Kiss Me (Kiss of Death Book 2)

by LP Lovell

  “Me?” I ask. He nods and stands back, holding the door open. The second I step past him, Gio presses a gun against my back. “Always such a gentleman, Gio.”

  “You lost all rights to any nice treatment the second you put that baby at risk,” he growls. I’m not one to get angry, but it makes me snap. I spin, planting my boot firmly against the inside of his ankle in a firm kick. He goes down. I land on top of him with my fingers wrapped around his Adam’s apple. It won’t kill him, but it’s certainly not comfortable. He presses the barrel of the gun into the side of my neck as we stare at each other. “You know nothing of my motives, carogna. Assume to again, and I will kill you. I don’t give a shit how loyal you are to Nero.” I get up, swiping a gun from his chest holster as I push away from him. I tuck the weapon into the front of my jeans before he’s even standing, and I start walking again.

  Tommy lets out a low whistle and whispers to Gio. “Are you fucking crazy? She’s Una…and she’s hormonal. You, my friend, are suicidal.”

  “Fuck off, Tommy,” Gio snaps at him.

  I walk down the hallway and into Nero’s office, Arnaldo’s office. He’s sitting behind that desk and two of his men are standing in front of it, looking at something. The second his eyes lock with mine, something in me hardens, walls erecting themselves, blocking him out. He no longer factors into what must be done. I grab hold of that cold efficiency, embracing the heartless killer within me and holding onto her. I need her right now. The two men move aside and I see a parcel on the desk.

  “What is this?” I ask.

  “It’s addressed to you,” Nero says, his words icy. And now I see why they all look so concerned. Who knows I’m here? Not many people.

  I peer at the package, and then my blood runs cold. My name, is written in Russian. “It could be Sasha.”

  He tilts his head to the side and I know his mind is spinning through every possibility, every single angle. “Would Sasha send you something?”

  I brace my hands on my hips and squeeze my eyes shut. “No.” Of course he wouldn’t. Sasha and I don’t hold to meaningless sentiment. If he wants to give me something, it’s inevitably important. You don’t post anything important.

  “Open it,” Nero says and my gaze snaps to his. Tommy gently pulls me backwards. Nero gets up and moves around the desk, standing to the side of me and a few feet away. One of his men picks up the package, and I suddenly realize through my fog that they think it might be a bomb. The guy opening it has a steely expression, but I can see the sweat dotting his brow. The paper tears and everyone seems to hold their breath as he peers inside.

  “It’s okay,” he says, removing a small cuddly toy from the package. I frown as he passes me an envelope. It’s plain white with no writing on it. Entirely inconspicuous. I open it and take out a card that reads: Congratulations, in Russian. A picture of a stork is beneath the writing, and it makes my stomach drop. I’m shaking before I even open the card, but the second I see the words, my entire body goes numb.

  Little dove,

  I hear congratulations are in order.

  You have always made me so proud, and now you give me a grandchild, fathered by none other than Nero Verdi.

  He will be strong. He will be the perfect soldier.

  You must come home now though. Do not make me come for you.

  I will see you soon, little dove.

  Nicholai.

  14

  Nero

  I watch as her face goes completely blank and the card slips from her fingers to the floor. I narrow my eyes and wait for her to say something, but instead she just turns and walks out of the room.

  “Una?” I go after her. When I round the doorway I see her walking down the hall, her hand reaching for the gun in the back of her jeans. Where the fuck did she get a gun from? She gets to the front door, and my men scramble to stop her, but there’s something about the way she’s moving, like a predator on the hunt, that has me lifting my hand and waving them away. I can’t afford to lose good men to her temper.

  “Boss?” Gio asks from behind me.

  “I’ve got this. Try and find out where that package came from. I want to know who delivered it,” I say without stopping.

  I follow Una out the front door and she stalks towards the gate just replaced this morning, after her attempted escape. Again, I wave off my guys and they open the gate, allowing her out. She never breaks stride, never so much as acknowledges them as she walks out the gate and hooks left into the woods.

  “Put the entire property on lock down. No one gets within a hundred yards of the gate,” I say to the guard.

  “Yes, boss. Do you need help?” he asks, glancing after Una.

  “No. Give me your gun.” He quickly places his gun in my waiting palm and I follow her into the woods.

  Losing sight of her for a moment, I panic, thinking that she’s run again, but then I hear a gun shot ahead of me. I take off at a sprint towards the sound of the shot and stop when I reach a small clearing in the woodland. Una stands in the middle, gun raised as she fires at a tree. What the fuck is she doing?

  Slowly, I approach her as she fires off round after round, emptying the clip. Her hand drops to her side and silence descends, falling over us like a blanket. I move in front of her. She’s standing as still as a statue, even her breaths are barely distinguishable. Her eyes are closed and her expression almost serene.

  “Morte,” I whisper.

  Her eyes flash open and there’s nothing there. She looks exactly as she did all those months ago: dead, inhuman, emotionless. She tilts her head to the side and it only adds to her animalistic quality. I’ve always had a healthy respect for this side of her, even as I’m attracted to it. This is the part of her that will sever a man’s head without blinking, and if that isn’t hot, then I don’t know what is. I reach out and stroke her cheek gently. Again, her eyes close and she leans into my touch, releasing a long breath. I move closer to her and she surprises me by tilting her head back and pressing her lips to mine. I grasp her waist, holding her close as she strokes her tongue over my bottom lip, and that’s when I feel the barrel of her gun press into my stomach. I pull back and lock eyes with her, our faces barely an inch apart.

  “Are you going to shoot me, Morte?”

  Her expression is blank again, completely indifferent. Damn, she’s good. “He’s coming,” she says, her eyes going distant.

  “Who’s coming?”

  She doesn’t answer, so I grab her face, forcing her to focus on me. She presses the gun harder into my stomach. “Who?” I ask.

  “Nicholai. He knows. He’s coming for us.” She clenches her teeth and a deep frown etches into her features. “He’ll never stop now. There is nowhere I can hide, nowhere I can run. Even if I go to him, it won’t be enough. He will want the baby.”

  I frown. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  She swallows heavily and drops her gaze to the ground. “All I wanted was to do something good. Just one good thing in a whole lifetime of bad. Have a baby. Give it to a family who would love it. And now…”

  I stroke my thumb over her cheekbone. “Now nothing. He will not touch you, do you hear me? Never.”

  She glances at me, and for the first time since I met Una, I see real, genuine fear in those violet eyes of hers. “You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

  “Why does he want a baby?”

  She squeezes her eyes shut. “Because we bred him the perfect soldier,” she whispers. The words send a chill up my spine, and I really see the kind of life Una grew up in. I knew she was Elite. I knew she was trained from a young age, but I thought Nicholai cared about her in his sick way. This is more than that. This is insanity. “And now…I have no choice,” she says. “I have to try and outrun him.” She takes a deep breath. “I have one bullet left. I don’t want to shoot you, Nero, so let me go.”

  “So shoot me, but you’d better kill me, because if you leave, I will chase you to the ends of the earth.” Her jaw tenses and the g
un twists in her hand, digging into my ribs. “When are you going to realize that you aren’t alone?”

  She falters for a second, and then she drops to a crouch, resting the hilt of the gun against her forehead. “I should have gotten rid of it,” she whispers. “I was so stupid, so fucking selfish to think that I could do this.”

  “Morte, you forget who you are, who we are.” She glances up at me. “We don’t run. I will ask you one more time, do you trust me?” I hold my hand out to her and she stares at it for a second before locking eyes with me again.

  “Promise me one thing,” she says with a nod. “If he comes for me, don’t let him take me.”

  “Never.”

  “I mean it, Nero. If you have to kill me to keep me from him, then you do it.”

  “Una…”

  “You have no idea what he will do to me, what he will do with this baby.” She looks so desolate, as though this is her only option, a resigned fate. “I…I will never get out of that place.”

  I close my eyes and swallow heavily. Can I promise her that? Could I kill her and my child to save them from that crazy Russian fuck? I open my eyes and look at her, and I see how much she needs me to say I’ll do this. “Okay,” I say and she nods, slipping her hand into mine as I pull her to her feet. She steps closer to me, pressing her cheek against my chest. I wrap my arms around her slowly, holding her to me for long minutes. “Were you really going to shoot me?” I finally ask.

  She pulls away and I release her. “You shouldn’t ask questions you already know the answer to.” I cock a brow and she rolls her eyes. “It wouldn’t have been fatal,” she says before turning around.

  “Reassuring,” I mumble, following her back through the woods.

  As soon as we break the treeline, Gio, Tommy, and two soldiers are standing there, guns in hand and waiting. Gio glares at Una and she gives him a one fingered salute before strutting past him, her hips swinging with every step. Tommy peels off and follows her. God knows he’s the safest around her.

  “Could you stop staring at her ass long enough to tell me what the fuck is going on?” Gio says impatiently.

  I turn to face him. “The Russian is coming. I want all our best men to be ready to leave in an hour.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “The penthouse. It’s impossible to breach, and that makes it the safest place we have.” Part of me wants to take Una and run, but I’ve never run from anything. I feel as though I’m being torn in two. The more primitive part of me, is warring with this new part, this instinct that needs to protect that baby at any cost. But the fact is, Una and I are feared for a reason. She’s told me that we can’t do this, that our world is dangerous. The irony is that in order to protect that baby, we need to be exactly what we are: formidable, feared and powerful. That, I can do.

  Una hasn’t said a word, the entire ride from the Hamptons. The second we get into the penthouse, she heads for the stairs. I can tell she’s scared. That in and of itself should frighten me. I discuss a few things with the guys. Security, shifts, intelligence on the ground, and then I climb the stairs and push the bedroom door ajar. Light from the hallway spills into the dark room, and I can just make out Una on the bed. George lays beside her, his head resting on her chest as she runs her fingers over the top of his head.

  I walk in, and George leaps up, running out of the room. I swear that dog turns into a total rebel when she’s around.

  I strip out of my suit, and go take a shower. The hot water pummels my tense muscles, but does nothing to help. I’m wound so damn tight. I need to either fight or fuck. When I walk back into the bedroom, Una is lying on her back, staring at the ceiling. Her lips are pressed together in a tight line and she has that determined look in her eye that she sometimes gets. I go to the closet and pull on a pair of boxers before I get into bed. I prop up on my elbow and watch her for a few moments.

  “What’s going through that mind of yours, Morte?”

  “It was all so pointless.” She takes a deep breath and turns her head to the side. “I was willing to sacrifice anything for this baby.”

  I frown. “You would have left,” I say, remembering our conversation, her telling me she didn’t want to be a mother. Something about it didn’t sit right with me. No one goes to that much effort for a life they would happily walk away from.

  “As long as Nicholai didn’t think it was mine, it would have been safe. So yes, I would have stayed away.”

  I release a heavy breath. “Una…”

  “But the time for selfless acts has passed. He just brought a war to our doorstep.” Her eyes lock with mine and she sits up, dragging her nails over my jaw as she brushes her lips across mine. “I don’t know that we can win, but I need you,” she breathes against my mouth. “We kill them all, or we die trying.” There’s my queen, bloodstained crown in place.

  I smile and wrap a hand around the back of her neck, rolling on top of her. “I live for fucking war.”

  “Then we slaughter everyone that would do us harm,” she says.

  Fuck, she’s hot when she’s violent. She bites my bottom lip and rakes her nails down my back, making me groan. I wrench the button of her jeans so hard that it pops off, and then, I’m sitting up, tugging the material down her legs along with her underwear. Sliding my hands under her ass, I wrench her up and press my mouth over her. A staggered moan leaves her lips as she threads her fingers though my hair, pulling me closer. She rolls her hips, pushing against my mouth as I thrust my tongue inside her. Suddenly, she loops one leg around the back of my neck, and squeezes, choke holding me as she flips me onto my back. She lands with her thighs straddling my face and her pussy on my lips. I smile and drag my tongue up the length of her as she fucks my face. She leans back and braces one hand against my stomach, moving rhythmically. I grab her hips and pitch up off the bed, yanking her closer. Her entire body stills and tenses and long moans slip past her lips. I love watching her break for me, because I know Una doesn’t break. Not for anyone. This right here, is a rarity, a gift that she gives me because she sees me as being strong enough to take it from her.

  Her body goes limp and I toss her to the side, getting to my knees and flipping her onto her font. She pants heavily and her skin is coated in a fine mist of sweat. I yank her hips up in the air and slam two fingers inside her, forcing a choked breath from her. She presses her face into her arm, muffling her moans.

  “I fucking want you, Morte.” Gripping a handful of her hair, I pull her up onto her hands and wrench her head to the side. Her back presses against my chest, skin sliding over skin as I kiss up the side of her neck. She trembles and her breaths become pants with every brush of my mouth over her. “You’re mine,” I breathe against her ear. I slide my hand up the front of her body and wind it around her throat, pulling her to her knees. She glances over her shoulder and pushes back against me. Gripping her hip tightly, I slide into her in one thrust.

  Lust and violence swirl between us, mixing with a mutual need to protect the same thing. For the first time, Una and I are completely on the same team and I can feel the power of that. We are one, and we will be fucking unstoppable.

  She grips my wrist, digging her nails into my skin as she twists her head to the side and kisses me. I grit my teeth because she feels like heaven. I will never get enough of her, never grow tired. Everything about her challenges and pushes me, and I crave her. I need her at my side.

  My name falls from her lips, and then she’s moaning, her back bowing as she pushes back against me. I love seeing her like this, completely vulnerable just for me. She clenches around me and I groan as pleasure fires through my body. I tell her she’s mine, but as I come, I know without a doubt, that she owns part of me.

  “Fuck!” A low throaty groan slips from my lips. Her nails rake down my arm as my fingers tighten around her throat. We both pitch forward, and I rest my face between her shoulder blades, breathing hard over her damp skin. Eventually, she rolls onto her back. She looks so fucking inno
cent, her white-blonde hair messy, her cheeks flushed, and her body swollen with the baby I put in her. I press my lips to hers and work down her chest, sucking one nipple into my mouth as I go. And then, I press a kiss against the taught skin of her stomach. “No baby will ever be more protected,” I murmur, glancing up at Una.

  She arches a brow. “I think most people just buy a minivan and tape up the electrical sockets.”

  “We aren’t most people, Morte.”

  She sits up, bringing her face close to mine. Her brows pull together and a small line sinks between them. “Is this what fear feels like?”

  “Maybe.”

  She rubs at her chest. “I feel like I’m unravelling and everything I’ve ever known is being picked apart a thread at a time. Maybe I’m just not meant for this?”

  “No one was ever more suited.” She’s vicious and dangerous, and I pity anyone who ever tries to hurt her child. She may not be classic mother material, but you only have to look at the animal kingdom to see that the best mothers are also the most lethal ones.

  When I wake up in the morning, Una is gone and, as per usual, I have to go in search of her. I find her standing in front of Gio, her arms folded over her chest as she glares at him. “I’m going to count to three, and then I’m going to snap your neck and leave your body right here for Nero to find,” she says, her tone ice cold.

  “I’m not…” Gio starts.

  “One,” she counts as I walk up behind her and kiss her neck before moving past the pair of them in search of coffee. “Two.”

  “Why are you counting him down?” I squint at her.

  She glares over Gio’s shoulder. “I want my guns, and he won’t give them to me.”

  I sigh and brace my hands on the kitchen side, waiting for the black nectar to brew. “Gio, I’ve got this.”

  Gio walks away, shaking his head as he goes. “No, you have not got this,” Una says as she strides up to me, a fierce glare on her face.