Made Men Series by Renee Rose – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Made Men Series by Renee Rose – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Fri, 16 Dec 2022 07:44:03 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Made Men Series by Renee Rose – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Don’t Make Me (Made Men #3) Read Online Renee Rose http://www.ilovenovels.com/dont-make-me-made-men-3-read-online-renee-rose Fri, 16 Dec 2022 07:34:49 +0000 http://www.teennovels.net/dont-make-me-made-men-3-read-online-renee-rose Genre: BDSM, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Authors: Renee Rose Series: Made Men Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)

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HE'S FORBIDDEN TO TOUCH ME.
I'm the Don's daughter. A mafia princess. He's my father's right-hand man.

When Carlo catches me taking my clothes off in a strip club,
he wants to haul me into my father's office.
I suggest an alternative–one more pleasurable for both of us.
He can handle my punishment. Dominate me the way he's always wanted.
Take care of my needs and, most importantly, keep my secret.

But we're playing with fire.
Every day, I fall a little more for the underboss
and if my father finds out...
It won't just be my future destroyed.
It could mean Carlo's life.

This stand-alone romance has no cliff-hangers, no cheating. HEA guaranteed.

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

Prologue

Sicily

Carlo

Blood soaks my clothes—too much to show up at my great-uncle Junior’s front entrance. I slip around to the back and tap the heavy wooden door. I hope Zia Maria doesn’t answer, not that the old woman can’t handle the shock. Sicilian women—at least those in La Famiglia—are as tough as the men.

The door cracks, and the muzzle of a Glock points through followed by my uncle’s bushy white eyebrows.

“Carlo.” The door swings wide, and my uncle grabs me by the shirt and hauls me inside.

“Only some of it is mine.” I can’t get my damn ear to stop bleeding from the bullet that went through. The bullet that missed my skull by an inch.

“Get cleaned up before your aunt sees you.” The old man propels me to the bathroom. “I’ll bring you some clothes.”

I strip, the metallic smell of blood filling my nostrils. Ferdi’s blood. Fucking Ferdi. I left him alive after I beat the truth out of him.

Who tries to kill their own cousin? Ferdi, apparently.

I won’t. I didn’t. Ferdi’s soldier, though, is another story. I left a bullet in the middle of his forehead. Closing my eyes, I try to erase the sight.

I wash in the shower and dry off, barely managing to keep the continuous drip of blood from my ear from staining Zia Maria’s towel.

My uncle comes in without knocking and drops some clothes on the counter. He gives me an up-and-down sweep of the eyes, probably checking for bullet holes. “Just the ear?”

“Yeah.” I yank on the clothes.

“Who?” Junior hands me a washcloth and lifts his chin toward my still-bleeding ear.

“Ferdi.”

My uncle’s bushy eyebrows drew together. “Your cousin Ferdi? What happened?”

“Mario put a hit on me.” I somehow keep the waver from my voice, unprepared for the sense of betrayal rocketing through my chest. My own fucking brother. My fucking brother ordered me killed.

Junior’s face turns to stone, his eyes black and dangerous. It’s an expression I’ve seen on my father’s face countless times. The Sicilian war face. Calculating, deadly. “What happened? Wait, come out of the fucking bathroom. I’ll get you a drink.”

At the kitchen table, Junior pours both of us a glass of grappa, and we sit down.

“My dad named me Consiglieri. I think Mario thinks he might pick me to lead when he dies.” My chest tightens at the thought of my father, so diminished from the cancer now.

“I see.” My mom’s uncle isn’t part of the Romano business in Palermo, but his family has ties to them and runs their own network of semi-legal or illegal operations. He understands the dynamics. “What’s your plan?”

That is the fucking problem. I don’t have one.

Junior reads into the silence. “Are you going to tell your dad?”

I give my head a decisive shake. “Hell no. He’s on his deathbed. It would kill him, and he would die brokenhearted.”

“Let me ask you this, Carlo. Do you want to lead the family? I mean, how old are you? Twenty-three?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, I know you’re smart, and I’m sure you’re tough, but do you think the older guys are going to fall in line under you?”

I shrug. “I wasn’t trying to steal the power from Mario… or any of them.” Hell, I’m the fifth son, I never expected to be more than a capo. But as the youngest child, I have the special ability of reading people. Born from all that time observing from corners as a kid, I suppose. I see through bullshit, see into people. My father used that talent in the last few years, coming to me much more often than he did Mario or any of our other brothers.

We always were tight, me and my dad. I’m the baby of the family, after all. My dad wasn’t as much of a hard-ass with me as he was with my brothers; and more than that, my parents revered me as a special gift because I almost died during birth.

“Look, I don’t even know if my father would have shaken up the structure. But obviously, Mario was worried. So now I’m in a bad place.”

The soft pad of Zia Maria’s slippers scuffing the floor signal her approach from down the hall.

“It’s Carlo,” Junior calls to her.

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Don’t Tempt Me (Made Men #2) Read Online Renee Rose http://www.ilovenovels.com/dont-tempt-me-made-men-2-read-online-renee-rose Wed, 02 Nov 2022 21:49:59 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/dont-tempt-me-made-men-2-read-online-renee-rose Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia, Romance, Virgin Authors: Renee Rose Series: Made Men Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)

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The Family killed my father.
Destroyed my mother’s life.
Now its crown prince wants me.

I grew up in The Family, but I’m no mafia princess.
I’m the castaway they threw crumbs to after my father’s murder.
Now Joey LaTorre shows up at my door and won’t take no for an answer.
He’s the bad boy I crushed on as a teen–
Dangerously handsome.
Deliciously dominant.

But I can’t fall for a man like him. I won’t.
I’ll never return to La Cosa Nostra.
Even if he learns to unlock every secret to my body–
I must keep him away from my heart.

The book is a lengthened and revised version of the previously published story The Bossman.

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

Prologue

Sophie, age 14

The grave is empty.

That’s the fucked up part. We’re at a burial, but there’s no body in the casket they’re about to lower into the earth. No physical remains to mourn. The priest is up there doing his thing. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. But it’s all pretend.

Something’s wrong with me–I can’t seem to cry. Not a single tear. I just want to puke.

Without a body, the government doesn’t recognize my dad’s death, which I guess is a huge problem for my mom. Something about probate and life insurance. I heard the lawyer tell her it could take seven years before they’ll declare him dead.

Don Alberto says we’ll be taken care of, but my mom would rather stab a fork in his eye than be beholden to him. She believes he’s responsible for my dad’s disappearance.

Pauly, my dad’s capo, weeps openly. It’s weird to see a grown man cry so openly. Especially when the rest of the men in the Family appear stoic. My dad’s sister, my aunt Marie, also bawls loudly. My mom’s chin wobbles, but there’s murder in her eyes. She hates everyone here.

I wait for my moment to escape. The moment the casket’s in the ground and people start to move, I disappear, dodging behind a tall gravestone and sinking into the wet grass.

“Hey.”

I look up and see the crown prince–Don Alberto’s younger son. The beautiful one. I want to ignore him, but his presence is too much. He’s too gorgeous. Too commanding. He reaches a hand down to help me up, and even though I had no intention of moving, I find myself taking it.

“Want a ride?”

I’d rather the ground swallowed me up whole. I don’t want to be with anyone right now. Especially not members of the Family, but again, I find it impossible to refuse him. I guess riding with him is better than being near my mom right now.

Her rage and devastation are all-consuming. Being around her makes it even harder for me to function, and I already feel like I’m under water.

“Yeah. Thanks.” My voice sounds froggy. Maybe I am under water.

I follow him to his shiny black Mercedes convertible. It’s a two-seater, so I feel a bit like the funeral princess getting to ride with Family royalty. He holds the door open for me like we’re on a date. Like I’m not just the fourteen-year-old daughter of a guy their organization just offed.

Well, I don’t know if they offed my dad. But he died on their watch. Doing their dirty deeds. The only reason we even know he’s dead is that Don Alberto set up and paid for this funeral. My dad just didn’t come home one night. There was no call from a hospital. No visit from the police.

He just didn’t come home and when my mom called the don, he told her he was sorry.

That was it.

And I know because my mom has been ranting and screaming about Don Alberto and the LaTorre family non-stop in the seven days since.

“Where should we go?” Joey asks.

I look over, surprised. I thought he was going to drive me to his dad’s estate for the reception or whatever they call the gathering after a funeral.

“Anywhere you want. We don’t have to go to the house.”

For the first time in a week, something other than panic and grief shifts in my chest. It’s a sliver of gratitude. Suddenly, the tears that wouldn’t come during the funeral wet my lashes. “Then I’d say anywhere but the house.”

Joey pulls out, screeching the tires a little. He takes off, driving fast enough that I have to catch the door handle to hang on. The speed is pleasurable. A sensation that knocks away another chip of the grief I’m buried under.

I don’t know how long he drives. He doesn’t speak or seem to expect me to speak. He’s like the conductor on a weird journey. The one from my old life where I had a father to my new existence.

At some point, I realize he’s following the Jersey shore, and we end up at a lighthouse, where he parks and gets out, leaning casually against the hood of the car and staring out at the water like a model for a gentleman’s magazine. I sit in the car for a while watching him watch the sea, then get out and start walking. I walk straight into the water without taking off my black combat boots or lifting up the skirt of my long black dress. I walk until the cold water is at my waist, and I have to jump and bob with the waves that come in.

It helps. Like the speed, the change in physical sensation knocks another wedge of heaviness off my chest. I stand there for a long time, bobbing in the cold Atlantic, my teeth chattering, my skirt tangling around my legs.

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Don’t Tease Me (Made Men #1) Read Online Renee Rose http://www.ilovenovels.com/dont-tease-me-made-men-1-read-online-renee-rose Sat, 15 Oct 2022 22:39:18 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/dont-tease-me-made-men-1-read-online-renee-rose Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Authors: Renee Rose Series: Made Men Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)

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I own you now.
Desperate and alone, I strike a bargain with a mafia boss.
I make myself available to him, he pays my bills.
I’m his beck-and-call-girl. He’s my sugar daddy.
Bobby Manghini owns me–that’s our arrangement.

Giving myself to him is easy.
He may be older, but he’s sinfully sexy. Skillful in bed.
It’s a win-win for both of us, so long as I remember one thing:
Don’t fall in love.

Bobby calls the shots, but he doesn’t play for keeps.
I’m a toy, not his happily-ever-after.
The book is a lengthened and revised version of the previously published story Mob Mistress.

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

Chapter One

Lexi

I land in Newark with nothing but coffee in my belly and an ache in my chest.

I should be thrilled. It was my first week of my new corporate job with a hair product company–a huge step up for an independent hair stylist.

I just observed a three-day workshop held for a packed hotel conference room in Vegas. As part of my training, I’ll observe three more—in Denver, Los Angeles and Tucson, then take over as trainer, teaching them myself.

“Lexi Tyler?”

My head snaps up to find a grim-looking woman and blank-faced man dressed in suits blocking my way.

“Yes? What’s going on?”

The woman flashes an ID card at me. “I’m Tracy McGalicaster from the FBI. We’d like to ask you some questions.”

I try to peer around them, as if the answer lay in the carousel, with my suitcase. “Um...no, thanks,” I fumble.

“It’s not a choice,” McGaliscaster says drily. “Sully will get your bag. Come with me.”

I look around again, still somehow hoping someone might intervene, or explain they had the wrong person. The woman takes hold of my upper arm and begins to maneuver me through the airport and out to a waiting sedan.

Her companion arrives ten minutes later with my bag and climbs in beside me.

“What’s going on?”

“We’ll be asking the questions, Miss Tyler.”

“About what?”

Neither agent answers.

I chew on my lip.

Bobby.

They want information on Bobby. This is what I get for getting involved with a mob boss. I should’ve known better. Not only has he bludgeoned my heart, but now my head’s on the FBI’s chopping block.

Cold dread washes through me.

They take me to a small office with nothing but a few chairs and a table. “Sit,” the woman commands. Her chair scrapes the floor as she pulls it back, and the sound echoes against the blank walls.

I lick my dry lips, wishing I had a water bottle.

“Miss Tyler, you have been working as a hairstylist for how many years now?”

“Uh...twelve?”

“Are you asking me or answering me?”

I glare at the woman and say nothing.

She opens a file and shuffles some papers. “I have here your tax returns from the past twelve years. I have both state and federal. Never once, in all the twelve years did you claim any tips.”

“So?” I grit my teeth.

“So, I find that unusual. Are you really that terrible at what you do that no one–in twelve years–ever paid you a tip?”

I fold my arms across my chest and glare.

“That seems unlikely. A better answer is that you have been defrauding the government, Lexi.”

“That’s ridiculous!” I sputter. “How much do you believe I make in tips a year? Not enough to pay taxes on them, I can tell you that. Did you happen to notice how much I earn a year? I’m not exactly in the highest tax bracket.”

“It doesn’t matter. You owe all your back taxes, plus interest and penalties. Then there are the legal ramifications. Tax fraud is tax fraud, and this case will be easy to prove.”

I wait. I know there will be more.

“You’re looking at jail time. And somehow I doubt your new employer is going to keep you on when they find out you have to take a leave of absence.”

My fingernails dig into my arms where they tangled across my chest.

“Unless, of course, you choose to cooperate.”

I say nothing. I've watched too many cop shows to not guess exactly where this conversation leads.

“We’d like information on Bobby Manghini,” Sully says.

Chapter Two

Six Weeks Earlier

Bobby

I accept a Cuban cigar from my cousin Al and light it.

“You’re late, stronzo,” he busts my balls, even though the only thing I’m late for is a game of poker with the other Made Men. But it’s his right to be the ball-buster. As the don of the Family, he’s my boss and the guy I’ve looked up to my entire life.

“I know. Sorry. We had a shitshow at the office.” We’re in the private lounge at Swank, the nightclub built by my construction company as our outfit’s unofficial headquarters.

“Anything I need to know about?” Al chomps on his cigar and swirls the ice in his highball glass.

“Nah.” I shake my head. “Permit problems. The usual fuckery. Nothing I can’t handle.” I own and run the Family construction and real estate companies, which I keep mostly above-board, other than calling in favors and making deals with politicians. Joey launders the Family’s dirty money through my business and the nightclub.

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