, belittle

here right now, but I am. And I'm not the weak

. Blackwood," he said nervously. "With your father in jail, the c

ir and sat down. "Effective immediately, I a

ng that I had no right. My mother was crying, beggin

. "You don't have the shares! Your fat

out a thick folder, dropping it

ercent. But last night, Julian bought out the smaller shareholders. And as of this morn

in the room

psed back into her chair. Mr. Henderson look

he table. "Does anyone else hav

said

're fired. Clear out your desk by noon. And Mother, you

!" my mother screamed, tears streamin

y the day you let your son throw a napkin at my husband and called him a dog. Y

The meeting i

soon as the doors closed behind me, I leaned against the wall,

ress

eaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He was wearing a

ing?" I asked,

stopped just inches away, his hand reaching out to gent

rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, a

s it?"

oice tight. He put the p

r. He sounded breathless, almost panicked. "We hav

jaw clenc

er, Boss,"

lian doesn't h

le. The ruthless, powerful Mafia

"But he died ten years ago

lked into the Diamond Club with an army of men. And Bos

e phone, his eyes

dropping to a dangerous wh