Roman (Men of the Falls #2) Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia, Suspense, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Men of the Falls Series by Melanie Moreland

Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)

I rescued her because I had to. I fell in love with her because she gave me no choice.
Roman Costas
Powerful. Intensely private.
Cold. Dangerous.
When he unwittingly puts an innocent woman in danger, he does something he never planned.
Becomes involved.
He didn’t anticipate the feelings Effie Warner brought out in him.
He didn’t expect the woman he rescued to become his world.
All he knows is that he’ll burn down the city to keep her safe.
No matter the consequences.
The suspenseful finale in Men of the Falls duet by New York Times Bestselling author Melanie Moreland

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



Ipulled my glasses off my face, dropping them onto the stack of paperwork in front of me.

God, I hated paperwork. I rubbed my eyes and stood, walking to the large windows in front of me. Niagara Falls in all its glory met my gaze. Its never-ending rage mesmerized me. So much power from something as simple as water. A flowing stream, peaceful and calm, belied what danger lurked beneath it at the end.

Much like me.

That odd thought made me laugh, and I shook my head at my wayward thoughts, strolling to the bar and pouring a finger of scotch. I tossed it back, the liquid gold coating my throat and helping to ease the tension in my shoulders. I set down the glass before I was tempted to have another. It was only eleven in the morning, and although I could handle my liquor, I didn’t want to be drinking this early in the day by myself. If my right hand were here, he’d be happy to sip some scotch and talk shit for a while, but the bastard was away on his honeymoon, leaving me short my most trusted employee, which was beginning to cause issues.

I glanced at my desk and the necessary evil that waited for me. Despite hating the paperwork, I liked what it showed me. Our bottom line was strong. Ironclad. It grew monthly. Our holdings were vast and diversified. Aside from the money we laundered through the casinos, the businesses themselves made my brother and me very wealthy.

I sat down, almost grateful for the knock at the door that interrupted me.

“In,” I called.

The door opened, and Franco stepped inside. I tamped down my impatience. “What?”

He came closer, his face and neck damp, showing his fear. He should be scared—I was still pissed over the situation he had come to talk about.

“You better have good news.”

“We found her, boss.”

“Fucking hallelujah. She should never have got away.”

“I know Tony feels bad⁠—”

I cut him off. “I hope her pussy was fucking heaven and makes up for the hell he’s in now.”

Fresh sweat beaded on his forehead. “You want me to bring her in?”

“No. Downstairs. I don’t want her in here.”

“Okay, boss. I have her there already. I thought so.” He lifted his eyebrows as if expecting praise. He was lucky I didn’t cut his balls off. He was almost as much to blame for this as Tony.

“Someone better be watching her.”

“I got two men on it.”

I indicated the door with a tilt of my chin. “I’ll be down shortly. She better not have fucking touched anything on my desk. Or I’ll be touching you—with my fist. You understand me?”

“On it.”

He scurried off, and I turned to my bank of monitors. The entire far wall was covered with them. I could see and hear any part of the casino with a tap of my finger. I entered a code that showed me parts the public never saw. I zoomed into the lower office. It wasn’t like this space at all. Up here, I had a view, an opulent office, and a set of private quarters, including a luxurious en suite. The office downstairs had cement walls, a simple desk, and a sofa. A couple of visitor chairs. Filing cabinets. Windows that looked onto the street—the view uninspiring. It looked like an office. I met with people there when I wanted total privacy. Especially when I wanted to make them uneasy.

Like the woman sitting in the visitor’s chair, attempting to look bored and unaffected. I tapped the zoom, getting a closer look.

Tall, blond, slender, with big tits. A pretty enough face. She was relaxed back on the chair, pretending not to be uncomfortable. But I knew she was. Those chairs were designed to be that way. If you were sitting in them, I didn’t want you there for long. She crossed her legs, swinging one foot impatiently. Four-inch heels adorned her feet, her toes a bright red. The polish matched the lipstick on her mouth.

She was the sort of woman I might gravitate to. Pick up at the casino or bar and take upstairs to fuck. Then walk away from and forget about.

But she didn’t interest me in the slightest. Except for one thing.

She owed me money. A lot of it.

I stood and buttoned my jacket, adjusting my tie so it was straight. I stopped in front of the mirror and made sure my hair was in place. Image, after all, was everything.

Then I went down the private elevator to collect what she owed me.

She turned her head as I walked in, shutting the door behind myself, the lock slipping into place with a loud click. She watched me stride to my desk and sit down. We regarded each other silently. This close, she wasn’t as attractive as she appeared on camera. She looked hard, the lines on her face cleverly hidden with makeup. Her hair wasn’t naturally blond, and I would bet my last buck her tits weren’t real either. Her lips were too full, her dress too revealing, and her makeup applied with a heavy hand. Her eyes were a dark brown. Flat. Cold.