Kiss Of Death: A Dark Mafia Romance

by LP Lovell

  “Ziggie,” he says simply.

  I frown as I light my cigarette, inhaling the satisfying smoke deep into my lungs. “What about him?”

  “Jackson went to pick up last night, and it was twenty grand light. He said he’ll pay it next week, but…” He lifts one eyebrow as he inhales on his smoke. Fucks sake. Ziggie works Brooklyn, runs a gang down there. For the most part, they’re nothing more than ghetto boys and addicts, but they make me good money. Ziggie somehow manages to organize them, a feat that not many could achieve. For that reason, he’s useful to me, but this is the second time he’s taken it upon himself to borrow money. The problem with dogs like Ziggie is the second you take your heel off their throats, they bite you, even if you are the hand that feeds them. “Jackson roughed him up a bit, but well…you know what he did to him the first time.” Yeah, the first time Ziggie stole money Jackson broke both his legs. You’d think that would be an incentive not to have a repeat.

  “Okay, go and get him. Call me when you have him. I’ll handle it,” I say.

  Gio nods and pushes to his feet, stubbing out his cigarette in the ash tray. Fucking gang bangers. I don’t need this shit right now, but I have to handle it. I’m not about to let my city go to shit while I have the Russian breathing down our necks. Unfortunately, the world does keep turning, no matter what shit is going on.

  Ziggie is on his knee’s in front of me, hands clasped behind his head. “Look man,” he says. “I’ll pay you back, I promise.” Gio stands to his side, a gun pointed at his head.

  I sigh and fold my arms over my chest. “Do I look like a fucking bank, Ziggie?”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll get it for you tomorrow. Please, please don’t kill me.” His begging is pissing me off.

  “Don’t apologize to me when you aren’t sorry!” He squeezes his eyes shut, his bottom lip quivering. “You’re begging me not to kill you, so you knew the consequences.” I drop to a crouch in front of him. “Did you just think I’d let it go?”

  “Please. Tomorrow.”

  My phone starts ringing in the car, but I ignore it. It rings again and I flash an annoyed glare at Tommy who’s sitting in the passenger seat. He scrambles to answer it. I turn back to Ziggie and am about to pass judgement when the car door is thrown open.

  “Boss.” Tommy shouts.

  “I’m fucking busy, Tommy. I’ll call back.”

  “But, boss…”

  “Tommy!” I roar, turning on him. He goes quiet and drops his gaze to the floor. I know he wants to step away from me, but he doesn’t. “It’s Rafael.”

  I frown and step forward, snatching the phone from his hand. “Gio, shoot him if he moves,” I say before pressing the phone to my ear. “This is not a fucking good time.”

  “Anna’s gone,” Rafael says.

  “What? How?”

  “I had four men on her. Three were found dead half an hour ago, one barely alive. I’ve called in scouts from the edges of my territory and put a call out at the border. I’ll get her back, but you told me to keep you in the loop.”

  “Shit. Fucking get her back, Rafael or you and I are going to have a mutual problem in the form of Una.”

  He hangs up, and I drag a hand through my hair. Once. Just once, I’d like a normal day. The odd drug deal, perhaps a revenge killing, but no. I have to deal with stalker Russians, cartels, sex slave sisters, and last but not least, my pregnant and very temperamental assassin girlfriend.

  Gio meets my gaze when I turn around. I take my gun from my chest holster and point it at Ziggie’s head. “No…” Bang.

  Tommy’s eyes go wide and he rushes back to the car. “Clean this shit up!” I shout. Gio nods and I get back in the car, reversing out of the abandoned warehouse.

  “Is Anna okay?” Tommy asks quietly.

  “She better be.” Even as I say the words, I know Nicholai must have her. It’s just a feeling in my gut, expecting the worst-case scenario. The question now is: how do I restrain Una to stop her from going after her?

  When I step into the apartment, Una is nowhere to be found. Zeus comes up to greet me but, of course, George is nowhere to be seen. He’ll be with her. I hear a low thud from somewhere, followed by another. I follow the noise to the dining room.

  Una is standing on the dining room table, a crossbow raised in front of her. She squeezes the trigger and looses a bolt straight at a canvas painting hanging on the far wall. It lodges bang in the center with the other four that are already there. She’s so tiny but she looks so fierce. Her ponytail falls over her shoulder as she tilts her head to aim again.

  “That’s a thirty-grand painting.”

  She losses another bolt. “It’s ugly.”

  “It’s art.”

  “I could give George a paintbrush and ask him to replicate it if you like?” She smiles, swinging her hips as she glides to the edge of the table. Grabbing her hips, I lower her to the ground and pull her close.

  “I see your aim is as sharp as ever.”

  “Still better than yours.”

  Dropping her gaze to my chest, she traces her finger over my tie. I glance down and see the single drop of blood marring the pale blue silk. “What did I tell you about wearing black?” she says.

  “It may not show the blood, but it’s rather uncivilized.”

  Her lips twist into an amused smile. “But of course, if the devil didn’t look like an angel, he wouldn’t be so good at corrupting the innocent now, would he?”

  “Hmm.” I lean in and graze my lips over her neck, biting her earlobe. “You are very far from innocent, Morte.”

  “And you are very far from an angel.”

  I chuckle. “Come and dance around the fire with me, little butterfly.”

  “I thought I was an ugly caterpillar.”

  “Never.” I kiss her and she wraps her arms around my neck. “Wings of steel, my love.” She kisses me back. In the back of my mind, I just know there is a storm coming. Unless Rafael finds Anna in the next few hours, I’m going to have to tell Una and she’s going to lose her shit.

  21

  Una

  I’m in bed, cuddling George when my phone buzzes, dancing across the bedside table. I glance at the screen and see a Russian number. I assume it’s Sasha. Swiping the screen, I press it to my ear. “Hello.”

  “Little dove.” My stomach drops at the sound of Nicholai’s voice and I sit bolt upright, my eyes instantly surveying every inch of the room. Each and every instinct I have goes on high alert because if Nicholai can get the number to an untracked burner phone, then surely, he can get to me.

  “Nicholai.”

  “Did you get my card, and present?” he asks, almost joyfully.

  “I did.” Nicholai does things a certain way. You have to play his game and wait for him to tell you what he actually wants.

  “And I asked you to come home, little dove.”

  “I can’t do that.” I get up and glance out the window, but of course, even Nicholai can’t scale a skyscraper.

  “You wound me. But no matter. I told you I would come for you, though, I have had to go to great lengths. I’m not happy with you.”

  My whole body goes tense as his words sink in. “What lengths?” Silence. “What lengths?” I repeat, my voice rising. I turn around and Nero is standing in the doorway, dark eyes glinting like onyx in the dim light from the city below.

  “Una?” A small voice comes over the line. My knees go weak and I squeeze my eyes shut as I brace my back against the window.

  “Anna,” I whisper, slowly sliding down the glass until I hit the floor. “Are you okay?” I’m aware of Nero moving closer but I keep my gaze fixed on the dark patch of carpet in front of me.

  “I think so. What’s going on?”

  “Just stay calm. Do what they say. I’m coming for you.”

  There’s a rustling sound before I hear Nicholai’s voice again. “She looks so much like you, little dove. But you were always so strong, Una. You are the perfect soldier, to be surpassed o
nly by your child.” The way he says it like a kid getting excited about a new toy makes me feel sick. “But Anna…Anna is not strong like you, little dove. She will not make a soldier…” He lets that hang in the air between us.

  “I promise you, if you touch her, I will tear your heart from your chest,” I snarl, the emotions bubbling and swirling uncontrollably inside me.

  “Tsk-tsk, I raised you better than that. You have been away too long. It has tainted you. I thought I taught you well enough that love is weakness. Your sister, the Italian, your child…they weaken you, Una. You have become fragile,” he spits, anger consuming his voice. There’s a pause before he speaks again. “But it is fine. It is fine. I can fix you. Don’t worry, little dove. I will make you perfect again. And I will make your child stronger than even you.” I squeeze my eyes shut and press my clenched fist to my forehead. “You will come home, and I will set Anna free. You have forty-eight hours, and then I kill her. Tick-tock.” The line goes dead and I launch the phone across the room, leaving a dent in the drywall.

  I press my palms against my eyes to try and keep from crying, but it’s pointless. I’m fucking scared. I’m scared for Anna, I’m scared for my baby and I’m scared for myself because I know exactly what awaits me when I go back there. He will ‘reset’ me. Months of electric shock therapy, training, waterboarding and reflex conditioning. There is only one way to survive that, and that is to check out, to become numb. No one makes it out of there with a shred of humanity left intact. The mind cannot endure it, and that’s why he does it. He doesn’t want humans. He wants soldiers, robots, killers without a conscience.

  Fingers brush over my jaw, and I drop my hands, meeting Nero’s hard gaze. Will I remember him? When Nicholai wipes all traces of emotion from me, will I remember this feeling? Will I even know that I loved him, or will he simply seem like a distant weakness, nothing more than the shadow of a memory? And my child…will I love it? I’m not sure even mother nature can override Nicholai’s methods.

  He swipes at the tears below my eyes. “You are not going,” he says, a growl in his voice.

  “He has Anna.”

  “I know.”

  “What?” I climb to my feet and move away from him, shaking my head. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I didn’t know for sure that he had her.”

  “Fuck!” I drag both hands through my hair. “How did this happen, Nero? You told me she was protected!” I can’t help but feel a small sting of betrayal because I trusted him. I believed foolishly that Nero’s word, his power, was infinite. And I underestimated Nicholai’s reach despite everything I know about him, and that is the bottom line—I should have known. I let my wistful hope cloud my judgement and it has just cost me dearly. I will not let Anna pay the price for my actions. He wants me, not her. She’s nothing more than bait. A helpless soul caught in the middle of Nicholai’s twisted obsession with me.

  “He’ll kill her.” I imagine all the horrible things he’ll do to her, the ways he’ll make her suffer, just because I defied him. “I have to go to him.”

  “No.” His voice is deceptively calm. I turn to face him, but he catches me off guard by wrapping his arms around me from behind. One arm goes across my chest, pinning my wrists flush to my body while the other tightens around my waist. “Don’t struggle,” he whispers roughly in my ear. My heartbeat hammers against my eardrums and my breath hitches.

  I fight his hold, but his arms are like steel. “Nero…”

  “I won’t let you do it, Morte.” His breath touches my neck. His hard body is unrelenting. “You don’t get a say when it comes to the safety of our baby.”

  I take a deep breath and compose myself. “You don’t understand. He’ll kill her and then he’ll just keep coming. He will. Never. Stop.”

  “Una…”

  “You said we were equals.”

  He hesitates, and a low groan slips past his lips. “This is different. Your head isn’t clear when it comes to Anna.”

  “Do you trust me?” I twist my head towards him and his cheek presses to mine. Ragged breaths slip from his lips and I can almost feel his desperation like a living breathing demon in the room. He’s scared. Nero is scared.

  “Morte…”

  “Do you trust me?” I repeat.

  “Yes.”

  “We have to control it.”

  “What?”

  I struggle to get free and he reluctantly releases me, though he looks ready to pounce again at any moment.

  “Nicholai thinks he has the upper hand, and we have to let him think that, lull him into a false sense of security…” His dark eyes lock with mine. I see that urge in him, the need to lock me up and throw away the key. I have to make him see. “I know where he’ll take me. You can come for me.”

  “You’re not fucking going!”

  “I have to!” He takes an ominous step forward, and I shuffle back. “If I go, he’ll think he’s won. I can…I can get close to him, take him out from the inside,” I say in a rush. “It’s the only way.”

  “No,” he growls.

  “Just hear me out. And try to be objective.”

  “I can’t be objective when it comes to you.”

  “And that is why Nicholai will win, because he does not love, he does not feel. He has no weakness.”

  He cups my cheek, forcing me to look at him. “Love is not a weakness, Morte. It is strength.” I wish I could believe him, but with so many people I love on the line, I don’t feel very strong.

  “I am his only weakness,” I say slowly. “I’m the only one who can do this, Nero.”

  His jaw tenses and he sighs heavily before getting to his feet and walking away from me. “No, I have another plan. Get dressed. We’re expecting visitors.” And then he’s heading out of the room, dismissing me completely.

  I sit on the couch in Nero’s office while he makes several calls. I’m staring at a laptop screen, but I can feel his eyes on me. My leg bounces erratically. The walls of the room feel as if they’re pressing in on me. All I can see in my mind is that broken image of Anna before Nero found her and bought her. I see the thin and broken girl being raped on a web cam for the sick entertainment of depraved men. Would Nicholai do that to her? Will she survive that again?

  Eventually I can’t take Nero’s burning stare anymore. I decide to leave and go in search of some coffee. I’m standing at the breakfast bar, trying to calm myself, when the ding of the elevator reaches me. The second I hear the distinctive lilt of Spanish accents, I’m storming through the apartment. I recognize Rafael D’Cruze from all the years that Nicholai would make us learn every influential leader, capo, boss or even dirty politician.

  Four men are with him, and they’re all talking quickly to Nero and Gio. I storm in their direction and, at the last minute, they glance my way.

  “Ah, shit,” Gio mumbles, just as I swing for Rafael, slamming my fist into his jaw.

  One of his men moves, and I yank a gun from the back of my jeans and point it at his head. “I will shoot your worthless, sack of shit ass where you stand.”

  Rafael rubs his jaw and raises his brows, glancing at Nero. “She always like this?” Nero shrugs one shoulder before shifting to stand beside me.

  “They’re here to help,” Nero attempts to assure me. I’m not assured.

  I glare at Rafael, meanwhile the guy in front of my gun shifts slightly. “Loco puta,” he mumbles. I pistol-whip him across the bridge of his nose and he staggers back, clutching his now broken nose. Nero clears his throat to cover a laugh.

  “You lost my sister.”

  Rafael sighs and swipes a hand over his face. “Do not think that I take this lightly. The Russians killed three of my men and shot another.” There’s an edge to him, something dangerous, and usually I’d take note of it, but today, I’d sooner just kill him.

  “I don’t give a fuck about your men! She was supposed to be safe with you.” Nero promised me she was safe and I hate that he did because now I ca
n’t take his word.

  “She was heavily guarded and in one of my houses that only my closest men know about.”

  “Well then, it looks like one of your closest men is a rat, Rafael.” I glare at the men beside him. I never should have left her with other people. I may put her in danger, but I’m careful, Nero is careful. He keeps only his most loyal people close. None of Nero’s men would have sold her out, but outsiders can easily be bought, and Nicholai has a lot to offer as payment.

  “They shot my brother,” one of the guys behind him says as though I give a shit.

  “I. Don’t. Care. If I were you, my only concern would be the fact that my sister is gone.” I glance at the guy who spoke. “Do you know who I am?" He glares back at me. I step around Rafael and stand toe to toe with the man. “If I don’t get her back, I’m going to come to Mexico and end your entire fucking cartel.”

  “O-kay…” Nero wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me back against his chest. “They came to help.” I shrug away from him and pace the length of the room. I feel like I’m hanging by a thread, my emotions swinging like a pendulum and this close to snapping, but I won’t do it in front of these men. Leaving the foyer, I go into the darkened living room and move to the window. My mind is this foggy swarm of emotions and nothing is clear.

  They must have a rat. But what if they don’t? What if Nicholai paid Rafael for Anna and this is all just a set up? Pressing my hand to my stomach, I squeeze my eyes shut. A floorboard creaks behind me. I know it’s Nero without looking. Lips skim over my shoulder and I lean into him. The touch that once left me so conflicted now feels like the only real thing in my life. And, in the midst of complete chaos, he’s the only one I can rely on.

  “We need help, Morte.” His arm snakes up the front of my body before his fingers loosely wrap around my throat.

  I trace the length of his forearm and grip his wrist, twisting my head to the side. “What if they’re working with him? We can’t trust them.”