Ricky walked to the other side of the room near the stairs, motioning for Cayden to follow. “Listen, Cayden,” he whispered. “I have a sweet deal. How’d you like to split three million dollars?”
He smirked. “What’s the catch?”
“Here’s the beauty of it. You don’t have to do jack shit. Just give me the girl, then carry on your day.”
The girl?
He froze.
That wasn’t the answer he expected.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Give me Vasily’s girl, and I’ll wire you your cut within twenty-four hours. You know I’m good for it,” said Ricky.
Cayden turned and glanced at Sophia. She looked out of place, fidgeting with the decorative metal studs on the edge of the sofa. “Who the hell would pay that for her?”
“I’m not sharing my contact.”
“Baretti?”
Ricky shook his head.
He would have been happy trading Sophia in exchange for his cat, Rosie. Now the ante had been upped. One point five million without lifting a finger. He’d be a fucking idiot not to take the deal.
“Sorry, Ricky. I’ll pass. When this contract’s finished, I’ll give you a call.”
Ricky grabbed his shirt in a tight fist. “I don’t think you understand what’s at stake here.”
He looked down at Ricky’s chubby fist, and the other man dropped his arm.
“Time to leave.”
“This is a mistake, Cayden. Think about what you’re doing here. Nobody’s going to give you a higher price than that. She ain’t going up in value if you sit on her.”
He pointed to the staircase, but his defenses went up when he saw two sets of black boots descending the stairs.
A fucking set up.
“Come here, sweetheart,” said Ricky, motioning for Sophia to come with a curled finger. “Don’t be a hero,” he said to Cayden.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I assume my cut is out of the question now.”
“You should have taken the deal, buddy.”
Ricky’s partners stood at the bottom of the stairs, their hands on the butts of their weapons. There was way too much tension in such a small space. He had to remind himself loyalty was a thing of the past, and everyone in his line of work worshiped the almighty dollar above all else.
Sophia walked across the room, all eyes on her. She stopped when she reached Cayden.
“Come on, now,” said Ricky, holding out his hand.
“Three mill. Dead or alive?” asked Cayden.
Ricky’s silence was his answer. She only had hours to live. He assumed it was one of Morenov’s rivals putting up the bounty.
The fat fuck walked toward Sophia, irritation lashing in his eyes. She wrapped herself around Cayden’s arm, holding tight, like a child seeking the protection of a parent.
But he’d taken that from her, hadn’t he? She had no one to protect her anymore.
When Ricky reached for her, Cayden shook his head. “No touching.”
“Don’t be stupid. Give her to me.”
Cayden didn’t comply, so Ricky turned and nodded to his goons. They came for Sophia. These types of assholes were a dime a dozen. He began to see red, whisky-tainted blood pumping through his veins.
Just give her to them. Your problem will be gone, and you can move on with your life.
The first one grabbed Sophia, dragging her away. She screamed and kicked, digging in her heals while reaching back for Cayden. Odd how she’d seek out the man who’d killed her father. Maybe she saw him as the lesser of two evils. Either way, she wasn’t his responsibility.
Once Hawk realized Ricky had her, the Barettis would refocus their attention, leaving Cayden off the radar once again.
“Nice doing business with you,” said Ricky, following his men.
Cayden hadn’t moved.
Sophia was a wildcat, squirming and flailing her body. The other man pulled back his hand to slap her. Cayden grabbed the Glock from the back of his jeans and put a bullet between his eyes before he could strike her.
His body crashed to the concrete like a falling oak.
Sophia screamed.
“Get her out of here,” Ricky shouted to his last man standing, pulling out his handgun and aiming it at Cayden. “Stay back.”
“Cayden!” she called as the guy hauled her up the stairs.
He shot the man in the calf, and he tumbled back, rolling down the stairs. Sophia fell on top of him. Cayden finished the piece of shit off with a head shot. Ricky moved quick, wrapping his arm around her neck, her back pressed to his chest. He kept his gun pointed at Cayden as he clumsily tried to get up the stairs backwards with Sophia as a human shield.
Sophia held Ricky’s forearm with both hands to keep him from choking her. She clawed and struggled, gasping for breath.
“This bitch is already dead, so I plan to get paid. Since when did you grow a damn conscience, Cayden? You’re getting weak in your old age.”
“Let her go,” he warned.
“Not happening.” Ricky managed to get to the top of the stairs and into the factory, disappearing with Sophia.
Your problem’s gone. Just turn around and forget this shit.
****
The man reeked of prosciutto and onions, and her stomach roiled. His elbow bent across her neck, nearly stealing all her breath. He was rough and callous, yanking and prodding her through the unfinished parking lot.
At first, she swore Cayden was going to save her, to protect her like Hawk always had.
But she was wrong.
She was being passed around from bad to worse, an easy victim now that her father’s protective arm was no more. He’d kept her locked away, and said it was for her own safety.
Maybe he’d been right.
Now, on her own, it seemed everyone wanted her dead. There was nowhere to hide. She was tried and convicted by her name alone.
It wasn’t fair.
But in the criminal underworld, justice was in the hands of the most lethal men. Survival of the most brutal.
He released his hold on her. “Maybe we’ll be able to get in some quality time before I hand you over,” Ricky said, his lips twisted in a sick grin. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Sophia wasn’t going to let this pig touch her. She’d die first.
When they got to his car, there was no sign of Cayden. Tears pricked her eyes, but she had no time for an emotional overload now. She had to be strong, to fight, to make sure she died a virgin and not some toy for this heartless thug.
He opened the passenger door and shoved her down into the seat, his hand lingering too long on her shoulder.
A shiver rolled up her back.
This was the end for her. Whoever she was being sold to wanted her dead. She thought of Hawk. Thought of the mother she never knew, the father she’d lost, and the life she never got to live. There were so many dreams that would forever be unfulfilled.
Ricky leaned closer and she tensed, but he jolted to a standstill with a throaty gasp, the silver tip of a blade appearing in the center of his chest. It was surreal. He stared at her with flat eyes, his life ebbing away as his shirt transformed from white to crimson.
She froze, too in shock to move or scream. So much blood. The same blood coating the marble floors in her home.
“You should have listened. I told you no touching.” The dead body was cast aside, and Cayden reached his hand out for her.
Her father’s murderer.
Her kidnapper.
Her savior.
She couldn’t move. He hoisted her out of the seat. Her body felt like lead, and she was helpless in his arms as he carried her back to the factory. The scent of his woodsy cologne made her feel safe. She remembered Hawk carrying her out of her house on the day when everything changed.
Why did she feel the same security with Cayden? He didn’t deserve her forgiveness. And she shouldn’t feel such dark desires for a man she should detest.<
br />
But he’d come back for her. Why?
She could only assume he wanted the payday for himself, not willing to share with anyone else. But she could pretend.
Pretend he loved her.
Pretend he’d do anything to protect her.
Sophia had a vivid imagination, and it was a delicious thought. With the amount of alone time she had growing up, a creative mind was vital to her sanity. It kept reality tolerable and kept the loneliness at bay.
He didn’t set her down until they were back in the basement, his breathing not even labored after carrying her the whole way. Cayden sat her down on the sofa. She held out her arms in front of her, resting them on her knees. She stared at the bodies, then the splattering of blood against her pale skin. It reminded her of abstract art. Of death. Her mind fractured, that day coming back to haunt her again. Her body trembled involuntarily.
Cayden sat on the coffee table in front of her. “Shit.” He took one of her arms and began wiping it with a damp rag. She watched the movement of each stroke, seeing the blood smear, then disappear. “You can’t let it get to you,” he said. “Being Vasily’s daughter you should be used to all this.”
She shook her head. “I’m not as strong as you think.”
“You can sure put up a fight. Have you never seen blood before? I thought you were going to pass out.”
Yes, she’d witnessed a lot growing up, even if her father tried to shield her from the worst of it. Some days nothing fazed her, and she was ready to take on the world. Days like today, she wanted to be sheltered, protected, and hidden from everything dark and dangerous.
Since witnessing her father’s death, blood seemed to unhinge her.
“It reminds me of the day you killed my father.” She glanced up, meeting him eye for eye.
“You gonna remind me of that forever?”
He acted too casual about murder.
“That depends. Are you keeping me locked away forever?”
Cayden finished cleaning her arms. “A lot of people want you dead. I mean, a lot. There’s a price on your head, and some pretty scary fuckers are determined to cash in.”
“Like you?”
“This was never about money for me. This was me settling a debt, nothing more. All this other shit wasn’t part of the plan.”
“I heard what Ricky told you. Three million, dead or alive.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Even you can’t say no to that pay day.”
“No? You don’t know me very well.”
He stood up and her eyes traveled up his body.
His hard body.
She licked her lips and looked away. “I’m hungry,” she said, desperate to focus on anything but her twisted desires. “Do you have anything to eat here?”
“No,” he said. “I can order a pizza. Do you like pizza?”
Sophia smiled. “Doesn’t everyone?”
He sat on his office chair, spinning around to face her. “There’s a place near me that has the best pizza. You’ll have to try it one day.”
“What’s it called?”
“It’s not a chain. Just a Mom-and-Pop shop.” His brow furrowed, his mood shifting as if a page turned in his mind. “The man who mentored me growing up, his name was Frank Almeida. His family owned a bakery in my neighborhood. They were good people. Business was always a struggle, but it didn’t get them down. Your father had them all killed. The entire family. One, two, three, four, five…”
Her mouth fell agape.
“That was just over a month ago. Now it’s just me, but I guess it’s always been just me. It was stupid to think I belonged anywhere.” He ran a hand through the longer hair falling over his eyes. “I wanted to go back in time. To fix shit. To make sure they never died. I didn’t know about the extortion payments. And I was too late to save them.”
“I’m sorry.” She wanted to scream that she wasn’t her father. She wasn’t a monster.
He focused on her, his blue eyes piercing. “I wouldn’t be much better if I let Ricky sell you to your father’s enemies, would I? I couldn’t save them, but I could save you.”
She swallowed hard.
“Do you feel better now? Did killing my father bring you peace?”
He smirked. “I dreamt of killing him. It’s all I thought about day and night. All I did was plan that day. It was the only thing that helped me get through the grief. I honestly believed that bullet would bring me the best high in history. All it did was end my obsession, forcing me to mourn. Frank was the first person that made me believe I wasn’t a waste of space.”
“So we’re alike, you and I. We both have no one,” she said.
“And we both have a price on our heads.”
“Who wants you dead?”
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head. “That would be your boyfriend Hawk, the one who broke into my apartment and stole my cat.”
“If you let me go, I’ll tell him not to track you. I’ll make sure he gives your cat back.”
Cayden shook his head. “Maybe I’ll keep you. I haven’t decided yet.”
“What does that mean?”
“No more chatting,” he said. “I have three bodies to deal with, and I’m going to order a pizza.”
Chapter Eight
They’d been holed up for two days.
Cayden found out that Ricky had been trying to cash in on an open contract for Sophia. Oscar Esperanza ran one of the largest drug cartels in their end of the country. He was a ruthless bastard, known for killing women and children as scare tactics to keep his men loyal and associates from screwing him over. The vacuum left by Vasily’s death made everyone eager to fill in the void. Until the Morenov heir was dead, the three million was up for grabs.
“We can’t stay here much longer,” said Cayden.
Sophia was lying on his bed, stomach down. She’d been doodling on some scrap paper for the past hour. Her innocence was twisting his reality. “Why not?”
“Ricky wasn’t even a big player. Others will figure out where we are. I say we leave Friday morning at the latest.”
It was Wednesday evening, and he wanted to be gone before the weekend. Esperanza wanted Sophia dead, with countless killers looking to cash in on the big payday. Antonio Baretti and Hawk wanted Cayden. He was starting to feel like a trapped rat in his little hideout. It was only a matter of time until someone came knocking.
She sat up and crossed her legs, flipping her hair back. “What are you going to do with me, Cayden?”
When she said his name, it always hit a sore spot. Using first names was too personal. And the way she fucking said it…
“I’m not following.”
They’d been playing house for the past couple days, and they were getting way too comfortable together for his liking. For a hitman keeping a captive, he’d get an “F” rating.
“The people after me are willing to pay millions. If you don’t want the money, why keep me around? As long as you have me, there’ll be contracts on your head.”
“Fucked up, isn’t it?”
She sighed, dropping the papers beside her and standing up. “You must have a plan.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“You got your revenge. So now you either kill the witness or set her free. Isn’t that where we’re at?”
His jaw tightened.
He hated being put on the spot, especially when he’d been trying not to think too hard on the subject. He couldn’t kill Sophia.
What he wanted was to keep her.
He’d never had a family of his own, just the borrowed foster families. They had their own kids, their own agendas. Cayden had always been an inconvenience, a paycheck, a punching bag.
And worse.
He’d fantasized what life would be like if his parents were still alive, conjuring up make-believe worlds to dull the pain of reality. Those were childish games he’d grown out of. He’d been numb most of his adulthood.
Now, being alone with So
phia, he once again wondered what life would be like with a family. A family of his own. Women had never looked at him with love, just lust. The two were worlds apart. He was unlovable, but it didn’t make the desire for it any less. A woman like Sophia was beyond him, a fucking mafia princess. And who was he? Nothing. A joke. The jester. He shouldn’t even be looking in her direction. Not after what he’d been through. All his baggage and dirty little secrets would forever haunt him.
Then there was Hawk.
The hero.
Just hearing his name made Cayden’s hackles rise. Sophia didn’t deny they were an item. Vladimir made it clear that Hawk would do anything for Sophia, even die for her. Only a man in love would go that far.
So, he was between a rock and a hard place. He wouldn’t sell Sophia to Esperanza. The only other option would be to return her to Hawk. Maybe trade for his cat and end all this bullshit. What he wanted was to keep Sophia for himself, to make her love him, but he wasn’t a fool. He’d learned as a child that he couldn’t make another person love him, no matter how lonely he was or how deeply he craved it.
It felt better when he didn’t care.
Easier.
Simpler.
Cayden would wait out the next two days, and then he’d hand her over to her own people. He deserved to enjoy her company for a little longer. Her father had killed everyone he cared about, leaving him with nothing. He wanted his reward.
“You’re too brave for your own good. You realize almost every road leads to you in an early grave, don’t you? Unless, of course, Hawk comes and saves the day.”
“If you wanted me dead, you wouldn’t have turned down that three million. That’s a small fortune.”
He held out his arms. “I know I look like I crawled out of the gutter, but, sweetheart, I have more money than I can ever spend.”
“Okay, so is this about your cat?”
He laughed out loud. She had no idea how fucked up he was in the head.
He kept up his walls, keeping impersonal. It felt safer that way. She was the first female to make him hunger for more than sex. All the others were an irritation. Maybe it was because women usually pursued him, and he knew he could never have Vasily’s daughter. “Sophia, why don’t you worry about looking pretty, and let me worry about my next move.”
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