Kiss Me (Kiss of Death Book 2)

by LP Lovell

  “Always,” she whispers. “I love you.”

  I lift my face from her neck and lock eyes with her. “You are mine, Morte. He will never have you.”

  31

  Una

  I jolt awake and take a moment to realize where I am. Neros’ bed. Sleeping next to him almost seemed like a dream to me. The first whispers of morning light trickle through the darkness, painting the room in tones of gray. I glance over at Nero, his dark lashes casting shadows over his cheekbones. His face is something I thought I had committed to memory, and five months isn’t that long, but I had started to forget just how beautiful he is. A stray lock of dark hair falls over his forehead and it makes him look a little unruly.

  I hear the slightest noise from somewhere in the house and I turn away from Nero, silently climbing out of bed and leaving the room. I go to the nursery and open the door, going to Dante. He’s wide awake, his stumpy little legs thrashing around as he stares up at me with eyes the exact same shade as my own. His head is covered in a downy layer of dark hair that’s sticking up in every direction. Smiling, I lean down and scoop him up, bringing his tiny body against mine. It’s as though every frayed nerve, every broken facet of me all comes together, healing under his innocent touch. He makes me feel whole. He gives me purpose. I kiss his soft hair, inhaling the scent of him, a smell that is unlike anything else in this world.

  I take him downstairs with me and hold him while I make coffee. George lingers around my feet, wagging his tail excitedly. I open the fridge and stare at bottles of formula. There’s some kind of machine sitting on the kitchen side. I have no idea what to do. I wave of sadness hits me because I’ve missed all this. I don’t even know how to care for him. Dante makes this noise and then he’s crying, well, more like wailing.

  “Shh, stop. It’s okay.” I’m frantically glancing around for something that might make him stop when Nero appears in the doorway, his thick arms folded over his bare chest and a small smirk on his lips.

  “He’s a grouchy fuck in the mornings,” he says. I hold Dante out to him and he takes him from me. I smile at the two of them with matching bed hair. Nero and I are naturally drawn to each other’s blood thirsty nature, but he’s never been sexier than he is holding that baby.

  “What does he want?” I ask.

  “He wants what all guys want, to eat and take a shit.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Gross.”

  “Or in his case, he shit his pants and now he’s not happy about it. Isn’t that right, dude?” Nero lifts Dante, shaking his head at Dante’s little, scrunched up, squalling face. “Be back in a second. Can you put a bottle in the machine for a few minutes?” He disappears and I’m left staring at the contraption, feeling completely useless.

  A little while later and Nero comes back, handing me Dante again. I take him and Nero smiles down at him before he goes to that stupid machine, putting the bottle in it. I move closer, taking note of how it works. His lips pull up in a wry smile. “Guns are much easier,” he says, leaning against the counter. He reaches for me, gripping my hips and pulling me between his legs. My muscles bunch and tighten reflexively, but it’s nothing compared to my usual reaction to being touched. He strokes my hair back off my face and I tentatively scratch my nails over the stubble of his jaw. He turns his face and presses a kiss on the inside of my wrist. My skin tingles under his lips and goosebumps dot my skin. The small but intimate contact feels like a fire after I’ve been living in the freezing cold. He steps closer to me, pressing Dante between our bodies. His fingers dance over my cheek and I flinch, but otherwise make no move.

  “I missed you, Morte,” he says, his dark eyes locking with mine.

  I missed him as well. More than I can say. I tilt my chin up, brushing my lips over his. He kisses me, trailing his fingers to the back of my neck and pulling me close. This feels right and strong. It feels like everything I’m fighting for. Dante starts to fidget, letting out a high-pitched squeal. I pull away from Nero and glance down at the tiny person.

  “Way to cock block me kid,” Nero says, turning around and removing the bottle from the machine. He splashes a bit of milk on his wrist and then hands the bottle to me. “All yours.”

  I take a seat at the breakfast bar and cradle Dante in one arm, holding the bottle in front of him. He sucks loudly and I can’t help but smile as I watch him.

  “This is the way it should have been,” Nero says quietly. I look up at him. He has his elbows braced on the breakfast bar, clasping a cup of coffee as he watches us.

  “How did you do this? Where did you learn how to take care of a baby?”

  He smiles. “Tommy’s mom has been helping.” He shrugs. “And the rest, you kind of learn as you go.” To think there was a time when I thought he wouldn’t want a baby, when I was going to deprive him of being a father. In the tiny glimpse I’ve had of them together, I can see that Nero is an amazing father. It brings me more relief than I can say. If I fail to kill Nicholai, if I die, Dante will have everything he needs in Nero.

  “I don’t want to leave him.”

  “Then don’t,” he growls, his dark eyes flashing. “Stay here. Turn your back on this fucking idea."

  “Nero, it’s been five months. I gave up the first four months of Dante’s life so that I could keep him safe and remove Nicholai. I’m so close.”

  He puts his coffee down and places his palms flat on the breakfast bar. The muscles of his torso flex and roll as he shifts, the ink on his arms seeming to dance over his skin with every move. “We are stronger together. Look at what he’s done to you!”

  “I just need more time.”

  “Do you know what it’s like? Not knowing what he’s doing to you? Not knowing whether you’ll come back alive?”

  “You forget who I am,” I whisper.

  “No!” His jaw clenches, his body thrumming with repressed rage. “I do not fucking forget. But by the time he’s done with you, will I know who you are? Will you?”

  “Yes,” I respond. Nero and I, we are unbreakable. The things Nicholai has done to me…Nero should be nothing more than a distant memory. Dante, more like a dream. I should have been able to kill Nero and instead, he brings me back, he grounds me the same way he always has.

  "You are his prize toy, and if he thinks he can’t have you, no one will.”

  I sigh and put the nearly empty bottle down on the counter. Standing up, I round the bar and hand him Dante. He takes him, throwing a dish cloth over his shoulder before pressing his palm to Dante’s back and hugging him close. Never did a man look so out of place and yet completely at home with something so fragile in his arms. My son in the arms of my monster. There’s nowhere else I’d rather him be. “Please trust me, Nero.” I push up on tiptoes, kissing him quickly and then the back of Dante’s head. “I am his weakness. I blind him.”

  “If anything happens to you, I will slaughter the bratva piece by piece until there is nothing left.” That violence I love so much swirls in his eyes, threatening to spill over.

  “I have a plan. I need your help.”

  He smirks. “Ah, Morte, tell me what you need and it will be done." Of course it will, because he’s Nero Verdi. Nicholai thinks himself invincible because no one can stand against him, but I haven’t unveiled my secret weapon yet. I haven’t unleashed my monster. Nicholai has no idea what we are capable of.

  The entire drive from the airport to base, I think through the plan in my head. This will work. This has to work. Part of me wants to turn around and go back to Nero, to let him face this fight with me, but I can’t. I’ve come too far to turn back now. I have risked everything to take Nicholai down, and I will succeed, or die trying. This will be my legacy, that which I leave my son.

  I pull up to the compound gates and they allow me straight through. When I pull the SUV into the vehicle bay, Nicholai is there, waiting. I get out of the car and walk over to him. His hands are clasped behind his back, his suit as immaculate as ever.

  “Little dove. I see you
are disappointingly empty handed,” he says, sweeping a hand though his graying hair in agitation.

  I have to force myself back into that cold unfeeling place as far away from Nero as possible. “The child was not there.”

  “Oh? And is Nero Verdi dead?” Those ice-cold eyes fix with mine, looking for any minute trace of deception.

  “Verdi has sent the child away for protection.” The lie slips easily from my lips as I stare unblinkingly at him. “I gained his trust to ascertain information. He is not dead. I may yet need to use him.”

  His eyes narrow. “He is in love with you.”

  “Yes.”

  “And he believes you in love with him?”

  “Yes.”

  He sighs. “And where is the child?”

  “With Rafael D’Cruze.”

  “He sent the child to your sister.” He laughs, clapping his hands together. “And what did you tell him, little dove?”

  “I told him that he needs to forget me. I said I would ensure the child’s safety but that this is my place,” I say robotically.

  He nods. “Good. This is good.” There’s an edge to his voice, and I know he doesn’t trust me.

  “Do you know the exact location of the child?”

  “Yes. He is being kept in Rafael’s compound near the border,” I relay the location Nero and I picked. “But we must move quickly. I do not think he trusts me.”

  “You and Sasha will assemble a team. You will go to Mexico and retrieve the child. Kill Rafael D’Cruze. And kill your sister,” he says, lifting one eyebrow to drive the point home.

  “Yes.” I start to turn away.

  “And little dove?” I pause. “I will come with you to Mexico. I do not trust you to do what must be done.” If he weren’t so blinded by his obsession with me, he wouldn’t trust me at all. Perhaps in his own twisted way he loves me. After all, they say love is blind. He wants so badly to believe that I am once again his loyal, favorite daughter that he ignores what is right in front of him. How could my loyalty possibly be to him when my child is out there? If he had children, if he knew what that love feels like, Nicholai would not trust me. But his obsessive, sick version of love leads him to his own destruction. It will be me, his precious daughter who slices out his heart.

  I’m so close I can almost smell his blood tinging the air. The game is so nearly over.

  32

  Una

  I step off the plane and walk beside Sasha to the Range Rover parked a few feet away. The humid heat clings to my skin, wrapping around me like a blanket. Sasha gets in the driver’s side and I hop in beside him. Three Elite climb in the back, all clutching rifles to their chests, their expressions serious and focused. The sun is just starting to drop below the ragged skyline of Juarez in the distance. The address we’re going to is Rafael’s mansion, a few miles outside of the city.

  Nicholai insisted that we land and go straight in before anyone could get word of our presence to the cartel. I glance at Sasha, but he keeps his eyes firmly on the road. The city is a mess of graffiti-covered buildings, pothole filled roads, and general disarray. This is cartel country, where the daily number of murders is higher than some countries have in a year. These streets may look like a city of people going about their business, but it’s a war zone with the cartels continuously fighting for ground.

  Our convoy of cars winds through the streets that lead out of the city, dropping into a valley that runs between the ragged dusty hills of the Mexican countryside. We come to a stop on a dirt road about a mile from Rafael’s main gate. We get out and go to the back of the car, arming ourselves with weapons. Sasha’s gaze meets mine and he gives me the tiniest nod.

  Altogether we have twenty Elite, which is more than I hoped he would bring, but you roll with the punches. Nicholai gets out of the car behind ours, his suit no less suited to the dusty desert of Mexico than it is to the icy expanse of Russia. He glances around his assembled soldiers, all clad in black and armed to the teeth. “Your mission is to go into the compound and retrieve the child. Kill everyone.” His eyes meet mine, and I know he’s making a point, because everyone includes Anna. “Do not fail me,” he says without looking away from me.

  We turn and start jogging towards the compound. Sasha and I are running point. The rest of the soldiers follow us. The sun beats down on us and sweat trickles down my back as we make our way up to the compound. As soon as we near the perimeter fence, we take cover behind a small rise of earth.

  “Guards,” Sasha says to me.

  One of the others hands me a made-up rifle and I pull the stand down, resting it on the top of the ridge. Staring down the sights, I line up both guards, focusing the crosshair just to the left of the first guy’s shoulder. I have to be accurate here. Deep breath in, hold, squeeze—squeeze. Two shots fire off in quick succession and both guards go down. The shots have more cartel soldiers rushing towards the gates, and I fire at them too, watching them drop one by one.

  “Move,” I shout. Sasha leads the band of Elite to the front gate, breaching the compound. This is where it gets complicated. “You two,” I signal to two of the Elite. “With me.” Sasha nods as he continues on with the rest of the group. I take the two and split off, moving through the house until I find the stairway that leads upstairs. I ascend the stairs, gripping my pistol. Reaching in my front pocket, I quickly screw a silencer onto my gun. I tune my senses to the two men walking behind me, hearing every muted footfall, every drawn breath. We reach the top of the stairs and walk down the hall, passing a couch scattered with cushions. I whirl around, yanking the knife from my thigh holster and throwing it at the same time as I grab one of the cushions, shoving it against the face of the guy on the left. I knock him off balance just enough that he staggers to the wall. I spot the flash of steel and bow my body away from him just as I press the gun against the cushion and pull the trigger. A muted pop sounds. The tip of the knife nicks across the skin of my stomach before his body falls to the floor. I glance down at the blood seeping through my tank top and sigh before retrieving my knife from the other guy’s skull.

  Following Rafael’s instructions, I find the last door at the end of the hall. Rafael’s office. He’s not here, but the windows have a full view all around the compound. My mission right now is simple: remove the Elite and clear the compound. I tried to persuade Sasha to turn them, bring them to our side, but it was too risky. We couldn’t let anyone know that we weren’t with Nicholai. Elite loyalties run deep where he’s concerned.

  I glance out each of the windows until I spot the group of four Elite crossing the courtyard, guns raised. I rest my rifle on the windowsill and line up the shot. All four of them are down within two seconds. All that training, all those years of fighting, and they didn’t even have the dignity of a decent death. They died as they lived, as cannon fodder for a mad man. Six down. Fourteen more to go.

  33

  Nero

  I drum my fingers over the steering wheel anxiously, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. Gio sighs and slumps down in his seat as he fiddles with the buttons for the air conditioning. The sun glares off the hood of the car and I squint into the rear-view mirror at the car parked behind me. On cue, I watch as a cloud of dust kicks up from the road that cuts through the valley below us. I pick up the binoculars and watch the convey of black Range Rovers wind along the empty desert road, their tinted windows hiding their occupants. They pull over to the shoudler and all the doors open, soldiers clad in black climbing out and arming themselves. I spot Sasha and Una standing at the head of what must be twenty Elite.

  “Fuck, that’s a lot of Elite,” I murmur, a feeling of unease creeping through me. It’s too many. Una and Sahsa are good, and they have the help of Rafael’s men, but Twenty highly trained Elite? They’re not invincible.

  “How many?” Gio asks.

  “Maybe twenty.”

  “I’ll go and tell Rafael.” The door opens and hot, dusty air fills the cabin before the door slams again.

&nbs
p; I smile when the back door of the second Range Rover opens and Nicholai Ivanov steps out in his suit. Una said he would come, but I didn’t believe it. He’s known for his sharp intellect and his strategic skill, but this—coming here—surely he’s not that arrogant? He’s completely exposed, ripe for the picking. Even with his Elite…this is cartel country. And, of course, he couldn’t possibly predict what Sasha and Una are about to do to his precious Elite, or maybe he could have, if he weren’t so obsessed with Una and the idea of having her child. It’s exactly as she said; he’s blinded by her. He’ll never even see her coming.

  The band of Elite disperse, heading up the hillside and leaving Nicholai alone with only two Elite to protect him. Stupid. So very stupid. The door opens and Gio gets back in.

  “He’s here. Only two guards with him,” I say.

  His eyes narrow and his lips press into a line. “This seems too easy.”

  I nod. “I’m not sure whether it’s a trap, or he really is that sure of his force.”

  Gio sighs heavily. “It seems to go against his nature, but then he did come deep into Rafael’s territory once before to get Anna.”

  I tap my finger over the wheel. This is too good of an opportunity. Sasha would have warned us if they had brought more force. Una might be kept in the dark, but not Sasha.

  “Lets go.” I glance in the rear-view mirror again, meeting Rafael’s hard gaze as he sits behind the wheel of the other car. Anna sits beside him in the passenger seat despite me telling him that Una wouldn’t like it. Apparently, he thinks she’s safest where he can keep an eye on her. If only Una were so easy to control. I start the engine and pull away, sending the Hummer down the steep hillside, kicking up dust and rubble in its wake.