The Umarova Crime Family Dark Mafia Series: The Complete Collection (5 books)
The Umarova Crime Family Dark Mafia Series: The Complete Collection (5 books)
The Umarova Crime Family Dark Mafia Series: The Complete Collection (5 books)
The Umarova Crime Family Dark Mafia Series: The Complete Collection (5 books)
The Umarova Crime Family Dark Mafia Series: The Complete Collection (5 books)
The Umarova Crime Family Dark Mafia Series: The Complete Collection (5 books)

The Umarova Crime Family Dark Mafia Series: The Complete Collection (5 books)

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šŸ—£ Narrated by AI

A deadly game of power and seductionā€¦

Brace yourself for a gripping blend of danger, suspense, action, and steam that will leave you hooked from start to finish featuring Ruslan, Lom, Santos, Nazyr, and Ambros from the gritty Umarova Crime Family dark mafia series.

BROKEN ANGEL
Heā€™s gone without a trace, but I know his heart is still beating.

DELICATE ANGEL
There are a million reasons not to date the Russian mobsterā€¦ I forget all of them the moment he touches me.

VICIOUS ANGEL
All this will ever be is an arranged marriage between two crime families. Until it becomes so much more.

TORMENTED ANGEL
I didnā€™t know temptation until I met herā€¦ Another mafiosoā€™s plaything.

WOUNDED ANGEL
Sheā€™s too beautiful, naive, and inexperienced for a killer like me.

This collection includes ALL FIVE BOOKS at one low price. Each interconnected standalone, full-length novel in this explosive series will bring you a thrill ride youā€™ll never forget.

Get ready to join the Umarova Crime Family for an exhilarating and unforgettable adventure today!

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PRINT LENGTH 965 pages
AUDIO LENGTH 27 hours and 31 minutes
NARRATED BY Virtual Voices
LANGUAGE English
PUBLICATION DATE December 5, 2023

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Broken Angel: Chapter Three

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ā€œHow do you know heā€™s coming back?ā€ Emily inquires.

ā€œHe said heā€™d come back.ā€

Emily rolls her eyes and licks her lips. She doesnā€™t say a thing yet, and I know sheā€™s trying to be as tender with me as she can. Iā€™ve been through some intense shit throughout my life, and every now and again, I notice Emily metaphorically puts white gloves on before she speaks to me. Iā€™m not as fragile and broken as she thinks I am.

ā€œWhat if he only said that to keep you off his case, Amelia?ā€ I know sheā€™s concerned, but she doesnā€™t have all the information that I do.

ā€œHe didnā€™t. Ruslan works in security and is very well known and respected. He left one of his colleagues here to keep an eye on me while he was away, and heā€™s literally outside in the blacked-out SUV right now. Iā€™m sure you can see it from the living room window if you want to look.ā€

Emilyā€™s eyes widen, and she looks at me like I have a couple screws loose. ā€œYouā€™re joking.ā€

She rushes over to the living room window and pulls back the blinds, proceeding to look out through the window. The coffee maker beeps in the background, signaling itā€™s done. I grab two mugs from the cupboard and make the coffee just as we both like it, creamy and sweet.

ā€œI really thought you were fucking with me. No lie,ā€ Emily says, shaking her head in disbelief as she comes back into the kitchen.

ā€œYeah, Iā€™m not. I called the guy out in the SUV the other day. I asked him point blank if he knew where Ruslan was, and he told me he didnā€™t. I ended up getting enough information to figure out Ruslan told Danill, the dude in the SUV, to keep an eye on me. Thatā€™s why Danill isnā€™t out there trying to find Ruslanā€¦ because Ruslan gave him a job, and he knows better than to disobey him.ā€

ā€œHoly shit. You said well respected. I think you mean feared too. Employees who are terrified of their bosses act like that.ā€

ā€œYeah, but Ruslan hasnā€™t contacted him either, so I know heā€™s in some sort of trouble.ā€

ā€œOkay, so what are you going to do about it?ā€ Emily asks as I hand her one of the mugs of coffee.

I blow on the hot liquid before taking a sip. ā€œI donā€™t know, but I think Iā€™ll find out soon. Come on.ā€ I place the mug on the counter and head straight for the door. My hairā€™s up in a messy bun, I have an oversized MetallicaĀ T-shirt on, and Iā€™m in a pair of shorts. Basically, I look like a bum, but I want answers.

Iā€™m out the door before Emilyā€™s even made an attempt to follow me. I walk straight up to where Danillā€™s parked, and he slowly rolls down his window.

He cocks both of his brows up and pushes his thick sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. ā€œHow can I be of service, Miss Amelia?ā€

ā€œWhat updates do you have for me?ā€

Danill laughs, but he isnā€™t amused in the least bit. ā€œIā€™ve been in communication with Ruslanā€™s brother, Lom, whoā€™s handling the situation.ā€

I wait for him to say something else, but thatā€™s all he tells me. ā€œSeriously? Thatā€™s all you have to tell me?ā€

ā€œHis brother is handling it. I have a job to do, which is making sure you stay safe and donā€™t get yourself into too much trouble.ā€

I lick my lips slowly and debate what Iā€™m about to say, but Iā€™ve decided to go full-on apeshit. Iā€™ll look crazy, but I really donā€™t give a damn.

ā€œIf you donā€™t figure out when weā€™re on the next flight out of here, Iā€™m going to hurt myself and tell Ruslan you didnā€™t protect me. Iā€™ll tell him itā€™s all your fault, and heā€™ll believe me because heā€™s fucking obsessed with me. Heā€™s like a kid, and Iā€™m his favorite toy to play with. Iā€™m tired of the lack of progress youā€™re telling me, Danill, so get with the program or get your ass fired.ā€


Delicate Angel: Chapter Five


I go up to the door and rap my knuckles against the glass before entering. He waves with his hand for me to come in, so I push on the handle of his glass door and allow the door to shut behind me. I head over to his desk and take a seat in one of the chairs sitting on the other side. ā€œIs everything all right?ā€ I nervously ask Michael.

He inhales slowly through his nose and looks me up and down. ā€œI donā€™t think you should be the one to ask the questions here, Emily. I must admit, Iā€™m a bit taken aback by your sudden changes. I expected more from you, honestly.ā€

Every bit of air in my lungs is suddenly gone, and Iā€™m struggling to understand what Michaelā€™s trying to say. ā€œIā€™m sorry, I donā€™t understand. Am I doing something wrong?ā€

ā€œIā€™m simply wondering why your work ethic has changed since I hired you. Before, you were here when I came in every morning and were still here when I left to go home. Now I donā€™t see you here before me or after me. So Iā€™m wondering whatā€™s going on.ā€

ā€œUm, I was interning here at that time. I was desperately trying to prove to the company that I was a valuable asset, so I often worked sixty or seventy-hour weeks to do that. Since I have my job now, Iā€™m on a more consistent schedule. I personally prefer working three really long days. That way, I can get a lot more work done at one time. The clients seem to like me working in this way as well. So, I pull three twelve-hour days and then come in another day for four hours. I donā€™t take lunch breaks on my long days, either.ā€

ā€œI find it interesting you were working long hours when you were interning.ā€

I nod. ā€œYes, because, again, I was trying to prove that Iā€™m a valuable asset to the company. Iā€™m done with that because I was hired.ā€

ā€œI liked your work ethic better when you were an intern.ā€ His comment blows my mind, but I guess I shouldā€™ve expected some sort of reaction to my schedule change. ā€œWhat sort of things will you do to make me believe in you again, Emily?ā€ Michael raises his brows and then scans his eyes over my entire body, stopping right on my breasts.

I know exactly what heā€™s insinuating, and it sickens me. Nausea slowly begins to roll through my stomach, and my skin begins to feel clammy. Itā€™s fucking disgusting. I debate folding to his idea for a split second, but I know Iā€™m worth more than my ass or boobs. Iā€™m an intelligent woman with brains. I have intellect, and Iā€™ve made this firm a lot of money in the time Iā€™ve been working here.

I stand up from my seat and look right at Michael. ā€œI was hired to be a commercial real estate agent, which means Iā€™ve passed all the stateā€™s licensure exams and certifications. If thereā€™s something within my job description that Iā€™m not doing correctly, you can let me know. But Iā€™m walking out of your office. You canā€™t hold me in here otherwise.ā€ I donā€™t wait for any sort of reply from Michael because I know he doesnā€™t have shit on me. So I walk out of his office and head over to where my desk.

ā€œEverything okay?ā€ Kim questions, and Iā€™m sure my stress and frustration are written all over my face.

ā€œIā€™m actually leaving for the day. I have this migraine that just came on when I was in Michaelā€™s office. Itā€™s probably best if I go home and lay down in a dark room.ā€ What Iā€™m telling Kim is total and utter bullshit, but he smirks at me.

ā€œMichael is the migraine, no doubt.ā€ He gives me a knowing look, and I try not to smirk back at him.

I grab my purse from the cubby in my desk, sling it over my shoulder, and head for the elevators at a determined pace. Within five minutes, Iā€™m walking into the parking garage and heading over to my car. My phone begins ringing, so I fish it out of my purse and answer it even though the caller ID reads ā€œUnknownā€.

ā€œHello?ā€ I say right as I answer it.

ā€œThis is a collect call from a Fulton County correctional institution. To accept this call, please press one and then the pound button,ā€ a computerized voice tells me over the phone.

Who in the world could be calling me from jail? Then it hits me. Thereā€™s only one person that I know of that is in jail right now.Ā 

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