Don’t Make Me (Made Men #3) Read Online Renee Rose

Categories Genre: BDSM, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Made Men Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
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He leads me out to his Mercedes and opens the door for me. When I settle in the passenger seat the scent of cheap perfume assaults my senses. My head spins as Carlo gets in and starts driving. With a sick lurch, the pieces of the puzzle rearrange themselves and fall into place. He didn’t want to have sex last night because he’d already had it.

I want to puke.

He’s no different from John or any other cheating bastard. Not that we ever had a discussion about exclusivity, but Mother of God, I’m staying at his apartment!

“Pull over.” I grip the door handle.

“What? Why?”

“Pull over the car, right now.” I start to open the car door, and he swerves to the curb.

“Summer, what—?”

I jump out before the car stops rolling, not shutting the door behind me.

I hear the slam of a door and heavy footsteps behind me as Carlo flies out in hot pursuit. Horns honk behind his SUV.

“Summer, what in the hell is going on?” He jogs to keep up with me, catching my elbow.

I shake him off, baring my teeth. “Don’t touch me.”

He continues jogging beside me, holding his palms up. “I’m not touching. Just tell me what’s going on.”

I cock my arm and slap his face as hard as I can, tears spilling from my eyes.

Before I turn away, I see deep concern on his face. But then, if he’s a player, he’d be very good at playing, wouldn’t he?

He catches me around the waist and pulls my back against his front.

I struggle against his hold, but his forearm is like steel.

“Hey.” His voice is soft in my ear. “I’m not going to hurt you, but I’m sure as hell not going to let you run away without at least telling me why you’re upset.”

“Who was she?” I demand.

Carlo goes still, confirming my worst fears.

“Oh God,” I croak.

“No, baby, no. You’ve got it all wrong. Something happened last night, and I will tell you all about it. But not out here. At home. Or at least in the car.”

“I’m not getting in that car with you.”

“Summer, please. The truth will not hurt you, I swear. I would never cheat on you. Not ever.”

My breath rasps in my chest. Not ever.

The place inside my solar plexus that’s vibrating like a frantic moth caught in a lampshade eases. He does consider us exclusive, then.

And he swears he would never cheat. It’s a misunderstanding. Or am I being gaslit?

No, Carlo has honor. Or at least I thought he did. But then again, how much did I know about him?

“Your car smells like perfume.”

Carlo blows out his breath. “I’m sure it does. And there’s an explanation. Do you want to hear it?”

I do, but I also want to hold my ground. This isn’t the time to let Carlo boss me around.

“She’s a Russian sex slave being held against her will. I don’t know her name. I took her somewhere safe. Now, can we please get in the car? I really don’t want to be talking about this out here.”

I slump back against his body, all the fight leaving me. My legs wobble.

“I’m sorry you thought something happened, bambina, but I’m not that guy. I’m not going to fuck around on you. Not ever.”

He turns me around to face him. “Look at me.” Cradling my face in both hands he locks eyes with me. “You’re my girl. I’m not going to do anything to mess that up.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have freaked out. It’s just that John–”

Carlo’s face contorts with irritation. “I’m nothing like John.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” I sniff as he thumbs away my tears.

“Get in the car, and I’ll explain everything—if you want me to, that is.”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I need to hear it.” I let him lead me back to the car, where my door still stands ajar. I climb in and let him shut the door.

When he gets behind the wheel, he says, “I didn’t do anything illegal, so telling you won’t make you an accessory. Even so, the less you know, the safer you are.”

“I need to know.”

“I run a gambling table every Friday night. Okay, that part’s not legal. It’s high stakes. One of my customers is Russian mafiya. He borrowed funds last night and offered this girl up to settle his debt.”

I gape at him, trying to comprehend what he’s telling me. “So...you ended up with a Russian sex slave?”

“Right.”

A sick feeling forms in my stomach. I’m not sure I want to hear the rest of the story. I really have no idea what kind of business my father and Carlo run. I know they’re mafia. I know I’m not supposed to know any of it. Would they have use for such a girl? Carlo said the truth wouldn’t hurt me, but that just means he hasn’t used the poor woman himself.


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