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    High Roller (Book 1): A Mafia Romance, #1
    High Roller (Book 1): A Mafia Romance, #1
    High Roller (Book 1): A Mafia Romance, #1
    Ebook121 pages1 hour

    High Roller (Book 1): A Mafia Romance, #1

    By Heather West

    4.5/5

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    This is book 1 of the High Roller Mafia Romance series! Books 2 and 3 are available everywhere now!

    I'm hunting down my secret baby's mother.

    I'm a killer, plain and simple.

    Being this ruthless is the only way to make it in the criminal underworld.

    There's not a damn man on this planet who can take from me what's mine.

    And make no mistake: Isabella belongs to me.

    From the first night I owned her, I left my mark.

    On her body.

    On her heart.

    And in her womb.

    But the timid, curvy waitress is more important than I realized.

    She's got a secret past that neither her nor I fully understood.

    And now, my dying mob boss father orders me to find her.

    If I want to become the mafia leader I was born to be, I cannot fail.

    I need to hunt down the woman bearing my baby…

    Before my enemies get to her first.

    The stakes have never been higher.

    But let this be known:

    I'll kill to keep her safe.

    Even if it destroys us both.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSopris Page Press
    Release dateSep 19, 2019
    ISBN9781393196051
    High Roller (Book 1): A Mafia Romance, #1

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    Reviews for High Roller (Book 1)

    4.5/5

    17 ratings1 review

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    • 3/5
      Isabella is a weak, doormat desperate for love, attention and affection. So much so she doesn't stand up or speak up for herself, it's pretty annoying how she let's people talk to her and treat her and she says and does nothing about it and continues to still be desperate for their attention. Zane is a A**hole. Plain and simple. He's a selfish jerk who so far has treated the mfc like trash yet feels entitled to her body and in a way her loyalty. So far the plot is interesting but I'm not a fan of any characters especially not the pathetic main ones. I really hope they have a redeeming story arc with character growth throughout the rest of the series. Some strength,dignity and backbone for her and some humbleness, maturity, and overall personality transplant for him

      1 person found this helpful

    Book preview

    High Roller (Book 1) - Heather West

    High Roller: A Mafia Romance (Book 1)

    By Heather West

    I’m hunting down my secret baby’s mother.

    I’M A KILLER, PLAIN and simple.

    Being this ruthless is the only way to make it in the criminal underworld.

    There’s not a damn man on this planet who can take from me what’s mine.

    And make no mistake: Isabella belongs to me.

    From the first night I owned her, I left my mark.

    On her body.

    On her heart.

    And in her womb.

    But the timid, curvy waitress is more important than I realized.

    She’s got a secret past that neither her nor I fully understood.

    And now, my dying mob boss father orders me to find her.

    If I want to become the mafia leader I was born to be, I cannot fail.

    I need to hunt down the woman bearing my baby...

    Before my enemies get to her first.

    The stakes have never been higher.

    But let this be known:

    I’ll kill to keep her safe.

    Even if it destroys us both.

    Chapter 1

    Isabella

    Iflashed a smile at myself in the mirror, trying to buoy my confidence. It didn’t work — I felt just as unattractive as before. It was towards the end of summer, one of the last really brutally hot days I thought we’d be getting. Outside, the temperature had held fast at over ninety degrees for a week now. I shuddered; every time I stepped outside, a faint sheen of perspiration broke out over my body. The heat made me feel weak, sluggish. I could barely move without sweating like a pig. It wasn’t fair. I was a woman. Weren’t women supposed to sweat less?

    I sighed loudly and felt my bangs rise up in the humid air with the force of my exhalation. No matter how I wanted to look at it, I was still Isabella Bianchi. Blonde hair, straight nose, slightly crooked mouth. And tits for days, I thought as I stretched. I grimaced. Men loved to stare at my curves, but men didn’t have to walk around with giant bags strapped to their chests until their backs were aching. Stop being so melodramatic, I told myself. It’s just another long shift. You’ll get through it. You’ll be fine.

    I’d been waitressing at Maison Bridges for almost two years now. Originally, when I was hired, I didn’t think I’d be there more than a month. I’d told the owner, Ricardo, I thought my singing career was just about to take off. He’d nodded with a grin partially concealed on his broad face. At the time, I’d been angry he hadn’t taken me seriously. But time had proven Ricardo right and me wrong, and there was really no other way to look at it. That was back when I was singing a few nights a week at this little club in Brooklyn. It had been a two-hour drive from where I lived in New Jersey, but it was worth it every time. The audience, while not huge, was always appreciative. And the little man who ran the club had a crush on me, so he let me take longer sets than the other girls. I really thought I was on my way to fame.

    That was when I’d met Kyle. Kyle DeLuca, the fastest talking asshole I’d ever met. He was charming, too. With his blond hair and blue eyes, girls mooned over him whenever he stepped foot in the club. But, seemingly, he only had eyes for me. I remembered the first night we’d met.

    You’re beautiful, he said. I’ve been watching you all night. You really know how to draw people in.

    I blushed. Thank you, I said as sweetly as I could. He winked at me and I felt my heart slow to a stop. I’ve never seen you in here before. Are you local?

    The gorgeous blond man threw his head back and roared with laughter. Sweetie, it’s New York. Is anyone really local here?

    I giggled nervously. I live in Jersey, I admitted. I bet that makes me less beautiful, huh? I was so used to men flirting with me until they found out I lived in Jersey. It was like a stain on my face, something unavoidably unattractive. I couldn’t figure it out — most of the people in NYC had come from Jersey. So, what made me so bad?

    Nah, the man replied. It makes you human, like all of us. He winked at me. So, have you always lived in Jersey?

    I nodded. I was relieved he wasn’t turned off, but it was almost suspect. What about you?

    The man grinned. Honey, I’m from everywhere, he said in a low drawl. But I happened to wind up in a big city. It’s the only place you can be really anonymous, you know?

    I nodded again. I did know. Being alone, really alone, was something I’d felt for almost my entire life. But back in the sleepy little town of Morris, I didn’t feel nearly as alone as I did every time I made the journey across the river to New York City. There was something about all of the lights and the buildings. On a dark night, I felt like I was going to be swallowed up by the landscape. It was so intimidating, so incredibly powerful and big.

    I’m Kyle, the man said. Kyle DeLuca.

    Isabella, I said softly, slipping my hand into Kyle’s giant paw. Isabella Bianchi.

    The man hooted. And you’re Italian, too! Damn, have I struck gold! He laughed again and I felt a warm blush spread over my cheeks. You’re blonde and you’re Italian? He shook his head, still chuckling. You’re perfect, did anyone ever tell you that? You’re a perfect angel. Kyle waved the bartender over. To him, he said, Barkeep, this woman is a beauty. You seen her before?

    Oh, yes, the bartender replied. She sings here every week. He smiled at me. And she likes gin and tonics; isn’t that right, Isabella?

    I nodded shyly. I do, I admitted. But I have to drive home tonight, so I really shouldn’t have any more to drink.

    Two gin and tonics, Kyle said. He winked at me. I’ll keep you company. I promise I’ll let you go after one drink.

    Except he didn’t let me go, not after one drink, and not after ten. After the second cocktail, we were finding ourselves even closer together, our heads nuzzling and bumping. I felt my skin growing prickly and hot with arousal and the warmth of the alcohol. When our lips finally met, it was like stars exploded in my head.

    I’m taking you back with me, Kyle said gruffly. Come on.

    I shivered as I followed him out of the bar. Kyle led me to a motel across the street and we made love all night. I shrieked every time he plunged his hard cock inside of me like I’d never been with a man before. Kyle was so loving, so skilled. He worshipped my body. In his hands, I felt like I was made out of gold and diamonds. I’d never been treated like such a precious commodity before.

    In the morning, everything felt shy and new. Are you feeling okay? Kyle looked at me. You seem quiet.

    I don’t normally do that, I confessed. I’ve never had a one-night stand before.

    Kyle crossed the room in a quick stretch. He lifted my chin up and looked deep in my eyes. You think that’s all this was? A one-night stand?

    I shrugged. I’ve learned not to expect much from men. I winced as soon as I’d said it; the remark sounded more callous than anything I’d intended. But I meant it. I’d been fooled by men like Kyle before. And sooner or later, all of them disappeared.

    Kyle pursed his lips. He sat down on the bed and gazed deeply into my eyes.

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