Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com Thu, 01 Nov 2018 13:57:33 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.wownovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com 32 32 Wild Card Read online Renee Rose (Vegas Underground #8) http://www.wownovels.com/wild-card-8-read-online-renee-rose Thu, 01 Nov 2018 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/wild-card-8-read-online-renee-rose Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Authors: Renee Rose Series: Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Wild Card (Vegas Underground #8)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Renee Rose
Language:	English
Book Information:
“YOU’RE IN BIG TROUBLE, DOLL” The little hacker stole from the Family--hundred fifty grand. We Tacones don’t take kindly to thieves. Not even when they come in a package as cute as hers. Not even after she shows me how high her freak flag flies. Now there will be hell to pay for my hot geek. And I’m the one coming to collect. But when she ends up in jail for the transaction I ordered her to make I decide to bail her out. Because she’s a wildfire. A force of nature too bright to be put out. And I don’t need the money. I’d rather have her.
Books in Series:	Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose
Books by Author:	Renee Rose Books

Chapter 1

Caitlin

Fists at boob level, elbows back, I lead my dance cardio class through some booty shaking to the song, Sweet but Psycho.

Yeah, it’s pretty much my theme song.

“Step touch, throw your hand down in front,” I sing into the headset, exaggerating the movements to help the class follow along.

Dance cardio is my jam. I teach it four nights a week at the campus rec center and take other movement classes on the off-nights. Anything to keep me moving, which probably seems strange for a computer science geek.

It does border on obsessive, but it’s not one of those body-hatred kind of things. I’m not working out to achieve some body ideal or to look a certain way.

I just need to move. I have a hard time staying in my body, otherwise.

Dissociative disorder is the official diagnosis. I check out when things get intense for me. Movement helps. Pain and sex work even better.

General consensus—I’m broken.

But that doesn’t matter much, because my time is running out.

The siphon I put on the Tacone family’s casino business—the one where I skimmed a fifth of a penny from every transaction—got shut down two weeks ago.

And even though I used an off-shore account for storing the funds before they paid for my brother’s and my college tuition, there’s a decent chance I’m going to end up swimming with the fishes, as they say.

But I knew that going into my little revenge scheme.

“Wide second position, deep breath in.” I start the cool down. It’s always over too soon. I lead the class through the closing stretches and thank them all for coming.

“Thank you, Caitlin.” My students wave and smile as they leave. Here, I’m almost normal. I could be just like any of them. A pretty, wide-smiling graduate student getting her workout.

It’s when people get to know me a little better they see my crazy. Decide I’m the girl to give a wide berth around. Which is totally fine with me.

I grab my towel and head to the showers, picking up my phone to check messages. Not that I ever have any. It’s just an anxious habit from when my brother Trevor was still in foster care, and I would freak out if he didn’t contact me every day to let me know he was still alive.

Still okay. Not living the nightmare I’d lived.

It’s one of the many quirks I have the Tacones to thank for. The side effect of having a dad murdered by the mob.

Except now that I’ve had my revenge, now that they’re coming for me, I’m thinking I shouldn’t have stirred the hornet’s nest.

I was probably better use to Trevor alive than dead. Even if I did generate enough funds to pay our college tuition.

I’d better warn him. I dial his number and he picks right up.

“Hey, Caitie.” He’s the only person I let call me that.

“Hey, Trevor. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?” It’s sometimes weird to me how normal he turned out compared to me. But he had a decent foster family. And he had me.

I had only ugliness and myself to rely on.

“Hey, I have to tell you something, but it’s going to be fine,” I say quickly, just to get the words out. I’ve tried to tell him four other times since the money got cut off, but chickened out every time.

“What is it?”

“Um, I may have hacked a company I shouldn’t have messed with.”

“Oh shit. What happened? Are you in jail?”

“Nope, not jail. It probably won’t go that route. Do you remember who killed Dad?”

Trevor goes dead quiet. When he speaks, his voice sounds scared. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“I did. Anyway, they probably won’t figure it out, but if they do, you remember the place we used to say we’d meet up if anything bad happened with foster care?”

I don’t know why I’m speaking in code. It’s not like the mafia are in the locker room right now. Or bugging my phone.

“I remember.”

“If I have to run, that’s where I’ll go. Okay?”

“Shit, Caitie. This is bad. Are you crazy?”

“That’s what they say,” I remind him in a sing-song voice. “Anyway, nothing’s going to happen. I thought I should tell you just in case.”

“Maybe you should go hide there now.”

“No, I don’t even know if they’ll trace it to me. But if they do, I’ll figure it out. I don’t want you to worry.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely worried.”

My chest warms. Trevor’s the only good in my life.

“Well, don’t. You know me—I can take care of myself. I’ll figure it out. Just be cautious about any texts from me and don’t give up my location if anyone comes asking.”

“I won’t. Shit, Caitlin.”

“It’s okay. I promise. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“All right. Be careful.”

“I will.” I hang up and shove my phone down in my bag before I strip out of my sweaty clothes and step in the shower.

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Dead Man’s Hand Read online Renee Rose (Vegas Underground #7) http://www.wownovels.com/dead-mans-hand-7-read-online-renee-rose Sat, 25 Aug 2018 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/dead-mans-hand-7-read-online-renee-rose Genre: Erotic, Romance Authors: Renee Rose Series: Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Dead Man's Hand (Vegas Underground #7)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Renee Rose
Language:	English
Book Information:
“I OWN YOU NOW” She made a big mistake. You don’t blackmail a Tacone. Coming to me with a threat? Unacceptable. If she needs money, she’ll have to ask nicely. But once I give it to her, we both know what it means: She belongs to me. I do my best to hold back. Give her respect. Because she was there when I got shot. She’s the girl from my nightmares—the one I have to protect. And now that I’m back from the dead, I’m trying to do things right. Trouble is, I can’t keep my hands off her. And now that she’s under my thumb, I don’t plan to let her go… Note: This steamy stand-alone romance is the seventh in USA Today bestselling author Renee Rose's Vegas Underground series. No cheating, no cliffhangers.
Books in Series:	Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose
Books by Author:	Renee Rose Books

Chapter 1

Gio

First the burning. Then the blood seeping through my fingers. Always the sound of Paolo croaking my name over the crack of more gunfire.

Gio, no!

Gio’s hit!

It’s the horror of loss ringing in his voice that makes my heart pound. Not the pain. Not my own fear of death. I don’t think about my demise in the moment. I didn’t when it actually went down, and I don’t in the nightmares that plague me every night.

And always the girl.

She’s in every nightly replay. Sometimes she gets shot, too. Those are the worst. My inability to rescue her, to protect her from damage makes me want to die right there. Other times she runs to me, after I’ve been shot. She wraps her arms around me and we both fall down.

Always her wide blue-green eyes lock onto mine the moment the first gun fires. I watch the terror fill them as the bullet tears through my middle.

That’s the moment that keeps her in my dreams. In that split second, in the window where I’m sure I’m going to die, hers is the face I see. My fears are for her safety, and my anguish over being shot is that I can’t protect her.

In her gaze, I swear I see it all mirrored back at me. She, too, thinks I’m going to die, and her anguish is in not warning me in time.

Because she tried. I remember every millisecond of that part. The five breaths before I got shot. I remember the way she tried to signal with her eyes. The way she refused to leave and get to safety, even though she had to know her cafe was about to explode in glass and wood and bullets and blood.

She’s like an angel in the dreams—her pale face the beacon I use to understand my own death.

Only I don’t die.

I didn’t die.

And you’d think that would make everything crystal clear. The whole near-death experience thing. It’s supposed to make you realize what you regret. What you desire. And then you get a second chance to make good on life.

Instead, I’m trapped in a nightmare-induced fog. Trying to untangle the meaning while I go through the motions of living.

The Caffè Milano girl doesn’t have the answers—I don’t know why or how my subconscious assigned so much meaning to her. She was just caught in the middle of a bad scene between the Russian bratva and our outfit.

And yet I can’t get her out of my mind.

The angel of my death.

Near-death.

Marissa. An innocent girl I have no business sullying.

A girl who already saw too much.

A liability.

Marissa

Some things you can’t forget. You can’t unsee. Can’t unhear.

Blood all over these floors. The sound of gunshots. The way my heart stopped when Junior Tacone pointed that gun at me, deciding whether to let me live or die.

I hate this time of day when the customers thin out, business gets slow, and I only have time to remember.

It’s been six months since the battle between the Russian and Sicilian mafia went down in Caffè Milano, and I’m still jumpy as hell. Still examining every customer who comes in, praying he’s not Russian mafia come for revenge. Or to shake me down for information on how to find the Tacones.

But they haven’t come. No one ever came except the Tacones with their window repair guys and a large enough amount of money to upgrade our whole kitchen. Which was good because our walk-in cooler was inches away from dying and this place hasn’t had a remodel since my grandparents opened it in the 1960s.

I pull a bowl of pasta salad from the deli case to put in the walk-in overnight. When I come back, I freeze, a gasp hitting the back of my throat.

At first, I think it’s Junior Tacone standing at my deli counter.

The guy who went gangster on my place and gunned down six guys. The one who is supposedly the protector of this neighborhood.

It’s not Junior, though. It’s his brother, Gio Tacone, the one who took a bullet out on the sidewalk. The man I thought was dead.

“Mr. Tacone!” I curse myself for sounding breathless.

“Gio,” he corrects. “Marissa, how are you?”

He knows my name!

That’s more than I can say for Junior, the current head of the family. And I wish it didn’t do fluttery things to my insides, but it does. Gio rests a forearm on the counter and pins me with a dark-lashed hazel gaze.

He is pure man-candy. With those chiseled good looks, he could easily have been an actor or model, and he has the charm to match.

“You’re alive,” I blurt. I hadn’t heard that he survived. I checked the newspapers and Googled his name after the shooting, and there weren’t any reports of his death, but I saw him take a bullet with my own eyes. “I mean, you made it. I’m so glad.” Then I blush, because, yeah. I’m probably not supposed to talk about what happened, even though it’s just the two of us here.

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His Queen of Clubs Read online Renee Rose (Vegas Underground #6) http://www.wownovels.com/his-queen-of-clubs-6-read-online-renee-rose Sun, 08 Apr 2018 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/his-queen-of-clubs-6-read-online-renee-rose Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Romance Authors: Renee Rose Series: Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	His Queen of Clubs (Vegas Underground #6)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Renee Rose
Language:	English
Book Information:
I came for revenge. The Tacone Family wiped out the Chicago mafiya. My bratva. My family. So I captured their little sister. Now that I have her, I don't want to let her go. I'd rather keep her forever--my captive bride. They'll pay a dowry instead of ransom. At the end of the day, the girl and the fortune will be mine. Because I'll never relinquish their queen of clubs. Note: This steamy stand-alone romance is the sixth in USA Today best-selling author Renee Rose's Vegas Underground series. No cheating, no cliffhangers.
Books in Series:	Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose
Books by Author:	Renee Rose Books

Chapter 1

Vlad

No fucking way. Just when I thought I was the least lucky bastard on this continent, I catch a break.

I’ve been staking out the Bellissimo and Nico Tacone for two months now.

The Tacones took down my entire cell. Junior Tacone and his brothers destroyed the Chicago operation while I was back in Moscow dealing with my mother’s affairs. Granted, Ivan, my idiot second, planned to take them all out and forever end their reign of influence in the Windy City. But he failed. And six of my men were found dead in an Italian cafe.

Victor put Ivan in charge of setting up the street business, but he was too small-minded and power-hungry to make it into much. And when I was sent to join the cell, he saw me as a threat to his autonomy. I had set up a meet with Junior to get the Tacone family involved in my laundering scheme—to diversify interests—but Ivan fucked everything up. When my mother died and I had to fly home to Moscow, he used my absence to try to eliminate the Italians and take the Chicago underworld for himself.

He underestimated Junior Tacone. Six of our guys ready and waiting with guns, and Junior single-handedly shot them all dead.

I’m not heartbroken over the loss of the Chicago business. I’m more concerned with the big money operations of the bratva. I’m the guy who manages our laundering accounts. But killing all the men in my cell? Unacceptable. And Victor, our pakhan, ordered me to exact revenge, so I’m here to do exactly that.

The Tacones may have done the brotherhood a favor by taking Ivan out, but they still owe me.

Victor would go for blood. Kill everyone Junior Tacone loves. That’s the way he operates. But I’m not that guy. Yes, I was raised in the violence and death of the organization, but I’m the money man.

And the Tacones have money. Plenty of it.

But it’s not coming from their Chicago operation. As far as I can tell, they’d begun shutting down most of their loan sharking on the streets in the past few years, and completely closed shop since I’ve been back.

So I came to Vegas. Where they own one of the most lucrative casinos in the country. And I’ve been watching the two Tacones who run it, trying to figure out what my play will be. I was thinking about taking one of their women. Simple ransom. Both men are clearly devoted to their wives—girlfriends—whatever.

And things just got much easier for me. Two limos rolled up this afternoon carrying the entire Tacone family—the three brothers from Chicago, a girlfriend, a mother, and a beautiful young sister in her early twenties.

I got a gossipy cocktail waitress to tell me everything she knows. I found out they’re here for Junior Tacone’s wedding—a spur of the moment kind of thing. The entire top floors of the casino have been closed off for the celebration. Rumor has it Stefano, the youngest brother, might marry his fiancée at the same time.

But I don’t give a shit about their marital status.

All I care about is one Tacone.

The lovely Alessia—baby sister to all five multi-millionaire brothers. I’d been trying to figure out which female to take—which brother would be most willing to pay for his woman. Now it’s easy. Grab the one they all care about.

And I don’t mean the mother.

Of course my decision to take Alessia over the old lady has everything to do with her model-perfect body, mile-long legs, and fucking gorgeous face. If I’m going to hole up with a Tacone female, it might as well be one who’s worth looking at.

All I have to do is knock out one of the waiters before he brings the food up to the wedding celebration and take his uniform and his place.

Alessia

My brother Junior is the biggest stronzo.

Actually, all five of my brothers are assholes, but Junior’s the worst. He informed us this morning that he and his pregnant girlfriend were going to elope in Vegas.

Tonight.

Which meant we all had to fly to Vegas to see it.

Although, honestly, I wouldn’t have missed this moment for the world. Even if traveling means a lot of work keeping my mother happy and my blood sugar under control. And it makes it harder to hide the fatigue caused by my kidney condition from my ever-watchful family. They don’t know about it and that’s how I’m going to keep it for as long as possible.

We’re up in one of the Bellissimo’s top floors, in a reception area with wall-to-wall windows overlooking Vegas. There’s a Catholic priest here to marry them. And the event turned into a surprise double wedding.

Stefano, my only easy-going brother—which doesn’t mean he isn’t just as lethal as the rest of them—popped the question to his girlfriend Corey this morning and they decided to make it a two-fer.

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Joker’s Wild Read online Renee Rose (Vegas Underground #5) http://www.wownovels.com/jokers-wild-5-read-online-renee-rose Sat, 18 Nov 2017 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/jokers-wild-5-read-online-renee-rose Genre: Angst, Romance Authors: Renee Rose Series: Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Joker's Wild (Vegas Underground #5)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Renee Rose
Language:	English
Book Information:
HE KIDNAPPED ME. HELD ME PRISONER. I knew Junior Tacone was dangerous. I worked for him once taking care of his mother. I thought when the job was over I’d be safe. Out of his awareness. Out of his reach. But his brother took a bullet and Junior picked me to be his nurse. So I’m his prisoner, trapped in his beautiful house, subject to his rule. And it seems he’s developed a thing for me. Which means he may never let me go... Note: This steamy stand-alone romance is the fifth in USA Today bestselling author Renee Rose's Vegas Underground series. No cheating, no cliffhangers.
Books in Series:	Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose
Books by Author:	Renee Rose Books

Chapter 1

Junior

It’s supposed to be a civil meeting after dark at Caffè Milano.

Trouble is, you never know when you’re dealing with Russian mafiya. Fucking unpredictable feral bastards.

We’re here today to talk territory. They’ve been encroaching on our neighborhoods. Moving drugs. Working prostitution with females I suspect are enslaved.

I don’t give a shit what they do anywhere else, and fuck knows we don’t have much business in our old neighborhoods anymore, but I consider it a Family obligation to keep them clean. Keep the fucking Russians out of them.

We meet in the open, at a sidewalk cafe in Cicero. We call it the old neighborhood, kinda like how my father’s generation used to refer to the Old Country.

We’re in the business of lending money, same as always. It’s legit, unless you count the beatdowns that come with not making payments on time. These days, business has grown to huge proportions and we’re now living in mansions in the suburbs. Which doesn’t mean I don’t care about what happens in my territory.

I see one of the younger bratva sitting at a table—Ivan, I think. Vlad, their leader, doesn’t seem to be there.

Cazzo. I don’t like the way this is going.

My brothers, Gio and Paolo, and I get out of the Range Rover, along with our soldiers, Mario and Luca. We’re all armed, although we don’t make a show of it by openly carrying weapons.

“Where’s Vlad?” I ask Ivan. Gio comes with me, the other three hang back, as arranged.

Ivan shrugs, looking bored. “Coming.”

The girl working the counter—a slouchy millennial in skinny jeans and a fitted top comes out. I recognize her but I don’t know her name. She’s the granddaughter of the original owner, Luigi Milano, my father’s friend.

“Mr. Tacone.” She greets me but her face is anything but friendly. In fact, her lips are drawn in a thin line and a muscle jumps in her jaw. She darts a glance at the Russian and back at me like she’s afraid of having both of us in her place at the same time.

I named Caffè Milano as the meeting location because I consider it friendly territory for us, but I wonder if, with the new generation, things have changed. Maybe they’ve made deals with the Russians.

I should be angry by the thought, but it registers as a low buzz, hardly an interest.

“Can I bring you anything? An espresso? Cannoli?”

“Get lost,” the Russian snaps and she visibly jerks, and when her gaze swivels back to me, there’s pleading in it.

Fuck.

Whatever the Russians are doing here, she’s not down with it.

Which means I still have a problem.

“Espresso,” I say, wishing I could think of her name. I remember her running around here as a little girl back when my dad used this as a meeting place. Marissa? Faith? Fuck, I have no idea.

She stands there a second longer—way too long for a normal server, and now I’m positive there’s a problem.

“Get. Lost.” The Russian looks dangerous.

She throws one last glance my way and heads inside.

Gio’s elbow presses subtly but firmly against my arm. He’s telling me something, too. I sense Paolo shift behind us.

Fanculo, this thing is going sideways. It’s a trick. An ambush.

I glance through the large plate glass window. Every seat near the window is taken. Unusual for this time of night. Caffè Milano is more of a daytime deli. They stay open until evening, but people aren’t usually hanging around. I notice every customer in the place has his head bent as if to obscure my view of his face.

Ivan stands up and my hand inches toward the Walther PPK at the back of my waist. “Let’s go inside.”

“I don’t think so,” Gio answers for me, whipping out his gun.

And just like that, the thing explodes.

Shots ring out from fucking everywhere. Some come from inside the cafe, shattering the glass. Some come from our guys behind me. Gio and the Russian on the sidewalk fire at each other.

I throw the table through the glass, shattering it with explosive force to clear the view, then aim and shoot at a wounded Ivan at the same time he hits Gio.

Gio grunts and staggers backward, clutching his gut.

No. No! Not Gio. Fuck!

Things go slow-motion for me. I grab Gio’s gun from his hand and shove him into Paolo and Mario. “Get him to the car!” I shout as I aim at the heads ducked down below the window. I pull the triggers.

One. Two. Three dead. I’m shooting with both hands like I’m in a motherfucking movie.

I slam my foot into the door to kick it open and walk through. Four. Five down. I swing the guns around, looking for movement. Luca enters behind me, gun drawn, late to the show.

Something moves behind the counter and I pivot the muzzle of my Beretta. Luca aims too. It’s the Caffè Milano girl.

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Mafia Daddy Read Online Renee Rose (Vegas Underground #4) http://www.wownovels.com/mafia-daddy-4-read-online-renee-rose Mon, 16 Oct 2017 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/mafia-daddy-4-read-online-renee-rose Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Erotic, Romance Authors: Renee Rose Series: Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 16556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Mafia Daddy (Vegas Underground #4)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Renee Rose
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B07MDRB9QN
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SHE'S ALWAYS BEEN MINE Don G gave me an order--find his daughter. Straighten her out. Bring her home. Sure--taking the mafia princess in hand will be my pleasure. But she’s not going home--she’s staying with me. Because despite the marriage contract to another family, Jenna Pachino has always been mine.
Books in Series:	Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose
Books by Author:	Renee Rose Books

Chapter 1

Jenna

The pounding music might be the only thing keeping me on my feet at the moment. I bounce and spin on the dance floor to the beats of DJ Sunshine, the coolest female DJ on Ibiza. I may or may not have one too many cosmos in me. The room tilts and spins alarmingly every time I slow down.

I guess I ought to thank mobster Nico Tacone for footing the bill on this party lifestyle, but I spent my entire life hating him, so gratitude would be an adjustment. Still, he released me from our marriage contract and gave me the money to run away until he worked things out with our families, so I have nothing to complain about.

I turn and run into a wall of fine Italian suit. Pleasure overtakes me at a familiar masculine scent, and I throw my arms around the man’s neck before my brain registers what this means.

I’ve been found. Caught.

“Alex!” I breathe.

My father’s right-hand man. His soldier, bodyguard, protégé—whatever you want to call him.

I don’t mean to fling myself at him, but my body control isn’t the best. Oh, who am I kidding? I totally want to plaster myself all over this man.

He’s been the subject of my schoolgirl crushes since I was fifteen.

Strong, handsome, powerful, sexy. Italian. He’s everything I love in a man. And he’s off limits. Or rather, as a mafia princess with a marriage contract to another family, I’ve been off limits to him.

Which meant no matter how much I flirted or attempted to provoke him, he never showed any interest beyond the smolder of desire I swore burned in his gaze. But then, he might give every girl those sizzling looks, because I’m pretty sure he’s a huge player.

His iron arm bands around my waist, presumably to hold me up, since I’m not doing a great job of it myself, but I take it as an invitation and lift my legs to wrap around his waist.

“That’s it, bambina.” He’s never called me baby before and the pleasure of it ripples through me as he shifts his forearm under my ass, turns and walks swiftly toward the door.

By the time my brain catches on to what’s happening, we’re off the dance floor and almost out of the nightclub. “Wait!” I try to get down. I guess when I attached myself to him in greeting, I was angling for some sexy dancing out on the floor. But Alex is all business, and if he thinks he’s dragging me back to Chicago to face my father, he’s going to have a fight on his hands.

I kick and thrash and suddenly Yuri, the huge, tattooed Russian who sits and watches the DJ, Lucy, every night with a moon face, steps in front of us, blocking Alex.

“Put girl down.” His accent is as thick as his meaty arms.

You gotta love Yuri. I’m ninety-nine point nine percent sure he’s ex-mafia, too. Or bratva—whatever they call Russian mafiya. His tattoos read like a rap sheet and when he’s not looking moony at Lucy, his expression promises death to anyone who gets in his way or looks too long at his girl.

Alex’s body, already rigid, goes even tighter. He lowers me slowly to my feet, I suppose so he has his hands free to fight.

I thrust my body between them, but Alex effortlessly pushes me behind him.

“It’s okay, Yuri.” Damn, I’m slurring a bit. I pat Alex’s well-dressed arm. “He’s mine. I mean—he’s with me. I’m with him. He can take me now.”

Yuri cracks his knuckles. “You know this guy? He’s not safe.”

I actually hear Alex growl beside me.

“He’s safe for me,” I say quickly. “Not for other people.” Definitely not for you. I take Alex’s arm, anxious to get out of there without any bloodshed. “Let us pass, Yuri.”

Yuri’s eyes narrow, but after two beats, he steps aside.

Alex doesn’t take his menacing glare off the guy until we’re long past, then he swoops me back up, carrying me toddler style on his hip.

“This is fun.” I sit even taller and kick my feet like a happy tot. It’s a ridiculous position, but I love it.

“I would throw you over my fucking shoulder, but I’m afraid you’d puke on my heels,” Alex grumbles.

I giggle and tangle my fingers in his thick, dark hair. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I already know I’m going to be embarrassed about my behavior tomorrow, but in this moment, it’s too pleasurable to be this close to Alex with my inhibitions down.

Apparently he’s cased me out, because he walks the block back to my hotel and goes straight to my suite, where he waits for me to fumble in the tiny cross-shoulder purse for the key. I accidentally drop it and only then does he put me down.

I’m drunk, so I’m probably making stuff up, but I like to think he enjoyed carrying me as much as I loved straddling his waist. Of course, I’d like to straddle his waist in a whole different configuration, but that probably won’t happen.

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Ace of Hearts Read Online Renee Rose (Vegas Underground #3) http://www.wownovels.com/ace-of-hearts-3-read-online-renee-rose Wed, 27 Sep 2017 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/ace-of-hearts-3-read-online-renee-rose Genre: BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Romance Authors: Renee Rose Series: Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 48371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Ace of Hearts (Vegas Underground #3)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Renee Rose
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B07HVTQTDV
Book Information:
"I hit the jackpot with this sexy page turner." ~USA Today Bestselling Author Vanessa Vale THE SWEET LITTLE SONGBIRD'S IN MY CAGE NOW. She owes the Family money. Big money. And I'm the guy they sent to put the squeeze on her. So now she's playing at my casino. Strutting around on my stage in her tight little shorts. Killing me softly. I promised she'll be treated with respect, so long as she does as she's told. But I didn't count on her barging in my office and tempting me, begging for a taste of my authority. I didn't count on her getting under my skin. And the last thing I want is to see her debt paid. Because then I'd have to set her free... Note: This steamy stand-alone romance is the third in USA Today bestselling author Renee Rose's Vegas Underground series. No cheating, no cliffhangers.
Books in Series:	Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose
Books by Author:	Renee Rose Books

Chapter 1

Pepper

You know your career’s reached a new low when you’re booked for eight weeks in Vegas.

I stare at the giant neon marquee with my name in lights as the limo pulls up to the Bellissimo Casino and Hotel. I don’t care if the Bellissimo is the swankiest, hippest place in Sin City, it’s still Vegas. The shithole performers go to for low stress, easy money. Usually after they’re burned out.

So why the hell am I here twenty months after the release of an album and less than fourteen hours after the last performance of a grueling tour?

Because Hugh, my asshole manager, sold me out.

And now my parents, Hugh and I are in a world of trouble only I can fix.

Anton, my bodyguard, gets out first, then offers a hand to help me. I ignore it, because, yeah—I’m twenty-three, so fully capable of getting out of a car on my own, and not prissy enough to want help, although I appreciate the gesture. I climb out and shake down the skirt of my strappy, babydoll dress, which I paired with a beat up pair of brick red Doc Martens, and pop my earbuds out, the RadioHead album still playing.

A forty-something woman in a blue dress and heels clips out of the door, making a beeline for Hugh. Behind her, a huge, broad-shouldered man stands just outside the gold-trimmed door watching.

Watching me.

That’s not unusual. I’m the pop star, after all, but it’s the way he watches that sends rockets of warning shooting through my veins. His unimpressed, quiet observation and fine Italian suit give him away.

He’s Tony Brando, the man who now owns me.

I recognize him. He showed up to my concert in Vancouver, and again in Denver.

He’s the reason we’re here, despite the fact that I’m three hours from a total collapse, about to lose my voice and in desperate need of some alone time.

Of course, even if the mob wasn’t after me for close to a million dollars, Hugh probably would still have me booked until the next century. My well-being never factored into his or my parents’ plans for my career.

I told Hugh two years ago I needed a break. Time to find my muse again and make the music that catapulted me into stardom in the first place. I wanted to hole up in a studio to record my next album, which would fix the cash flow problem my parents were in after some bad investments last year.

But Hugh had a sure-fire scheme.

An idiotic, dangerous plan that my parents and I blindly trusted him to execute.

“Welcome, Ms. Heart. I’m Angela Torrino, Director of Events. The Bellissimo is so thrilled to have you, as you can see.” She gestures to the hundred-foot neon sign out on the strip with my name in lights.

I shake her hand and try to force a smile. Try not to glance at the pinstriped suit lurking behind her.

Hugh trots around and takes over, as always. “Thanks for making the arrangements, Ms. Torrino.” He pumps her hand. “Now, if you can get us access to the stage, we’ll start loading in so Pepper can rehearse before her performance tonight.”

Right. Rehearse—now. Because lord knows it’s a sacrilege to actually have one day of rest after traveling before I perform. Or even an hour.

I follow Hugh and Ms. Torrino toward the hotel/casino doors, Anton right behind me and slightly to my left.

Ms. Torrino stops to introduce Hugh to the large man in the doorway. Brando ignores her and steps forward. His movements are graceful for a man at least six and a half feet tall. His gaze is clearly on my face, and not in the wow-I’m-meeting-the-famous-young-rock star-Pepper-Heart way. No, it’s more a big bad wolf surveying his prey.

His gaze skims over my mouth, then lower, to my braless breasts and on down my bare legs. Then back up again at a more leisurely pace, finally resting on my eyes.

I’m pretty sure he likes what he sees, but he doesn’t leer. The smirk on his mouth is more one of satisfaction, like I’m a fine wine that’s just been delivered to him and he’s savoring my bouquet.

My stomach knots.

“Ms. Heart, this is Antonio Brando, one of the directors of operations here at the Bellissimo,” Ms. Torrino chirps from behind him. I’d like to say his big scary visage makes him ugly, but it would be a lie. Even with the light lines of scars marring his rugged jaw, forehead, and left cheek, he’s beautiful. Like some sort of Roman demi-god sent to Earth to rip apart men and conquer women until the lowly humans have all been tamed.

He doesn’t offer his hand. I don’t either. In fact, I give him my best fuck you stare—the one I usually reserve for Hugh.

“I’m looking forward to your show tonight.” His baritone moves through me, vibrating right between my thighs.

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Jack of Spades Read Online Renee Rose (Vegas Underground #2) http://www.wownovels.com/jack-of-spades-2-read-online-renee-rose Thu, 10 Aug 2017 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/jack-of-spades-2-read-online-renee-rose Genre: Crime, Funny, Romance Authors: Renee Rose Series: Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Jack of Spades (Vegas Underground #2)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Renee Rose
Language:	English
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“YOU’RE AT MY MERCY NOW, AMORE.” Sorry, bella. You got dealt the losing hand. Witness to a crime, you’re my prisoner now. I didn’t mean for things to happen this way, But tying you to my bed and making you scream is an unexpected pleasure. A privilege, really. And even if I did trust you, now that I’ve had a taste, I’m not sure I’d let you go... Jack of Spades is a stand-alone romance in the interconnected Vegas Underground series. No cliffhangers, no cheating.
Books in Series:	Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose
Books by Author:	Renee Rose Books

Chapter 1

Corey

Three kinds of gamblers spend big at my roulette table.

There’s the guy who’s all up in his head. He’s quiet, body language closed. He sits with hunched shoulders and barely meets my eye. He plays odds, usually has a system he sticks to religiously. Like he always plays red and doubles his bet when he loses.

Then there’s the reckless gambler. He’s riding emotion, drugs or alcohol. He’s the opposite of the first kind. No system, totally haphazard. He might ask the woman beside him for her favorite number and bet it.

Then, there’s the gut gambler, my personal favorite. He carries an electricity with him that often carries the entire table away. It’s the guy who’s found the magic. Lady Luck, mojo, their stars aligning—who knows what it is, but they have an energy they’re following. They stay in the flow, following their intuition and bet right every time.

Often they appear similar to reckless gamblers: they’re outgoing, social. They engage with the people around them, including me, their croupier.

The whale—that’s Vegas for big spender—at my table tonight is neither reckless, nor a gut gambler, although he has the personality and style of both. He’s gorgeous with a finely tailored suit and European flair, like he stepped off the pages of an Italian men’s magazine. He flirts shamelessly with me and chats up the people around him.

I scoop and stack the chips and award the winnings with practiced finesse, doing a one-handed split and stack and moving with lightning speed.

“There she goes, beauty and talent.”

It’s cheesy, but I flash him a smile. I like having him at my table, love his charm and flair, the big tips, yet my spidey sense keeps sounding. There’s something off about him.

He’s down two thousand at the moment. He slides his chips out onto the table at the last minute, right as I wave my hand and call no more bets. He sets them up sloppily, too. I can’t tell if he wants them in the box for Third Twelve or Odd.

“Which one, sir?” I lean forward to get his attention as the wheel spins.

He’s been drinking quite a bit, but he doesn’t appear intoxicated. His eyes flick to my cleavage—which I still manage to work despite the masculine uniform—then back to my face before he gives me a slow, good-natured grin. “Odds, please. Sorry for that.”

“No slop,” I warn, and scoot the chips over as the ball settles.

He wins. He slides two hundred-dollar chips across the table to me as a tip. When I pull his chips in, I see he’s embedded a ten dollar chip in the middle instead of a hundred. I flick my gaze up and see he’s watching me. He winks.

Asshole.

I subtly signal for Security to come over.

It’s not the first time I’ve been propositioned to cheat for a customer. It happens often enough. It sort of boggles my mind that he’d spend two hundred bucks paying me off to make ninety. But I suppose it was a test. Once he found out if I’d give him anything, he would’ve tried it again and again.

Vincent, the security manager on the floor tonight ambles over and stands close to me, dipping his head to listen.

“This guy’s playing slop and trying to slip low chips in his stack.”

Later, I would realize Vincent seemed a little too pleased with me, but it doesn’t register. I’m just ignoring the flutters in my belly as he walks around to escort the dude out. I’m not sorry. I did the right thing, for sure. I’m only disappointed because the guy was attractive and sort of fascinating to me, and I’d fantasized for just a moment about him asking me out.

But whatever. I’m not going to risk this job, not even for a sexy man in a sharp suit. Working at the Bellissimo is like a job, education and socialization all rolled into one glamorous package. It’s owned by the notorious Nico Tacone, of the Tacone Chicago crime family, who rules the place with an iron fist. I wouldn’t fuck with him. Even if he is in love with my cousin.

I finish my shift and head toward the employee locker rooms. When I pass the hallway toward the security offices, I stop short.

Vincent is standing in a relaxed posture, shooting the shit with none other than the sexy suit from my table.

“Corey,” he grins and beckons me closer. “Come here, I want to introduce you to someone.”

Oh Jesus. He was a secret shopper. Or whatever you call a security test. I don’t know why it pisses me off, but it does. My stomach tightens up into a knot as I stride over.

“Corey, meet Stefano Tacone, our new Head of Security.”

I lift my hand to slap Stefano’s face. I don’t know why I do it. Yes, I have a redhead’s temper and I grew up in a violent family. Still, I should know better.

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King of Diamonds Read Online Renee Rose (Vegas Underground #1) http://www.wownovels.com/king-of-diamonds-1-read-online-renee-rose Fri, 07 Jul 2017 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/king-of-diamonds-1-read-online-renee-rose Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Romance Authors: Renee Rose Series: Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	King of Diamonds (Vegas Underground #1)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Renee Rose
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B07DGLSXH6
Book Information:
I WARNED YOU. I told you not to set foot in my casino again. I told you to stay away. Because if I see those hips swinging around my suite, I’ll pin you against the wall and take you hard. And once I make you mine, I’m not gonna set you free. I’m king of the Vegas underground and I take what I want. So run. Stay the hell away from my casino. >Or I’ll tie you to my bed. Put you on your knees. Break you. So come to me, beautiful, if you dare...
Books in Series:	Vegas Underground Series by Renee Rose
Books by Author:	Renee Rose Books

Chapter 1

Sondra

I tug down the hem of my one-piece, zippered housekeeping uniform dress. The Pepto Bismol pink number comes to my upper thighs and fits like a glove, hugging my curves, showing off my cleavage. Clearly, the owners of the Bellissimo Hotel and Casino want their maids to look as hot as their cocktail girls.

I went with it. I’m wearing a pair of platform-heeled wrap-arounds comfortable enough to clean rooms in, but sexy enough to show off the muscles in my legs, and I pulled my shoulder-length blonde hair into two fluffy pigtails.

When in Vegas, right?

My feminist friends from grad school would have a fit with this.

I push the not-so-little housekeeping cart down the hallway of the grand hotel portion of the casino. I spent all morning cleaning people’s messes. And let me tell you, the messes in Vegas are big. Drug paraphernalia. Semen. Condoms. Blood. And this is an expensive, high-class place. I’ve only worked here two weeks and I’ve already seen all that and more.

I work fast. Some of the maids recommend taking your time so you don’t get overloaded, but I still hope to impress someone at the Bellissimo into giving me a better job. Hence dressing like the casino version of the French maid fantasy.

Dolling myself up was probably prompted by what my cousin Corey dubs, The Voice of Wrong. I have the opposite of a sixth sense or voice of reason, especially when it comes to the male half of the population.

Why else would I be broke and on the rebound from the two-timing party boy I left in Reno? I’m a smart woman. I have a master’s degree. I had a decent adjunct faculty position and a bright future.

But when I realized all my suspicions about Tanner cheating on me were true, I packed the Subaru I shared with him and left for Vegas to stay with Corey, who promised to get me a job dealing cards with her here.

But there aren’t any dealer jobs available at the moment—only housekeeping. So now I’m at the bottom of the totem pole, broke, single, and without a set of wheels because my car got totaled in a hit and run the day I arrived.

Not that I plan to stay here long-term. I’m just testing the waters in Vegas. If I like it, I’ll apply for adjunct college teaching jobs. I’ve even considered substitute teaching high school once I have the wheels to get around.

If I’m able to land a dealer job, though, I’ll take it because the money would be three times what I’d make in the public school system. Which is a tragedy to be discussed on another day.

I head back into the main supply area which doubles as my boss’ office and load up my cart in the housekeeping cave, stacking towels and soap boxes in neat rows.

“Oh for God’s sake.” Marissa, my supervisor, shoves her phone in the pocket of her housekeeping dress. A hot forty-two-year-old, she fills hers out in all the right places, making it look like a dress she chose to wear, rather than a uniform. “I have four people out sick today. Now I have to go do the bosses’ suites myself,” she groans.

I perk up. I know—that’s The Voice of Wrong. I have a morbid fascination with everything mafioso. Like, I’ve watched every episode of The Sopranos and have memorized the script from The Godfather.

“You mean the Tacones’ rooms? I’ll do them.” It’s stupid, but I want a glimpse of them. What do real mafia men look like? Al Pacino? James Gandolfini? Or are they just ordinary guys? Maybe I’ve already passed them while pushing my cart around.

“I wish, but you can’t. It’s a special security clearance thing. And believe me—you don’t want to. They are super paranoid and picky as hell. You can’t look at the wrong thing without getting ripped a new one. They definitely wouldn’t want to see anyone new up there. I’d probably lose my job over it, as a matter of fact.”

I should be daunted, but this news only adds to the mystique I created in my mind around these men. “Well, I’m willing and available, if you want me to. I already finished my hallway. Or I could go with you and help? Make it go faster?”

I see my suggestion worming through her objections. Interest flits over her face, followed by more consternation.

I adopt a hopeful-helpful expression.

“Well, maybe that would be all right...I’d be supervising you, after all.”

Yes! I’m dying of curiosity to see the mafia bosses up close. Foolish, I know, but I can’t help it. I want to text Corey to tell her the news, but there isn’t time. Corey knows all about my fascination, since I already pumped her for information.

Marissa loads a few other things on my cart and we head off together for the special bank of elevators—the only ones that go all the way to the top of the building and require a keycard to access.

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