by Sam Crescent
If Boss knew anything about the drugs, then it meant they were infiltrating the city. She’d been warned about tampering with drugs years ago. So far, her one act of stupid vengeance hadn’t cost too many lives, but people took drugs. She knew that. She understood the lure of a few hours of peace. If the drugs were the same ones from Colombia, then a lot of people were at risk. She’d been tracking these drugs the moment her science guy disappeared without a trace. The lab where they’d concocted this scheme had all of the formulas taken and her man was missing. What would Boss think if he knew she was the person who’d come up with the drugs that were now killing people, potentially innocent people? Possibly even kids. They did stupid shit at parties.
Pulling out her cell phone, she gritted her teeth as she dialed a number she’d promised herself she’d never, ever call. It was the one man she owed a great deal of debt to, the one man who was the complete opposite of Boss, and the only man she trusted with her very life.
Chapter Three
Twenty-four new reports in the past two days.
Boss didn’t like how quickly this was spreading across his city. Fortunately, the media hadn’t caught wind of it yet. Junkies overdosed. Junkies died. Only it wasn’t just junkies in the hospital now. There was a politician’s wife, a night-school teacher, and two fucking high school boys amongst the new numbers.
His intel guys were keeping careful track of the tainted drugs and its victims. Hospital and clinic admissions, new deaths, and underground channels were being monitored all day, every day. Anything new and he was the first to know.
He filed through the contract requests. Business was booming at Killer of Kings. All his men had one or two jobs on the go, and the backlog was growing. A few hitmen were overseas, following leads or tailing their marks. He pulled a contract that looked interesting, printing off the paperwork. Some hotshot executive had gotten himself into hot water with insider trading. He’d paid his dues, but a couple of big players were after his wife and daughter in the name of revenge. Mr. Blane Mitchell wanted them safe and wanted the men after them handled. The bounty for this contract was impressive.
Boss did some preliminary research, pulling up pics and history of the man’s family. The wife was thirty-two and the little girl was ten. Cute family. Then he looked into the two killers after Mr. Mitchell. They represented two of the large companies he’d fucked over with his illegal dealings. This would require more than eliminating the muscle.
He was starting to think the payday for this one wasn’t high enough after all. He’d demand more before he put in the effort.
Boss grabbed his cell.
“Maurice, I want a workup on Tyson Black and Edward Seer. I need to know their patterns over the past two weeks, firepower, family, the usual.”
“Let me jot this down,” he said. “Oh, by the way, Widow Maker made a local call from the lobby of her condo late last night.”
“And?”
“Viko Fedorov.”
Boss frowned. “Any recording?”
“We didn’t have the lobby tapped. She always uses her secure cells.”
“She must know we’re tracking her. Why the fuck would she call him from a public place?”
“When I traced the call and saw the name, I thought you’d be interested.”
“Send the bios of the men to me when you have everything,” said Boss. “But Viko and Widow Maker are top priority. Get all hands on this.”
He was pissed off Maurice had waited this long to tell him about the call. And why the fuck would Graciella be involved with the Circle of Monsters? The call had been local, which meant Viko was in his city. Boss didn’t like to be in the dark about anything.
She must have gotten herself into trouble, or was she working for the notorious group of assassins? Either way, he planned to find out.
He wasn’t sure why he cared—that woman should have been wiped off the face of the earth once she started causing problems for him. Instead, she piqued his curiosity. He found himself drawn to her. Boss was used to getting what he wanted, and right now, he wanted the Widow Maker in his bed.
Boss slammed his fist down on the desk, his monitors rattling. He didn’t like how Graciella invaded his thoughts. She was a dangerous distraction, and he had to be focused or he’d make mistakes. He wasn’t following his own advice, and it had to stop. It was time to get El Diablo’s little sister off his mind.
He did a little digging, called in a few favors, then messaged Killian for a ride. It wasn’t Friday, but another woman was the perfect way to get Graciella off his mind. Maurice and his team would be all over this Viko Fedorov bullshit.
“Pick me up in an hour. Bring a new bitch. I feel like going out for dinner.” Boss hung up and hit the shower.
Before the hour, Killian rang the doorbell. Boss finished adjusting his tie as he made his way to the front entry.
“Ready?”
“I will be in a few minutes.”
Killian came in and sat on one of the armchairs, making himself at home. Although he was one of his best hitmen, he liked to use the Irish assassin as his driver most days. Trust was key in this business, and he’d taken Killian under his wing ages ago.
“You look like shit,” said Killian.
Boss ignored him, checking his collar in the hall mirror. “How are the kids?”
“Growing like fucking weeds,” said Killian. “I think we’re going to try for another.”
He scoffed. “June must have the patience of a saint to deal with you.”
“She does.” Killian got to his feet, brushing his unruly blond hair off his face. “What about you, Boss? What are you now? Fifty? Sixty?”
“Fuck off.”
“No, seriously, you going to live alone in this huge house forever?”
“That’s the plan,” said Boss. “I have enough trouble keeping up with you assholes and your family dramas.”
Killian laughed. “Well, you won’t want to marry the one waiting in the car, but she’ll stave off the loneliness for a night.”
“She cute?”
Killian shrugged. “Does it matter? She has a pussy and an ass. That’s all you’ve ever requested, no?”
Boss slipped his jacket on over his gun holster. “Okay. I’m ready.”
He secured the house and got in the back of the car. The woman waiting looked young, with dyed blonde hair and big fake tits. She smiled and reached for him.
“No touching,” he warned. “Let’s go, Killian. I’m starving.”
He ran both hands through his hair and leaned back in his soft leather seats. These gold-digging bitches grated on his nerves. Killian was right. This fast life was going to catch up with him soon. Maybe he’d start jerking off and stay away from loose women for a while.
They pulled up in front of the restaurant, one of the most exclusive downtown locations. Boss liked the best of everything.
“Want me to hang around?”
Boss always liked to be one step ahead. Tonight would be interesting. “Yeah. Don’t go too far. Keep your phone at the ready.”
He walked up the main staircase with his date for the night. They passed the line outside and headed right to the hostess. Boss didn’t do reservations, and he’d never had an issue.
Within seconds of being spotted by the staff, they escorted him to the exclusive part of the restaurant. He sat down across from the girl. Boss didn’t know her name, and he didn’t give a shit.
“Your driver said you’re a business owner,” said the girl.
He nodded as he flagged down the waitress for a glass of wine. One thing he wasn’t interested in was a conversation with his date. He should have skipped dinner and went straight to fucking.
As he zoned out, staring at the candle lights flickering on the tables, something caught his eye. A flash of bright red. He focused for a second and immediately sat up straight in his seat. It was Graciella Moreno. At the same restaurant as him?
She did a quick sideways glance in his direction
as a man pulled out the chair for her. Her sly smile was proof she’d seen him first.
“Are you okay?” asked his date.
He wanted to tell her to fuck right off, his attention riveted on the beauty a few tables over. Instead, he pushed the breadbasket in her direction and told her to eat up. It was a while later when Graciella stood up, excusing herself from the two-person table.
Boss had been monitoring them the entire night. He kept track of everything. Who the fuck was her date? Was he a mark or was this personal? He kept imagining choking the life out him, then emptying a clip into him for good measure.
Widow Maker walked in his direction. Her red dress looked like velvet, trailing all the way to her ankles, the side slit reaching just below her left hip. Her lips matched the dress, her long black hair pinned to one side with a diamond clip. Boss swallowed hard.
“Imagine finding you here,” said Graciella, leaning over the table, a clutch purse in her hand. He had no doubt it carried a gun. The dress barely contained her tits as she faced him.
“Imagine,” he echoed.
Graciella glanced at his date, then back to him. “Nice. Fiancée?”
“No,” he said. “Just a friend.”
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Graciella asked.
Did she realize he didn’t know her name? “I wouldn’t want to take time away from your date.”
She nodded. “You’re right. I better get back to him before he worries.”
“Nice meeting you,” she said to the girl. Graciella stood up straight. “You should be careful about being so predictable, Boss. It could be your downfall.” She winked and sauntered off like a fucking queen. He watched the sway of her hips, the confidence and grace in the way she carried herself. She was a true professional, and any mark would be helpless under her wiles. No doubt she’d be pissed with him tomorrow.
“Who was that?”
“Nobody.”
How was he supposed to eat now? His appetite had vanished the moment he noticed her in the restaurant. He went through the motions, ordered, and picked at the food. All the while, keeping tabs on Graciella. She kept laughing at the man’s jokes, touching his arm, and making sure to look over at him once in a while with those evil eyes.
Never in his life had he felt jealousy for a woman—until tonight.
****
She had Killian’s car followed. Boss usually used him for transport. And she knew he’d come here.
What she didn’t expect was the blonde drooling all over him.
Graciella touched up her makeup in the bathroom. She wasn’t sure why she liked fucking with Boss. Maybe because he’d surprised her the other day, so she wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. And, somehow, he made her feel safe.
Tomorrow, she had a face-to-face with Viko Fedorov. It wasn’t something she looked forward to. He’d never touched her. The man was like a machine—no emotion, no bullshit. He’d insisted she do him a quick favor before the meet. Saying no wasn’t an option. She had to fuck her date and provide pics so Viko could frame the married man for something.
The Circle of Monsters wasn’t like Killer of Kings. Boss ran his business without a hiccup, and he had his own strict code of ethics. The Circle of Monsters were violent assassins of the underworld. They were vicious and cut-throat. And she owed Viko a major debt from years ago. He wasn’t pushing her to pay up just yet, as he loved having her in his debt. She’d contacted him because she needed him to help her sort out the shit she’d started back in Colombia. Viko knew where she came from. He’d funded her little project, the one now completely out of control.
The tainted drugs were only supposed to take out the cartels who’d ruined her life. They always used their own product. But it didn’t stop there. And it had mutated, getting mixed with other chemicals along the way to the US.
“Who’s the suit?” Boss grabbed her arm as soon as she left the bathroom.
She gasped.
“None of your damn business,” she said. “Your plaything is waiting for you. Hurry up, it’s almost past her bedtime.”
“I don’t care about her. Who’s your date?”
She rolled her eyes. “Business.”
“What kind of business?”
Even with her four-inch heels, he still towered over her. He made her feel fragile and feminine, which wasn’t an easy task. “The kind that pays very well.”
His features were set hard. “Want me to kill him for you?”
“I’m not killing him, just fucking him.”
Boss had her pressed against the wall in the hallway within seconds, his body trapping her in place. “You have skills, Graciella. Why would you sell your body for a contract?”
“It’s just a body,” she whispered.
They were so close. The scent of his cologne, the heat of his words, the fire in his eyes.
“I know where you come from—every detail. You deserve better than this bullshit. Cut the suit loose.”
She tried to jerk out of his grip, but he was like a brick house. “You know nothing,” she said. “And you don’t get a say in my life.”
“You can’t even let your own brother into your life. You going to die a miserable, spiteful bitch?”
Graciella smacked him hard across the face.
He stared at her without reacting. Without budging.
The next moment, his lips were on hers, his hand in her hair. She closed her eyes, completely taken by the rush of passion. They kissed long and hard. The entire world went away as they devoured each other, unable to get enough. All the sexual tension between them came rushing to the surface and couldn’t be contained.
She lifted her leg against his side, the slit in her dress giving her full range of motion. He grabbed her hip, grinding against her. She was completely breathless, unable to get enough of this man.
When he pulled away, she was left wanton, her entire body quaking with need. She touched her lips. Her red lipstick had to be a disaster.
“I should freshen up,” she said dismissively. Graciella didn’t like how much Boss affected her. He brought out too much vulnerability, in her opinion.
He caged her in with an arm to each side of her head. She wanted to feel those thick muscles for herself but fought for composure.
“Am I your prisoner now?” she asked.
Boss just stared, his jaw clenched.
“Our dates are waiting.” The intimacy was more than she could handle—the look in his eyes, the fact he knew about her fucked-up childhood.
“I don’t want you in his bed tonight,” he said. “I want you in mine.”
When Viko asked her to do something, she had to do it. Until her debt was paid in full, she had little choice in the matter. Luckily, she trusted him not to abuse her.
“I can’t…”
“Why not? How much is the contract? I’ll pay you,” he said. “Cut him loose.”
“You don’t understand. I said I can’t.” She ducked away and disappeared into the bathroom. Emotions bubbled up because the truth was she’d much rather be in Boss’s bed. A job was a job, and if she started feeling sorry for herself, it wouldn’t turn out well.
He appeared in the reflection of the mirror.
“This is the ladies’ room, Boss. Get out.”
“Tell me why you won’t let this go. You like him?”
She smirked, turning around as she leaned on the counter. “It’s blackmail. My contact needs pics of him screwing a woman who’s not his wife.”
“Then we swap. My girl’s begging to get laid. We hook them up.”
“It’ll be a sad night for you then. I don’t have sex for pleasure. Only for business.”
“Call it whatever you want.” He cupped her face, using his thumb to wipe at some of the smeared lipstick. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Graciella.”
Tears pricked at her eyes. God, how perfect would it be to be wanted, loved, and protected by Boss. But she’d never trust a man. Never. She could take care o
f herself.
“You can get any woman you want,” she said.
“I can say the same thing about you. Every head turns in your direction when you enter a room.”
“It’s not real,” she said. “This body is a guise. There’s nothing under this skin.” It wasn’t a lie. Her confidence, her sexuality—it was all a game, all part of being the perfect assassin. The real woman was hollow, a little girl shattered into a million pieces.
“Give me one night.”
She swallowed hard, tempted to take his offer, to feel like Cinderella for one night.
“You’re a good kisser. But that’s where this has to end.” She turned, fixed her makeup, and returned to her table. Her heart raced. She wanted to go back to being the bitch, but Boss had awoken something inside of her.
Her mark wasn’t bad-looking. At least she didn’t have to kill him. She needed to get this over with so she’d have the pictures to give Viko tomorrow night. If she showed up empty-handed, there was no way he’d agree to help her out of this drug mess.
“I was getting worried about you,” he said, reaching for her hand. She cringed but allowed it.
“Can we skip dessert?” She bit her lip slowly, sensually, to show her intention. He took the bait, immediately requesting the check. Graciella didn’t even bother to look at Boss or his sexy little plaything again. She ducked out with her date, and they walked out to the lot to find his car. She was anxious to get the hell out of there.
The sound of burning rubber made them both look up. A car raced down the street, braking right in front of them. It was dark out, only a few streetlights helping them to find their way. Killian leapt out of the driver’s seat, leaned over the top of the car, and aimed a gun.
“Back off, Widow Maker.”
“What is this?”
The second she stepped away from her date, and he was shot dead, his body collapsing to the ground. Killian saluted with the gun, gave her a smirk, and then sped off down the road.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He didn’t have to die, even if he was a cheating bastard. She stepped over the body and headed back to the restaurant.