The Claim

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Authors: Billy London

BOOK: The Claim
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www.beautifultroublepublishing.com

Copyright © 2011 by Billy London

All Rights Reserved.  No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including but not limited to: printing, photocopying, faxing, recording, electronic transmission, or by any information storage or retrieval system without prior written permission from the authors or holders of the copyright. 

This book is a work of fiction.  References may be made to locations and historical events; however, names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and/or used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), businesses, events or locales is either used fictitiously or coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

Published by

Beautiful Trouble Publishing, LLC

PO Box 61

Colfax, NC 27235

www.beautifultroublepublishing.com

Cover Art: Les Byerley,
http://www.les3photo8.com/

Editor: Stephanie Parent

Proofreader: Novellette Whyte

http://authorgurunovellette.blogspot.com/

Formatting: Jim & Zetta,
http://www.jimandzetta.com/

E-book conversions: Jim & Zetta
http://www.jimandzetta.com/

ISBN: (e-book)
978-1-61788-241-8; (print) 978-1-61788-242-5  

For Jayha and The Jeanie for getting behind this Knight and kicking the others down the list.

 

For my friends who have wiped out my disappointments with their shoulders, their laughter

and a martini.

 

For my godfather, who taught me that there
are
true gentlemen in the world. I will miss you forever and a day.

NOTE ABOUT EBOOKS

 

eBooks are NOT transferable.  Re-selling, sharing or giving away eBooks is a copyright infringement.  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author or Beautiful Trouble Publishing.

CAVEAT

 

This work of erotica contains adult language and sexually explicit scenes, which are smoking hot.  This book is intended only for adults, as it is defined by the laws of the country in which the purchase is made.  Keep this book out of the hands of under-aged readers.

Glossary

A Tweet Moment
: (phrase) homage to author Dréa Riley, singer Tweet and her song “Oops (Oh My)” and having alone time to pleasure oneself.

Bedda
: (noun) Sicilian dialect for beautiful.

Blind arse mick
: (phrase) (colloquialism) to take liberties

Blouse and skirt
: (phrase) a Jamaican phrase commonly used as a mild expletive such as ‘oh shit’

Fetuso
: (noun) Sicilian dialect for motherfucker.

Gurn
: (verb) to make a face associated with one who is typically under the influence of alcohol or drugs.

Michia
: (noun) Sicilian dialect for cock.

Off licence
: (noun) a shop permitted to sell alcoholic drinks for consumption elsewhere.

Picciottu
: (noun) Sicilian dialect for boy.

PACE
: (legislation) Police and Criminal Evidence Act 1984.

Tempesta
: (noun) Sicilian dialect for storm.

 

Prologue

 

Once upon a time, long, long ago, Rocco Mamione thought he was going to marry the most beautiful princess in the land. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know or that his family had no idea just how serious he was. All he could see was a bright and beautiful future with his princess. And he could not wait for it to start.

Rocco envisioned that he and the princess would storm the legal world and together become an invincible force of justice. Sadly for Rocco, this was not to be. The princess was to suffer a spell of deceit, and his father was to be plagued by a spell of betrayal. A keep of dragons prevented Rocco from lifting the spell from either his princess or his father, and he lost them both.

Time passed for Rocco in a mire of sadness, stoned in behind an ice-cool facade. He studied. He learned. He gathered knowledge of such power that his name was whispered before he arrived anywhere of import. As he aged, he watched as those closest to him found their happiness. Friends who had waited for their true love. Friends who had played the jester and found the one person who appreciated their precarious balance of festivity and downright rudeness. One development that particularly stung was that Massimo Da Canaveze was on his second marriage, and Rocco was yet to enter into a single relationship of importance. By “importance,” Rocco meant one that truly matched the love he’d had for his princess. The love he
still
had for her.

It came to be that Rocco was compelled to challenge the keep of dragons and rescue his princess, because goddammit, Rocco was fucking tired of being by himself.

 

Chapter One

 

Just let me get to the office without anyone interrupting T.I. in the middle of his flow.
Anna increased the volume on her iPod even as she caught sight of a colleague out of the corner of her eye. She had no desire to talk to anyone, not this early in the morning. This was her quiet time, before the madness and chaos and the “why wasn’t this done already?” began.

“Good morning, Ms. Taylor.”

Anna heard him during a dip in the music. With a resigned sigh, she turned off the iPod. “Morning.”

“’Citing, isn’t it?”

Anna glanced over. “What is?”

“Charles finally landed that lawyer he’s been after for ages. He’s announcing it today. His secretary sent me a text about a half hour ago.”

Rolling her eyes, Anna pushed through the heavy glass doors of the office. “Great.” Charles Piper, senior partner extraordinaire, was always after whatever new bit of legal flesh would bring money, notoriety and again more money.

She flashed her ID badge at security and jumped into the first available elevator before Dingbat could join her. Really. Announcing a new solicitor. Who did that? When she received her partnership, it was announced via e-mail. Yes, she’d received flowers and whatnot for climbing to the top faster than a rat in high water—not her words—but what could be so special about this new solicitor that it warranted interrupting a hazelnut latte and deleting unnecessary e-mails?

Everyone was gathered in the large foyer, half the firm seated. Tall enough to see over people’s heads, Anna took an involuntary step backwards at who was standing next to Charles and trod on Dingbat’s foot.

“So sorry, Ms. Taylor.”

“Quiet,” Anna snapped, rage bubbling in her chest. What. The. Fuck. Was. This? If Anna managed to swallow her own saliva right now, it would be hailed as a medical marvel.

“Good morning, everyone!” Charles clapped his age-spotted hands for attention. Anna would admit the man was savvy, even that she liked him on occasion, but he was still a money-hungry old goat and this, this decision of utter madness, just proved it. “Sorry for the brief notice, but it’s news too good not to share on a wonderful morning such as this. Finally, after much courting—the likes of which I haven’t done since Mrs. Piper agreed to be my wife—Rocco Mamione is officially a partner of Piper & Co. today.”

Anna flicked her music back on, drowning out the surprised cheers, and turned away to her office. She didn’t need to hear applause or any more arse kissing—she was done. Options started flicking through her head. Harrow Juniors wanted her to build an employment law department. She’d been speaking to the dean of her old university about perhaps taking up a position as a lecturer. Then she stopped herself. Fuck that, she had worked hard to get to where she was now, why walk out?
I’ll give you one guess
, her brain mutinied.

It was bound to happen. Regardless of how many lawyers could fill the bottom of the Atlantic, the legal world was a small one. Too small. She switched on her coffee machine and took out the milk, methodically discarding her coat, putting her bag on the nearest chair and turning on her computer.

Calm down
, she told herself, pulling the buds from her ears.
It’s not that bad
.

Her secretary burst into her office, a huge grin on her face. “We’ve got Satan’s lawyer! Isn’t that amazing?”

“You tell that to God on Judgement Day,” Anna drawled.

“He’s gorgeous! I can imagine him working out with dumbbells, in a wife beater and sweat pouring down that chest every morning before he suits up.”

“Fascinating. Can you grab the Martins Ltd. file for me? The director’s coming here in about twenty minutes, and I want to remind myself that there’s a point to this work.”

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