Chicago Sin Series by Alta Hensley – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Chicago Sin Series by Alta Hensley – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Sat, 24 Jun 2023 21:48:04 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Chicago Sin Series by Alta Hensley – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Rooted in Sin (Chicago Sin #2) Read Online Alta Hensley, Renee Rose http://www.ilovenovels.com/rooted-in-sin-chicago-sin-2-read-online-alta-hensley-renee-rose Sat, 24 Jun 2023 21:48:04 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/rooted-in-sin-chicago-sin-2-read-online-alta-hensley-renee-rose Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Erotic, Mafia Authors: Alta Hensley, Renee Rose Series: Chicago Sin Series by Alta Hensley
Series: Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)

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Once you are rooted in sin, there is no turning back.
She wasn’t supposed to be in the crossfire.
My enemies should not also be hers.
My past is dark, and my demons are dangerous.
I should let her be free, safe from the shadows that still haunt me.
But I can’t let her go.
My obsession is too strong.
She’s mine even though she’s a possession I shouldn’t keep.
But I of all people should know, that the mafia doesn’t let anyone go.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Hannah

A car screeches into the alleyway behind Garden of Eden, my flower shop.

Armando’s cousin, Marco, who was stationed in the alleyway to protect me, whirls, hand reaching for the gun strapped to his side.

I instinctively flinch, my heart stopping. A guy leans out of the open window, gun raised and aimed directly at us. Time seems to slow as Marco's eyes widen with realization. “Get down!” He lunges toward me, throwing me to the cold concrete ground behind the garbage dumpster.

Marco’s body shields mine as the deafening sound of gunfire fills the alleyway. He lifts his gun to return fire, but before he can, he’s hit.

Pain flares in his eyes. His body jerks.

I scream. Blood splatters everywhere, and some of it pools on my legs, hot and sticky.

“Marco!” My voice is barely audible over the cacophony of gunfire hitting the metal dumpster.

My hands tremble as I reach out to touch him, the reality of the situation sinking in. This is no random act of violence—we were targeted.

“Stay down,” he grits through clenched teeth, his body trembling from shock or adrenaline.

Even as his blood pools between us, he never takes his eyes off me, as if determined to protect me at all costs.

Oh God.

I’ve already seen one man die in the last week. Already been exposed to the violence of Armando’s life. But that death felt surreal. Like watching a movie. Marco is a man I know. Armando’s cousin. If he dies–

No, I can’t even think it. He’s still breathing. He seems alert.

Voices shout from the car, "That's not him" and "Go! Go! Go! Go!” It speeds away, leaving a cloud of dust and the sound of squealing tires as the only evidence of the drive-by.

That’s not him.

They were trying to kill Armando, and they came to my shop. To the alleyway behind it. Does that mean they’ve connected me to him?

Is he no longer safe in my apartment?

That thought chokes me.

Marco's blood keeps draining, staining my clothes and skin. He groans and rolls partway off me, trying to push himself up.

“Take it easy. I’ll call for help.”

I search for my phone and see it cast to the side. Armando. I was speaking to Armando before this all happened.

“Armando!” I cry out, trying to pull my legs out from under Marco’s. “Armando, Marco’s hit!” Maybe he can still hear what's happening and now knows we are both alive but in danger.

Almost as if summoned by my voice, Armando appears at the mouth of the alleyway, his eyes wide with panic. He takes in the scene before him—Marco injured and me covered in blood and shaking uncontrollably.

"Hannah!" He runs to us, but his gaze is only on me.

“I'm okay, but Marco's hit."

“Madonna mia, what the fuck happened?” He crouches beside us, his hands hovering over Marco, like he’s unsure where to touch or how to help. Fear is etched on his pale face, a vulnerability I've never seen from him before.

“Your buddies,” Marco groans, shifting to sit up and gritting his teeth against the pain. “They came out of nowhere.”

“Did you get a chance to see who they were?” Armando demands. I can see the gears turning in his head, already planning retaliation.

“I-I don't know,” I stammer, still in shock. “I didn't see their faces.”

“Fuck.” Armando's gaze shifts between Marco and me, his concern palpable. “We need to get you both somewhere safe. Can you walk?”

“Of course I can walk,” Marco scoffs, trying to climb to his feet. His face contorts with pain, and he collapses back onto the ground. Armando's jaw clenches, and he picks up Marco’s arm to wrap around his shoulder, heaving him to his feet.

“Yeah, you're not walking anywhere like this.”

I move to the other side of Marco to help. Together, we manage to hoist Marco to his feet, each of us taking one of his arms over our shoulders.

“Mando,” Marco says quietly, his voice strained. “I didn’t see it coming.”

“We’ll worry about that later,” Armando clips. “Right now, we need to focus on getting you both out of here.”

As we half-carry, half-drag Marco out of the alleyway toward my shop, my thoughts whirl with a gut-wrenching realization: my life has become irrevocably intertwined with this dangerous world and the man who brought me into it. Not that witnessing him kill a man with his bare hands hadn’t already bound us together.

Blood soaks the back of Marco’s leg, and I see Armando take it in, his nostrils flaring. “We need to get you to the hospital,” he says.

“I'm fine,” Marco insists through gritted teeth as I try to steady him on his feet. “Just get one of the guys to dig the bullet out.”

“Shut up,” Armando snaps. “I’m taking you to the hospital. Give me your keys.” He props his cousin up against the brick wall by my back door.

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Den of Sins (Chicago Sin #1) Read Online Alta Hensley, Renee Rose http://www.ilovenovels.com/den-of-sins-chicago-sin-1-read-online-alta-hensley-renee-rose Mon, 01 May 2023 20:22:44 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/den-of-sins-chicago-sin-1-read-online-alta-hensley-renee-rose Genre: Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Suspense Authors: Alta Hensley, Renee Rose Series: Chicago Sin Series by Alta Hensley
Series: Chicago Sin Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)

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I’m like a feral animal. A wild beast rutting. And she’s my prey.
One week out of prison, and my mind’s still locked up.
My heart, my soul—they died there.
When a mafia hitman comes after me, I end him with my bare hands.
But the beautiful florist witnesses my crime.
I have no shame tying her up and making her my prisoner.
Until she kisses me. Offers up that sweet body and makes me needy for more.
And then all bets are off.
She’s coming with me.
I can’t let her go.
My soul may be unsalvageable, forever living in a den of sin.
But the rest of me knows what it wants.
And I want her.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Armando

Is a sinner ever free?

Regardless of the answer, I’m as close as you can get. I’m no longer trapped in a cage.

The prison gates open, and I walk out with nothing but a paper bag that contains the few belongings I came in with.

My cousin, Marco, waits for me, standing in front of his SUV with an overly expressive smile on his face. I know him well enough to see right through it. Sure, he’s happy to see me, but he’s obviously uncomfortable.

Can’t say I blame him.

Marco visited me here on occasion. He would drive up from Chicago, our hometown an hour away, to spend an hour updating me on what was going on with the Outfit. He, and sometimes his brother Leo, are the only ones who visited out of the La Famiglia.

Again, something I understood.

Prison could be contagious. No one wants to catch it.

It’s a plague that once transmitted is hard to treat.

Even my mother didn’t visit—not being able to handle seeing her son treated like an animal. Her words, not mine.

As I hesitate outside of the prison gates, Marco eventually steps forward, breaking the silence. “It’s good to see you,” he says, finally giving up his painted smile.

“Yeah.” I'm not sure I’m up for small talk yet.

Marco seems to understand and moves on quickly, motioning to the car. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

We both climb into the vehicle, and Marco starts the drive back to the city.

I stare out the window, seeing nothing. Apparently hearing nothing until I realize Marco has been talking the whole time.

“...when you hit Rocco’s for a haircut and shave Friday. It’s the same old crew, of course, but I’ll bet they give you priority in the barber’s chair…. The florist shop is still next door, but Mary Alice sold the place to her apprentice, Hannah. Remember her? She was just a kid when you left, but she’s hot as fuck now….”

I tune him out. The places he’s talking about–our old familiar haunts–seem so far away and removed right now. I guess I’ll have to go there to feel anything.

“Some shit’s changed since you've been away,” Marco observes.

I don't answer, waiting for him to go on.

“The Outfit's getting more and more powerful, but it's losing its soul. A lot of the Made men are getting complacent. There's no more progress, you know? No old soul wisdom, as the don calls it.”

I absorb his words without comment. Marco is a smart guy. There's no one whose opinion I respect more, especially when it comes to Family business. He came into the Outfit about the same time I did, but he has good insight into it. He is far wiser than his age or experience.

He definitely possesses the old soul wisdom. Marco seems to be able to look at the organization objectively and notice what's really going on.

I try to focus on his words, on work, and on what will be my reality again now that I’m back in the fold of the family, but I fight an overwhelming tightness in my chest.

The sides of the SUV feel suffocating, reminding me of the prison cell.

I take a deep breath and crack the window. It's been a long time since I’ve been around anyone who hasn’t been jaded by the system. People in prison speak differently than people who are free.

Getting used to Marco—getting used to anyone—is going to be a challenge.

Fifty-four months. That’s how long I served in the state pen. My colorless existence between four concrete walls.

Longer than some members of the Outfit served. Shorter than others. I kept my mouth shut and did the time like I was supposed to. I also earned a business degree.

“Out on good behavior,” Marco huffs, as if he’s reading my mind. “Who would have thought?”

I don’t answer but think how ironic that is since I literally shanked a man in prison. Thankfully, I’m a Made Man, and the don kept me protected and out of trouble. Amazing how the mafia has the ability to make things simply disappear on the inside. The power inside the system may even be stronger than outside the concrete walls.

Noticing the white knuckles of Marco’s hands as he grips the steering wheel, I see I’m making him uncomfortable. I know why. I got pinched, and he didn’t. I served time while he remained free. I’ve felt the same way before. A survivor’s guilt of sorts when one of your own goes down for a family crime. It’s hard to face, and there is always a part of you that wonders when you’ll be next. It’s cliche to say that prison changes a man, but it’s fucking true.

Now, riding passenger in my cousin Marco’s car back in Chicago, I don’t experience the big joy of freedom. I note the sky. Tall buildings. The traffic. The noise and energy of the city that ate me up and shit me out. It elicits nothing. The familiar streets, familiar places evoke nothing of my old self. Of the young man I was before I did time. I’ve been numb the whole ride, having some kind of out-of-body experience with being on the outside. I’ve thought of this day since the day I went in, but now that it’s here, now that I’m out... I feel nothing at all. I’m dead to the experience.

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