High Roller (Book 3): A Mafia Romance, #3

By Heather West

This is book 3 and the finale of the High Roller Mafia Romance series!

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.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sopris Page Press
• Release date: Sep 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393228127

Book preview

High Roller: A Mafia Romance (Book 3)

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

When Zane left the room, I threw myself on the bed and cried. I cried for myself, for my situation, for my baby, and for everything. I cried because I felt like my life was really and truly over. In my whole life, I’d never felt so alone. I’d never felt like the mistakes I made were going to have such an effect. Even after Kyle, and finding out about his lies and cheating, I didn’t think things were over.

After all, I was young. I guessed I was still technically young, but I no longer felt that way. All that mattered to me was getting out of this room and fixing my life.

Then I remembered Zane and I were married.

This wasn’t just a guy who was trying to fuck with me. This was my husband. My husband had locked me in his room and was refusing to let me leave. My husband, the man who swore to love and protect me. Or at least to protect me, I thought solemnly. Zane had never said a single word about love. I knew he only married me to protect our child if something happened to him. But he could have at least tried to lie a little, tried to make me feel like I was someone he wanted to be with.

When my tears had finally stopped, I wiped my eyes and lay back on the bed. It seemed ridiculous to think about Zane now in the same light I’d seen him before. Before, it had been easy to think that he was just a lucky guy with a nice car and a nice house. Before, I was able to ignore the more sinister implications of his massive amounts of cash. I shuddered as I remembered the way he’d knocked those guys out in the alley behind Maison Bridges. Zane was a killer, an extremely dangerous one.

And you’re his wife, I said aloud. I shuddered. I didn’t want anything to do with Zane. I didn’t want to be his wife. And I didn’t want to raise this baby in a life of crime. Zane had told me his father was the leader of the mob. Did that mean that Zane would take over when he died?

I’m sorry, baby, I told the growing infant in my belly. I didn’t want you to live like this. I wish I could give you a normal life, with a normal set of parents. And a normal grandfather, not some crazy Mafioso.

Something shifted in my belly, seemingly in response to what I’d said. I jumped a foot into the air: I hadn’t ever felt the baby move before. I hadn’t been pregnant for very long. Naïvely, I didn’t think babies could move for a few months. But sometimes, lying awake at night, I felt something that resembled a heartbeat. Maybe it was true. Maybe the baby had always been a baby, and I just had to realize it was there.

With a sigh, I rolled onto my belly. I’d heard some noises downstairs. Nothing huge, just some voices. But now I was wondering whether or not Zane had left. I knew he wouldn’t have called anyone he didn’t trust, but I hated the idea of being guarded by a stranger. Add that to being locked in my husband’s bedroom and it felt downright medieval.

I got to my feet and walked over to the window. My heart sank; I was on the third floor. Zane’s house was bigger than I’d expected, even from the outside. There was no way I could jump down to safety without breaking a bone or twelve. To make matters worse, Zane’s distinctive Porsche wasn’t in the driveway. I swallowed hard. He’d left me. He’d locked me in this bedroom and left me with a stranger. My husband had left me with a stranger.

I hate you, I muttered under my breath. I forgot about all of Zane’s good qualities then: his laugh, his generous nature, the way he picked me up tenderly, like I weighed nothing, the way he’d looked at me ever since he found out I was pregnant, like I was always carrying eggs, or something equally fragile.

I decided to get out of that bedroom if it was the last thing I did. Looking around for a weapon, I spotted two decorative vases on either side of the dresser. They were so big they could have passed as sarcophagi. Narrowing my eyes, I walked over to one and tried to heft it up in my arms. But it was made out of stone, or something equally heavy, and it barely budged. Using all of my strength, I was finally able to push it a couple of inches on the carpet. I frowned. There was no way I could pick something like that up; I’d break my back. I bit my lip. There had to be something.

Dashing over to Zane’s dresser, I pulled open the first couple of drawers. Everything was in neat, ordered, folded rows. I chuckled to myself, despite how unhappy I felt in that moment. I never would have picked Zane as the type of guy who folded his silk boxers. You silly Italian, I said, laughing to myself. The thought was a grim one and made me think of my father.

My father. That was a surprise I was still grappling with. My father was still a king in my mind, the kind of king who loved my mother and me with all of his heart. But now, I had a sinking suspicion Zane had been telling me the truth. I didn’t like to dwell on it because the subject was upsetting, but it did seem to make a certain amount of sense. My father had left me a giant fortune, and now people were out to kidnap me and take every penny.

I looked into the mirror. Even though I didn’t resemble my mother at all, sometimes when I looked at myself, I could have sworn she was there. I was every inch my father: tall, blonde, tanned. But somewhere in my heart-shaped