Vincent and Eve: The complete Series Read online

  Praise for Jessica Ruben

  Rising (Vincent and Eve Book 1)

  "I felt fevered by the storyline, so besotted by Vincent and his mysterious life, so deeply connected to Eve and her dire circumstances. I felt like someone had PLUGGED ME INTO THIS STORY and turned me on, like a fire was lit inside me and the more I read, the hotter the flames grew until they were a raging inferno. It was crazy. Chaotic. And man, was I obsessed by the time I was done. I was invigorated and ready to scream it to the world."- Angie, Angie's Dreamy Reads

  "Jessica Ruben's storytelling is hypnotic, her writing is nuanced, and her characterization is superb. It's difficult to comprehend that Risingis her debut. She's delivered an emotionally charged story with a well-conceived and intriguing plot, compelling characters and an intense, angsty romance, and it will keep you breathless in anticipation to find out what happens next."- Mary Dube, USA Today HEA

  "I am practically giddy with excitement. My mind is awash with theories, potential plot lines and excitement with what is to come. I cannot wait to see where this author takes this story."- The Romance Cover

  "If you love your impeccably written suspenseful romances that grab your attention and keep you invested throughout, then I cannot recommend Rising enough."- Steamy Reads

  "A gritty, emotional, hard to read at times tale of how hard life can be on the "wrong side" of the tracks, while the over-privileged seek something simpler, the pureness of it. Corruption, fear, and the all consuming want of MORE. Which I now suffer from because I WANT MORE. Like now." -Two Unruly Girls

  "A scandalous must-read!"- Ellie, Love N Books

  "Jessica Ruben's debut novel will leave you breathless and addicted. From the first page, I was hooked on this fast-paced, sexy and unpredictable journey with a heroine I wanted to root for and a hero I was DYING to figure out. A must-read!"- Author Ginger Scott

  Reckoning (Vincent and Eve Book 2)

  The whole book brought it's angsty A-game! I can't even form thoughts! My head is a mess. THE FEELS! Dead over them! Ugh ugh ugh!!! LOVE THIS SO HARD.- Angie, Angie and Jessica's Dreamy Reads

  Poignant, passionate, and powerful, Reckoning is ABSOLUTE PERFECTION and one of the BEST SERIES I've met! Reckoning OWNS every ounce of me. I was a GONER--so WONDERFULLY WRECKED by Reckoning. Hook. Line. Sinker. THIS LOVE STORY SLAYS ALL THE WAY!-Karen, Bookalicious Babes Blog

  Historically book twos in a series fall a little flat for me, the middle part of the story that deals with the why, how and what doesn't always have the holding power to keep my attention, but Reckoning...it had me screaming for more. Depression setting in when I got to the end. Swiping, my kindle needing more. Please...MORE! I am SO SO ready for book three. MOOOORE!!- Dawn, Two Unruly Girls

  Redemption (Vincent and Eve Book 3)

  I devoured it just like the others and fell even more in love with Vincent and Eve. It was more than I could have imagined. MUST READ series! -MJ Fields, USA Today Best Selling Author

  The Vincent and Eve series is everything. Passionate and steamy, emotional and gripping, utterly unputdownable. It's romance perfection that you have to read. - Angie, Angie and Jessica's Dreamy Reads

  This is such a bang-up book with the intensity of The Godfather! This mafia series starring Vincent and Eve is among the BEST OF THE BEST in its genre. - Karen, Bookalicious Babes Blog

  And with a bang, the series is over. I am so so sad to see it end. This final book by Jessica Ruben was utterly stunning and brilliant on so many levels that it just blows your mind. - Suzanne, Goodreads reviewer

  6 I DON'T WANT THIS RIDE TO BE OVER stars! - Jacquie, Unbound Book Reviews

  RISING completely shook me, RECKONING wrecked me and REDEMPTION broke me down and built me back up again. - Chele, Goodreads Reviewer

  Vincent and Eve

  The complete Series

  Jessica Ruben

  JessicaRubenBooks, LLC

  229 E. 85th Street

  P.O. Box 1596

  New York, New York 10028

  Paperback ISBN:

  E-Book ISBN: 978-1-7321178-8-4

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-7321178-9-1

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contact me by visiting my website, JessicaRubenAuthor.com

  Cover Art Design by Okay Creations

  Editing by Billi Joy Carson at Editing Addict

  Editing by Ellie at LoveNBooks

  Publicity by Autumn at Wordsmith Publicity

  Copyright © 2019 by JessicaRubenBooks, LLC

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author.

  This is work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s wild imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Created with Vellum

  Rising (Vincent and Eve Book 1)

  Contents

  Rising (Vincent and Eve Book 1)

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Reckoning (Vincent and Eve Book 2)

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Redemption (Vincent and Eve Book 3)

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Afterword

  Stay in Touch with Jessica

  Also by Jessica Ruben

  Letter to the Readers

  WARRIOR UNDONE

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  1

  Oak desks, scuffed from years of abuse and
handy knife work, stand single file in the back of the dingy public library. Curled up in a dark wooden chair, with elbows resting on the etched wood, I read the newest novel recommended by my teacher, Ms. Levine. I lift my head for a moment when my gaze lands on the nearly opaque second-story window, grimy from New York City pollution.

  My eyes widen. “Oh shit,” I say out loud, my voice ringing through the empty room. Eyes registering the darkness outside, my stomach liquefies with dread. I check my cell to confirm the time—it’s ten fifteen.

  Grabbing my ratty backpack off the floor, I slide the book inside and zip it closed as quickly as my shaking hands allow. Throwing it over my shoulder, I rush out the front door and make it to the dimly lit bus stop, just as the M-6 pulls in. I walk up the steps and swipe my metro card at the kiosk by the driver.

  Noticing an empty seat by the window in the second row, I walk over, squeezing my small five-foot-one frame past the woman sitting in the aisle seat. She sighs as if annoyed, leaning back in an attempt to maintain distance. Wearing green scrubs, she has exhaustion written all over her drawn face. I take my seat and lick my dry lips, turning my gaze to the window.

  As the bus approaches my stop on the Lower East Side, I raise the hood of my black sweatshirt. Anonymity is key in my neighborhood—particularly as a lone female walking at night. I live in the Blue Houses, a New York City housing project recently dubbed by the Post as “the hellhole houses.” The nickname came as no surprise, as the complex is dilapidated and crime-ridden. It’s common knowledge that cops always enter the building with their guns drawn, assuming that all tenants are packing weapons. To make matters worse, two gangs, the Snakes and the Cartel, are in a turf war for rights to push crack, the preferred pastime for many Blue House residents. The gutters run blood daily. Although I’m born and raised here, my time spent with my head inside the books has left me with street smarts that are at best decent, and at worst delinquent. My older sister Janelle reminds me of this constantly, and in this moment, I’m proving her right.

  I’m so close to the building now, only about nine hundred feet away from the front yard. My eyes scan the eerily empty streets that, during daylight hours, are full of commotion. I force myself to stay calm by focusing on this morning when my sister’s friends chatted about who’s banging who, while old-school Tupac blasted on someone’s iPhone speakers. I pull the hoodie closer to my head as my mind revists to the scene.

  * * *

  “Jem got pregnant—”

  “Ohhhhh shit! No way! No fuckin’ way! That poor mama of hers—”

  “—I heard that Mark is gonna kick Sean’s ass. He owes him money, but who’s gonna pay that debt? Everyone knows he spends all his money on his—”

  I shift my focus from the gossip mill to the girls jumping rope in front of me, crisscrossing and jumping with ease.

  “Yo Eve, you listenin’?” I turn my head to Vania, one perfectly plucked eyebrow raised in frustration.

  I plaster a smile on my face. “Sorry, what?”

  She rolls her dark brown eyes. “Girl, you’ve got to get your head outta la-la land!” I flush with embarrassment; this isn’t the first time I’ve been accused of spacing out. “I asked you if you saw Jason. He told Jennifer that he thinks you’re: Hot. As. Fuck.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Nah. I’m not really interested.” She looks at me like I’ve got a screw loose in my head, and I immediately wish I said something other than the truth. Jason is tall with jet-black hair, blue eyes, and totally tatted from his head to his ankles. Most girls would give almost anything to be with a man like that. And while my eyes recognize his relative attractiveness, he doesn’t affect me the way he does everyone else.

  “I love your shade of lipstick!” My voice is full of forced enthusiasm, but I’m hoping to divert the conversation.

  “It’s called Honey Love. It’s MAC.” She purses her lips together, showing off the creamy nude shade.

  I nod my head, relieved that the conversation of Jason is now behind us. “That’s cool. I gotta tell Janelle to try it on me sometime.”

  Warmth fills her face. “Yeah, baby girl. And with your tan skin, pouty lips, and huge brown eyes…shiiiit. You’ll have guys lining up.” I blush, uncomfortable with the praise.

  I turn to my sister, who is all long blond hair and legs for miles. While I share her small nose and bow-shaped lips, our physical similarities are minimal. Janelle is five-foot-seven and statuesque, whereas I’m short and curvy.

  Vania clears her throat, rummaging through her purse. “Here. Let me put some on you.” She takes out a lipstick and lipliner from her huge black tote bag that looks more like a suitcase than a purse, and gets to work on my lips. When she’s finished, she leans back, seemingly pleased.

  “Yo, Janelle. Take a look at baby sister over here.” Janelle turns her head, smiling as she takes me in.

  “You’re smokin’. Je-sus!” She winks at me before turning back to Vania. “What color is that? Honey Love?”

  “Of course, you know, you bitch!” They laugh together, Vania turning her attention back to Janelle. “I read that Mario uses this new color mix on Kim Kardashian—”

  I slide up closer to them, trying to listen to their conversation, but everything they say goes in one ear and out the other. I’m the listener. The dreamer. The girl with her head in a book at all times. But even I know that in order to survive here, I’ve got to belong. Loners get picked on and picked off. But Janelle? She’s the social butterfly. The girl everyone loves. And if not for her, I’d probably be floating in the Hudson by now. I move my body closer to the group, doing my best to fit in.

  * * *

  I stumble on a hard piece of trash on the sidewalk, bringing my focus back to the present. The unnaturally silent air has alarm bells ringing in my head. I wonder if the gangs are roaming hard tonight. I look to the park adjacent to the Blue Houses, trying to find the regular late-night junkies. It’s the most secure place for people to do drugs, as the cops never make regular patrols; apparently, they’re too busy answering 911 calls. I take a sharp breath; the entire park is seemingly abandoned.

  I tighten my hold on the straps of my backpack and quicken my pace, focusing on making it to the front door of my building. My heart rate increases as my imagination spirals. Maybe someone was shot earlier, and now everyone is home scared? Did someone die? Someone must have died. Is there blood on the sidewalk? There’s blood. I know it. Fear takes hold, choking me. For all the laughter and friendly neighborhood vibes during the day, the reality is the Blue Houses are a deadly place to live.

  When I hear the telltale hiss of the Snakes, the blood in my veins turns cold. I run as fast as I can, but the hissing only increases in volume. Risking a glance over my shoulder, I see a group close behind me. Janelle’s voice enters my mind, “If you run, you’ll look scared. And looking scared makes you more vulnerable.” Even though my heart is pounding like a steel drum into my rib cage, I force myself to slow down. My legs beg to sprint forward, but showing fear isn’t an option.

  I make it a few more feet when they circle me, blocking any path of escape. My mouth opens, poised to scream, but my throat locks shut. It’s so dark, but the shadows of the streetlamps bring their red and black colors into focus. My body quakes from my fingertips down into my toes. Dropping my head, I stare at the ground as the lieutenant of the Snakes moves in front of me. Focusing on his black steel-toe boots, a cold sweat breaks out on my forehead.

  It’s Carlos. As a kid, he used to torture and kill mice in the stairwell and leave them as threats for people by their front doors. He’s been in and out of prison more times than I can count. In my mind’s eye, I can see the blue teardrops tatted under his left eye down to the corner of his thin lips, each oval bead signifying a kill.

  “Take that hood off. I wanna get a good look at you.” His voice is low and menacing. I move to lift my head, pausing at his muscular bare chest. I shudder, making eye contact with his black-and-red snake tattoo. It peeks over h
is right shoulder, tongue hissing between two pointy white fangs like a beast from hell.

  When Carlos sees I’m not doing as he demanded, he throws off my hood, roughly grabbing my chin and forcing my head straight. I can smell his rancid breath as he fists my hair in his hand. Staring at my face, he nods with what looks like appreciation.

  “We found something good tonight, boys,” he chuckles as if he’s found a new toy he can’t wait to play with. Bile rises up my throat as his smile widens.