Let’s make a deal…
She saw something she should not have. That happens when you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time.
And when you meet the wrong man—me.
Her sister’s gone now, and her own life is in danger.
Not my problem I say… But she was so… different.
So I made a deal to help. And my deal was just as filthy as you’d think.
This hot, over-the-top romance includes sexy mafia hitmen with a penchant for pursuing and protecting the women who give them a run for their money. If you love outrageously naughty stories as a way to indulge your not-so-secret bad girl side, this is for you.
Rain was tired, she wanted to be sleeping not going back to the lobby while her little sister has a booty call with their Uber driver. At least it’s Vegas and everything is open. Totally out of character she asks the man who initiates conversation with her in the elevator to have a drink with her.
Nico is drawn to this woman, he has no idea why he changes his mind and joins her at the bar with his business associate. When Rain takes a header from the bat stool, said associate takes off with her purse and hot guy following him.
Rain wasn’t letting them get away, she had run track and she quickly gains on them. In the process changing everything about what should have been just the weekend in Vegas.
This is a favorite scene.
I hugged the wall, painted a sad basement yellow, chipped and scarred most likely by clumsy carts transporting towels and other hotel things.
Since I’d stopped running and the blood had ceased roaring in my ears, the surrounding quiet created a stark contrast to the casino floor above, where slot machine bells rang non-stop and the general Vegas din never ceased.
That’s when it dawned on me just how far I was from help, should I need it, and how close I was to danger, given that I was in a deserted basement and in close proximity to criminals.
I knew I should turn around and go.
Just tiptoe right out of there. Purse snatching was a petty crime as crimes went, but if the thieves were opportunists, god knew what else they’d do if they got their hands on me with no one around to help.
Did that stop me creeping down the hall toward the racket I’d heard?
I stole toward the dark until I was immersed in it, and the further I got, the stronger a strange burning smell became.
My eyes adjusting to the dark, I fingered the frame of a closed door. Quiet sounds came from behind it.
“Help me. Help me,” a man whimpered.
I pressed my ear against it.
“Sorry, fucker. You don’t deserve help.”
Was that Nico? And if so, was Dan begging for help?
How’s that? I thought they were in cahoots.
“You never should have stolen that woman’s bag. You might have actually lived a little longer. But you just signed your own death warrant.”
Holy shit. That was Nico speaking.
“No man, don’t do it—” A second explosion jolted me back to reality. This time it had been close enough to leave my ears ringing until I was dizzy. And that smell. That burning smell.
That was a goddamn gun.
I broke into a sprint back toward the stairs I’d come down, but in my panic, I couldn’t find the right door— they all looked alike and each handle I turned was locked.
I could see it now.
Woman who was found dead in basement of Venetian Hotel was an art student and daughter of the very rich—
Oh, and I could hear my sister’s comments.
Um, well, she was in the room and left to go down and get a drink in the lobby. I never saw her again.
She’d sob for the TV cameras. She was good with the waterworks. ’Course she’d never mention her booty call. She’d throw me under the bus even in death.
I frantically turned one doorknob after the other, when the door where the gunshot had come from swung open with a creak. I whipped around a corner to hide.
Had I been fast enough?
I tiptoed down the hall toward another bend in the corridor, trying to get as far away from the approaching footsteps as possible, when a quiet voice called after me.
“Hey. Where are you going?”
I whipped around to see Nico holding my handbag, confusion covering his face.
“Oh. Hi,” I said in a trembling voice, as if he were the last person in the world I expected to see.
God, I was an idiot.
He moved toward me, and I took a step back, my hands held up in surrender.
“Please don’t hurt me. I won’t report this to anyone. I’ll stay quiet.”
He smiled, amused. “I know you won’t tell anyone. Here’s your purse, by the way. I got it for you.”
I let him approach me and handing the bag over, he took my hand— odd behavior for a thief and murderer, but who was I to argue? He led me to a nearby freight elevator and pressed the up button.
Time to get the hell out of there. Alone.
“Thanks, Nico. I really appreciate it. I’m pretty tired now, so I’m just gonna go back up to my room. It was nice meeting you.” I smiled and put my purse over my shoulder, heading for the staircase I’d come down not ten minutes earlier. I was trying to act completely normal, like I wasn’t trying to get away from a guy with a gun in the basement of a giant hotel while barefoot.
He grabbed my hand more tightly, as if he’d not heard my polite goodbye. “This will take us to the loading dock. From there, we’ll head out.”
He yanked my hand when he realized I was glued to the floor.
“C’mon,” he said, with another tug.
“Um, no thanks, Nico. I think I’ll go. My sister will be looking for me.”
Shaking his head, he furrowed his brow. “Rain, that’s not possible. You’re coming with me.”
Mika Lane. Filthy Deal: The Anti-Hero Chronicles (Kindle Locations 233-272). Headlands Publishing. Kindle Edition.
From the minute Nico more or less forced her to leave the hotel, the stakes ramp up. Nico eventually explains she had been targeted and chances were her sister was gone already.
In spite of the fact Nico isn’t really a good guy, he doesn’t condone human trafficking either.
This is a hold your breath, action packed, suspenseful book with plenty of sizzling heat as well.
I do hope Mika continues this series, I am loving these characters.
5 Contented Purrs for Mika!
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Writing has been a passion of mine since, well, forever (my first book was “The Day I Ate the Milkyway,” a true fourth-grade masterpiece), but steamy romance is now what gives purpose to my days and nights.
I live in magical Northern California with my own handsome alpha dude, sometimes known as Mr. Mika Lane, and an evil cat named Bill.
A lover of shiny things, I’ve been known to try to new recipes on unsuspecting friends, find hiding places so I can read undisturbed, and spend my last dollar on a plane ticket somewhere. I also drink cheap champagne and have way too many shoes.
I’ll always promise you a hot, sexy romp with kick-ass but imperfect heroines, and some version of a modern-day happily ever after.
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