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
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Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
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He regarded me for a moment, then nodded. “Yes. You may.” He held up his finger. “I’ll trust you once. Betray me, and you’ll be sorry.”

I had no plans on finding out what that entailed. “Thank you.” I looked around the room. “Is there something I can do?”

“Like what?” He frowned.

“Some bookkeeping, organize a supply cupboard, or inventory? Anything to keep my mind occupied.”

He stared, perplexed. “I’ll see what I can find.”

“Okay.”

I headed to the bedroom. “Um, have a good day.”

He didn’t reply.

When I got out of the shower, I didn’t want to redress in the outfit Vi had brought me, but I was wondering how to ask for something else to wear. I was already indebted to Roman, and I hated adding to that debt, but I couldn’t wear the same clothes all the time. I peered in his closet, seeing a pile of gray T-shirts on the shelf. I took one, noticing the casino logo embroidered on the front over the pocket. Small, classy. Not like a touristy shirt. Deciding to risk his outrage, I pulled it over my head and tied a knot in the side. My leggings were still fine for today, but at least I felt better in a clean shirt.

I headed back to the office, surprised to find Roman still there. He glanced up, freezing when he saw me, his green eyes locked on the shirt.

“Um, I’ll pay you back. I don’t have another clean one.”

“It’s fine. I’ll get Vi to get you a few more things.”

“I have clothes at home⁠—”

He cut me off with a shake of his head. Then he indicated the table. “Breakfast.”

I sat down, pouring a cup of coffee. He sat beside me, lifting the lid on his plate and cutting into a large omelet. My plate contained pancakes and scrambled eggs.

He pointed to the meal. “I thought your throat might still be sore.”

“That was very thoughtful.”

He didn’t reply.

He finished his breakfast before pouring himself a cup of coffee. I laid down my utensils.

“Is that all?” he asked.

“I ate most of it.”

He lifted his eyebrows in disbelief but didn’t argue. He finished his coffee and stood. “Vi will be here soon. You can make your call. Your books are on my desk. I expect you to show respect and not snoop.”

“I have no desire to see what you have in your drawers,” I responded.

I swore his lips quirked at my unplanned quip.

“The elevator works, but my men are posted at the bottom.”

I rubbed my head, already feeling the headache. “I said I wouldn’t try.”

He ignored me. “If you need something, press zero-one-one on the phone. That will reach my private staff. They will get you anything you want. If you are feeling unwell, my cell phone number is on the desk.” He waved his hand. “Or if you get nervous or anything.”

“All right.”

He paused, looking at me. His tone was steely. “One move, Effie. Don’t disappoint me.”

This time, I dared. “What will you do?”

“You don’t want to know.”

I felt a shiver run through me.

His gaze fell to something behind me, and he leaned over, picking up the socks from the corner of the sofa. I had never put them on yesterday. He held them up in question.

“It hurts too much to bend and get them on my feet,” I admitted.

Before I could blink, he kneeled in front of me and lifted a foot to his knee. He pulled on the soft socks and briskly rubbed my foot. He did the same with the other one, and I sighed at the warmth. For a moment, he held my feet in his large hands, staring down at them. When he lifted his gaze, our eyes locked. That same fierce tenderness raged in his stare. I felt the hitch in my breathing. The intensity of his grip on my feet. The change in the air around us. Then with a low curse, he stood and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him loudly.

I sat, shaking.

And this time, it had nothing to do with being cold.

ROMAN

We sat in yet another office I had. It was a space I shared with Aldo, where we did a lot of decision-making. Plans of the casino hung on the walls, graphics and other items scattered around. It was secure and functional, our desks facing each other. We called it our war room. The windows looked out to the casino floor below. It was a great place to survey the empire I had built. People looking up only saw glass. I saw them.

“What crawled up your ass this morning?” Aldo asked. “Bad night?”

I felt like laughing. I’d had the best sleep I could remember. My mind was clear, my body refreshed, and it pissed me off because of the reason.

Effie.

I hadn’t slept beside a woman in years. I was never comfortable with someone in my bed, yet last night, not only had I slept beside her, apparently I had hauled her up on my chest and held her all night.


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