Shadowed: A Hitman Mafia Romance (Team Zero Book 4)

by Rina Kent

  I can’t help but laugh. Crow is the only Team Zero member who escaped Hades, but he had to fake his own death in the process. That joker card has been placed on Dr Johnson’s daughter, the godfather of Omega. We were supposed to kill her for her daddy’s sins. Crow ruined it by falling in love with her. He threatened to kill us all.

  It was strange how Crow could change that way. Like me, he only cared about himself, but since he met that French nurse, it’s like someone hit a fucking switch.

  I’ll never understand how people change to please others.

  Others just disappoint you.

  After Flame leaves to continue his endless slumber, my eyes roam back in Le Salon. Zoe hasn’t shown up yet, and I’ve been tempted to climb into her room’s window since three nights ago after the lake house.

  Actually, I did. Twice. Like a guard from hell, Scar’s unpleasant existence was at the window pane every time.

  She and Mist are being a pain in the arse.

  Finishing what I started with Zoe that night isn’t a need, it’s a necessity. Just the memory of her body melting into mine and my marks on her soft, pale skin makes my dick hard. Her moans, her screams, and her struggles are engraved in the depth of my soul. Just like every fucking monster, I want more.

  I want everything.

  Zoe is the first woman who fights me. I thought I liked them chained, but with her, I love the struggle more. I crave her wild spirit, but I’ll enjoy slamming past her defences more.

  She says I’m hollow, and I’m so fucking tempted to make her as hollow as me.

  Break her.

  Destroy her.

  Claim her.

  Just thinking about the moment she’ll be completely mine makes my dick strain against my jeans.

  I adjust the bulge, not wanting to appear like a fucking schoolboy. I lost count of the times I jerked off to her memory from that night.

  This can’t go on.

  I stand, bent on breaking her room’s door if I have to. If Scar gets in the way, I’ll throw her out of the window. That psycho doll should know better than to fuck with me.

  My movements stop.

  I feel her before seeing her. A sixth sense or Omega or whatever the fuck it is, I just do.

  Zoe appears from around the corner with Scar. She’s wearing a tight, little blue dress that shows the slightest hint of her pale tits and hugs her delicate curves.

  My eyes rake over her from the bottom up. Those sublime legs that wrapped around me when she wrestled me down. Those hips I held onto when I ate her up. Her sweet taste still lingers on my tongue.

  The brightest green eyes inspect her surroundings, but she’s not looking at me. She hasn’t looked at me since that day — not that she can see me from this angle. She used to drive me fucking mad with her defiance and constant glares, but now, she’s avoiding me.

  I might have pushed her too far. Too bad I don’t fucking care. She’s pushing me, too, and I hold bloody grudges.

  Scar finally lets her go and Zoe swiftly disappears behind the bar. I empty my glass, slam it on the counter and stalk towards her. A bartender bows his head in respect. I nod back and motion for him to take the other side. He obeys without a word.

  Zoe is perched under the bar. At this angle, I have a clear view of that tight little arse in the dress that begs for my hands on it.

  She searches for something while holding a phone to her ear. Since it’s the beginning of the night, the music is tame, so I can hear what she says loud and clear.

  “The noise? Ah, yeah, I’m out with friends.”

  I stand right behind her, cross my arms and ankles and lean against the wall. She’s lying. But to whom? That boyfriend of hers?

  Red covers my vision at the thought of someone else having her, touching her, tasting her.

  I’m tempted to place a joker card on that boyfriend. Scratch that. No Zero will take my fun. Killing him will be mine and mine alone.

  Did she also tell him that she came all over my mouth? I might have to find him and tell him that myself — before I crush his skull.

  “I miss you soooo much, Rage Ball.” Zoe does a kissing sound and hangs up.

  “Who’s Rage Ball?” I ask. She even has a nickname for the bastard?

  Zoe jerks back and bumps her head against the counter above. She falls to her arse, groans, and cuts me a glare over her shoulder. Her nose crinkles when she does that, and it looks adorable.

  I can’t help but grin even though her phone call put me in a murderous mood.

  She rubs on the spot where she was hit and winces. “This is stalkerish, you know.”

  “Do I look like I care?”

  She stands and points a finger at my chest. “I guess I was naïve enough to believe that maybe something might grow here.”

  My grin widens, but I jerk her hand free. I hate how she keeps throwing those words around like I’m not worth her time or energy.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “That’s because I don’t want to.”

  “Hmmm.” I trace her cheek with my index finger. She visibly softens, and I take sick pleasure in how much I can make her loathe and want me.

  “I’ll find out myself.” I squeeze her jaw between my thumb and forefinger. “It won’t be pretty.”

  Panic resides in the depth of her green gates. It’s too similar to that day when I forced her to her knees.

  When I retrieve my hand, she takes it back in her softer ones, a plea covering her features. “Don’t. Please.”

  My jaw hardens. She cares about the bastard enough to beg me. It’s not doing him any favours because my murderous thoughts spiral out of control. If anything, I’m going to torture him before granting him the mercy of death.

  Zoe already feels like mine, and I’ll be damned if I let some arsehole take her away from me.

  “She has nothing to do with all this.” Her voice trembles at the end.

  I pause my assassination plots, feeling foolish. A feeling I didn’t have in… forever. “Who is she?”

  “My friend.” She peeks up at me from beneath her lashes. “You’ll leave her alone, right?”

  “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  I approach her until I’m breathing her sweet, head-turning scent. Citrus. I never thought that shit could smell this good. “Tell me why you have the mini panic attacks.”

  All fear purges out of her face and that familiar defiance takes place. “Tell me what happened to you between leaving Nonna and now.”

  “Zoe,” I warn.

  “You don’t get to know everything about me while I know nothing about you. That’s not how this works.”

  “This?”

  She throws a hand in the air. “Whatever this is.”

  “You seem to be under a misconception.” I clutch her bare arm and yank her forward until her full tits crush against my chest. “There’s no this. I take what I want and that’s it.” I grin. “Got it, beautiful?”

  Disappointment and hurt flash on her face. I hate myself for it. I only wanted to keep her at a distance, but it’s backfiring.

  Everything backfires when it comes to Zoe.

  She quickly tucks her feelings away and flushes me a bored look. “You won’t be getting anything from me anymore, so you better find a new toy.” She mimics my smile. “Got it, monster?”

  I’m preparing a few choice words for her, but she pushes past me. I stare at her back as she saunters to the storeroom. Two clear thoughts run in my head.

  One, I can’t let her close because the ugliness will be repulsive.

  Two, I want her close so she’d see it all and I can swallow her whole.

  “What are you doing?” Ghost appears by my side, his gaze focused and calculative.

  He’s been keeping me on a tight leash these days. He knows boxing helps with purging the extra energy so we go at it every morning for hours on end.

  I run a hand through my hair. “Mate, I don’t know what Mist has told you, but I
’m in top shape.”

  “Mist doesn’t have to tell me anything. One look into your eyes and it’s as clear as damn day.” He bores his dark gaze into mine. “They’ve been robotic for weeks now. Are you even detoxing?”

  I break eye contact but smile. “Detoxification works differently for each of us. Remember?”

  “You’re the only one without progress.” Ghost sighs and softens his tone. “What is this about?”

  “Are we going to have a moment now?” I tease. “I love you, mate, but I’m not ready for a committed relationship.”

  His expression remains stone cold.

  I leave him and start down the hall. “Don’t make a castle out of a molehill. It’s nothing.”

  He falls into step with me. “The saying is: don’t make a mountain of a molehill.”

  “Same thing.” I quicken my pace, hoping he’ll go.

  No such fucking luck.

  “I’ve known you for decades. I might not remember much from when we were Omega-heavy, but I know when you’re hiding something.”

  “I’m not,” I grit out.

  “Mist is right. Zoe doesn’t deserve this drugged part of you.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “So now you’re Team Mist?”

  “I’m Team Logic. Have you looked in the mirror? You appear like a shadow of a person.” He pauses, and I know that whatever he’ll say next won’t be to my liking. “Are you scared that if you detox, you’ll go back to being that boy from decades ago?”

  My jaw clenches. “That boy is dead.”

  Ghost’s gaze roams over me like he’s searching for a shard of the past, but maybe he sees the hollowness, too. “Is he?”

  “Nonna, am I hollow?”

  She’s completely unfazed by my weird, sudden question. She sits across from me in her office with that flannel blanket on her knees and takes a sip from her tea, appearing deep in thoughts.

  “Sometimes.”

  I sip my own tea while dealing with a splitting headache. I cut down on Omega and those elf bitches take the chance to dig into my head. Good luck trying to conquer my head, bitches.

  Ghost’s words from two days ago have gotten to me. Not to mention that he’s been surveilling me.

  It’s one thing to be called hollow, but it’s entirely another to feel like someone with no purpose or need in life. Like I could die any second and no one would miss me.

  Except for Ghost and Nonna.

  Maybe that’s why I don’t want them to see me as an empty box.

  Nonna’s thin lips pull in a faint smile. “I still believe that my Angelo is there somewhere.”

  “What if he isn’t?”

  “Listen here, boy. Since you refuse to tell me, I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I sense my Angelo in the room, so give him back.”

  I smile faintly. “Angelo was Rubbish Boy. He reminds me of the weakness, the cold, and being beaten up to bloody unconsciousness. I refuse to be that weakling again.”

  Nonna stands and approaches me with measured steps. She holds my face in her wrinkled hands and gives me a stern look. “Being beaten up isn’t bad. It means you survived and continue surviving, but this?” She taps my forehead. “Building walls in your mind doesn’t mean you’re strong. It means you’re hiding.” Nonna offers her warm smile that’s full of nostalgia. “My Angelo might not have had the physical strength, but he never backed down or hid and always remained strong.” She smacks me on the shoulder. “Give him back.”

  I lower my head and focus on the old tiles, unable to look her in the eyes. I don’t know how to fulfil her wish. I’ve been Shadow for as long as I can remember. Any other route seems too late now.

  How can someone fill themselves up after being at peace with the emptiness?

  The void meant feeling nothing. Fucking nix. I was able to kill and have fun without bothering with the consequences. Now, I’m supposed to erase that and start anew?

  Start where? With fucking emotions?

  I don’t do those. I can quit Omega – if I want to, but then what? I won’t be as efficient without that drug pumping through my veins.

  “Where’s Zoe?” Nonna asks from her seat.

  The mere mention of her name puts me in a darkened mood. She’s been true to her words and erased me as if I didn’t exist. Add Mist’s meddling and I don’t even get to see her in the main club anymore.

  I couldn’t give two fucks about seeing Zoe. She started this whole mess by digging her nose where it didn’t belong.

  “Don’t know,” I tell Nonna. “Don’t fucking care.”

  “Language!” Nonna would’ve swatted me if she were in reaching distance.

  I grin.

  “She was supposed to come today to read for the children.” Nonna sips her tea and sighs.

  “As long as I’m here, she probably won’t show up.”

  She appears thoughtful for a moment. “When my Giovanni angered me, he bought me something nice and I didn’t have the heart to stay mad at him. Give her a present. She might forgive you.”

  “I don’t need her forgiveness.” I stand. “Call her and tell her I’m gone. She’ll show up.”

  “Wait.” She rounds the table and takes her time in sticking a key into a drawer’s ancient lock. Mental note: change Nonna’s locks.

  She retrieves the box that contains the necklace. Before I can roll my eyes and refuse her yet again, Nonna raises a hand, shushing me.

  “I’ve been asking around in jewellery shops, in hope to know who could’ve bought this.”

  “Nonna…”

  “Don’t interrupt me, boy.” She wiggles the box at me. “The bad news is that all of them agreed this is custom made, probably in someplace in the meditarrenian. This jewel apparently costs millions, Angelo. All the ones I showed them the necklace wanted to buy it.”

  “Nonna, I really don’t give a fuck about those people.”

  When she doesn’t shout ‘language’ immediately and continues staring with glimmering eyes, I regret it.

  “I finally know that,” she says through a sigh. “But you should also know it shaped who you are.”

  Yeah. Whatever.

  Nonna trudges to me and stuffs the box in my hand. “You can give this as a present to Zoe so she’d forgive you.”

  For a second, I imagine the necklace around Zoe’s neck and against her pale complexion. She’ll always have something of mine on her.

  The fuck? I shouldn’t be taking Nonna’s advice.

  When I attempt to push the box back into her hand, she swats me and doesn’t let me leave until the necklace is tucked in my back pocket.

  The wind slaps my face as soon as I’m out of the kindergarten. Lachlan will stay because Natalie is here, and he’s turning into a ring on her finger. She’s no longer hanging out with Zoe, probably because Scar is taking the role of her bodyguard.

  I release a long sigh, and my head throbs. Withdrawal is putting me in a sullen fucking mood as I trudge down the slums.

  My attention drifts with every step I take and I need to rest for a few. A weak killer is a useless killer, and I’m most definitely weak at the moment.

  Now I understand why Flame spends most of his time sleeping.

  I opt for a run, but before I can get out of the slums, I sense a movement behind me. I keep my nonchalant pace and take a few peeks at my surroundings. There’s no one. At least not in sight.

  It’s a professional and probably one of the second generation assassins.

  Fuck.

  This is about the worst situation I can be in. I’m less efficient when not on Omega. My reflexes are slower and so is my speed. Add a splitting headache and I’m about as useless as a crippled killer.

  However, I’m not the type who runs away from a fight.

  I stop at the middle of a dark alleyway. The smell of piss and vomits clogs my throat and worsens the headache.

  “Come out and play,” I muse.

  Silence.

  One. Two. Three.

  Now.


  I turn around, but due to the delayed reflexes, I’m late. I duck in time before the knife digs into my heart. Instead, it slashes through my shoulder.

  A tall man appears in front of me. He’s wearing a hoodie. There are cockroach tattoos peeking from his sleeves. No fucking idea why anyone would want to tattoo cockroaches — unless he’s one. But the 3D style is enough evidence this is Ink’s work. This must be one of his disciples because Ink only tattoos those he knew for at least ten years.

  “We never met, boy.” I grin despite the burning in my shoulder. Omega’s pain-suppressing effects would’ve been good right about now. “I’m from Team Zero. Ever heard of us?”

  His eyes remain focused as he charges towards me.

  I duck and hold a hand. “Before you try anything, I want you to know that I hold grudges. Walk away. You don’t stand a chance against Zeroes.”

  He doesn’t. Either he knows I’m on withdrawal or he doesn’t care.

  His second hit goes against my neck. He has better aim at my arms, but he doesn’t seem to want to touch them. Well, shit. He must not want to injure Ink’s tattoos on me.

  What type of fucked up loyalty is that?

  On a second thought, I should’ve had that bastard tattoo my entire body.

  The cockroach lunges at me again. I duck and punch him in the diaphragm. He bends over, coughing. He’s not down for long, but it’s long enough for me to retrieve my knife.

  “Last chance, cockroach.”

  He charges towards me. This time, I’m in the right position. Omega’s enhanced speed would’ve helped, but this will have to do.

  A small sound snaps both our attention to the corner. Zoe stands there, lips parting. She’s holding a bag filled with books and they almost tumble free of her grip.

  I run towards her, but I’m not used to my body without Omega, so speed fails me.

  Ink’s cockroach reaches her before me and holds his knife to her throat.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I freeze.

  My breathing comes out as a choked sound.

  A cold edge is glued to my throat as a stiff body stands behind me.

  I can’t swallow, afraid he’ll slice my throat open. My hands break in sweat around the bag of books I’m holding to my chest.