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    Vice: Valentine, #1
    Vice: Valentine, #1
    Vice: Valentine, #1
    Ebook47 pages31 minutes

    Vice: Valentine, #1

    By Rosie Sloane

    ()

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    About this ebook

    "My FBI agent, my fake slave, my Treasa."

    A fast-paced dark, romantic read. Steamy and violent, featuring all your favorite tropes:

    Irish Mafia
    Morally gray and possessive MMC
    Fake relationship
    Second chance

    Cupid Valentine hates his name almost as much as he hates the Russian traffickers trying to do business on his turf. Cupid may be the head of the Irish Mafia, who thinks nothing of taking what he wants when he wants it, including lives, but there are just some lines you don't cross.

    He realizes the Russian human market is too big to crush on his own. So, he brings in FBI Agent Treasa Murphy, as his fake slave.

    What can go wrong?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLightning Bird
    Release dateMay 25, 2024
    ISBN9798224948475
    Vice: Valentine, #1
    Author

    Rosie Sloane

    Rosie travels the world working from one sunny place to another with her long-lost love after reconnecting. She is usually reading or writing on a sun lounger, swimming in the sea, or eating something sweet.

    Read more from Rosie Sloane

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      Book preview

      Vice - Rosie Sloane

      Chapter 1

      Cupid

      Warm and silky flesh pushed back onto my bare thighs, waking me gently. Seriously, is there anything better than a woman pushing back on you in bed?

      Just as I was about to pull my boxers down and plunge deep, tapping on my bedroom window stopped me.

      Carefully, I felt under the smooth cotton pillow and found the familiar cold metal of Deirdre, my handgun. Without thinking, I clicked off the safety one-handed and I pulled it from its usual hiding place. Peeling back the covers I crept to the window just as the incessant tapping started up again.

      I glared at the stripper in my bed who leaned up on her elbow, clearly about to speak as I stalked toward the noise. Putting Deirdre to my lips, I used the gun to silence her with the universal signal to shut the fuck up. Hard nipples sprang free from the sheets.

      Cupid? Cupid Valentine? came a whisper from the window. It was female, followed by more gentle tapping.

      Cupid Valentine? What the fuck were my parents thinking?

      It was a ridiculous name, made even more ridiculous by having Valentine as my surname. Real jokers, my parents. If the stripper wasn’t so scared, she’d be laughing. I would. Fucking ridiculous, the sound of it. Especially when whispered through the night.

      To me, the head of the Irish Mafia.

      But what can I do? It’s not like I can kill my parents. Even if they were divorced, drove me insane, and gave me the shittiest name on earth. Well, that’s not entirely true, I could have been born at Easter and had my sister’s name, Bunny. Now that might have tipped the balance into me killing them and actually putting them in the ground.

      I lowered my weapon and let a smile grace my lips.

      There was only one female who’d come knocking on my window in the middle of the night, three stories up, past the dogs and security.

      Placing the safety back on, I unlocked the window to open it wide and let her in.

      You could have used the fucking door like a normal person, Bunny. You were five seconds away from being brown bread. It wasn’t unusual for Irish idioms to slip in. I spend a lot of time with my grandma, who still sounds like she’s from her home city, Dublin.

      My sister nimbly jumped through the window and stood eye-to-eye with me, unblinking. I can be vicious and cruel, but she is a complete psycho and sociopath.

      You could have tried, she said, patting the shortened double-barreled

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