by LP Lovell
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. His lips brush the inside of my wrist and my skin tingles in response. 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.
“I missed you, Morte.”
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 turns around and removes the bottle from the machine. He splashes a bit of milk on his wrist and then hands it 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?”
“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.” Something dark and volatile crosses Nero’s eyes. “Stay here. Turn your back on this 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 say the words, but the assured arrogance I once spoke them with is gone. Any pride I once harbored in who I was is long gone.
“No! 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 put the nearly empty bottle down on the counter. Standing up, I round the bar and hand Nero 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.”
“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 have risked everything to take Nicholai down, and I will succeed, or die trying. This will be the legacy that I leave my son.
They allow me straight through the compound gates and when I pull into the vehicle bay, Nicholai is there, waiting. His hands are clasped behind his back, his suit as immaculate as ever.
“Little dove. I see you are disappointingly empty handed,” he says as I approach.
I force myself back into that cold unfeeling place as far away from Nero and Dante 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 have use of him.”
He tilts his head, and it reminds me of a predator assessing prey. “He is in love with you.”
“Yes.”
“And he believes you in love with him?”
“Yes.”
“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.” Have I always sounded so robotic and cold?
“Good. This is good.” There’s an edge to his voice, and I know he doesn’t trust me. If I were any other soldier he would have put a bullet in my head the second I came back. Nicholai would have written anyone else off as defective. I’m only standing here because of his favor.
“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 lifts a brow to drive the point home.
On a nod, 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, favored 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 rips out his heart.
I’m so close I can almost smell his blood tinging the air. The game is so nearly over.
32
Una
Humid heat clings to my skin, wrapping around me as Sasha and I make our way to the car. He gets in the driver’s side and I hop in beside him. Three Elite climb in the back with rifles in hand. The sun is just starting to drop below the ragged horizon 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. 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 Nicholai would bring, but I’ll roll with the punches. Nicholai gets out of the car behind ours, his suit no less appropriate for the dusty desert of Mexico than it is 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.” Cold 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 villa. 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 to the first floor. Reaching in my front pocket, I quickly screw a silencer onto my gun. My senses attune to the two men walking behind me; 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 sigh at the blood seeping through my tank top and 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. Resting my rifle on the windowsill, I 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 and glance at the clock on the dashboard. Gio fiddles with the buttons for the air conditioning, tugging at the collar of his shirt. 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, a cloud of dust kicks up from the valley below us. I pick up the binoculars and watch the convoy of black Range Rovers wind along the empty desert road, their tinted windows hiding their occupants. They pull over to the shoulder and all the doors open, soldiers clad in black climbing out and arming themselves. Sasha and Una stand at the head of what must be twenty Elite.
“Fuck, that’s a lot of Elite,” I murmur, a wave of unease creeping through me. It’s too many.
“How many?” Gio asks.
“Maybe twenty.”
“I’ll go tell Rafael.” The door opens and hot, dusty air fills the cabin.
I adjust the binoculars and smile when the back door of the second Range Rover opens and Nicholai Ivanov himself steps out. 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.
“This seems too easy.”
I toss the binoculars in the glove compartment. “I’m not sure whether it’s a trap, or he really is that sure of his force.”
“It seems to go against his nature, but then he did come deep into Rafael’s territory once before to get Anna.”
This is too good of an opportunity. Sasha would have warned us if they’d brought more force. Una might be kept in the dark, but not Sasha.
“Lets go.” I glance in the rear-view mirror, meeting Rafael’s hard gaze as he sits behind the wheel of the car behind. Anna is 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.
I give it to Rafael, he has all the best kit. Armor plated Hummers with mounted .50 Cal gun’s on the roof. One of his men is hanging out the sunroof, ready to open fire on the Russian and his beloved soldiers. He has instructions not to kill Nicholai though. Una deserves that honor.
As soon as we’re on flat ground, we’re flooring it towards the parked Range Rovers. The two soldiers move in front of Nicholai, firing bullets at the car. Shots ping off the hood and I slam my foot over the accelerator. When they realize that their bullets aren’t doing shit, they run for the car, ushering Nicholai inside.
Gio reaches back and taps the knee of the guy with the big ass gun. He opens fire, the bullets leaving golf-ball-sized holes in the body work of one of the parked Ranger Rovers.
“Damn, I need one of these cars.”
“Might be a bit conspicuous in New York,” Gio shouts over the deafening bang, bang, bang of gunfire. The Range Rover screeches away, heading into the desert, and I follow. Rafael pulls up beside me. Bullets spray the back of the Range Rover, shattering the glass and tearing holes through the body work until one tire explodes. The car veers violently to the side, fishtailing before skidding sideways and tipping. It rolls over several times before coming to a stop on its wheels again. Palming my .40 Cal, I throw the door open. Gio and Rafael fall in beside me. I shoot the injured Elite slumped against the steering wheel. The other one already looks dead. Rafael goes to the back door, bracing his hand over the handle as he watches me. With a nod from me, he wrenches the door open and Nicholai falls out of the car. I’m sure he’s dead, before he groans and attempts to crawl across the floor.
If it were up to me, I’d tie him to the tow bar and drag him back to that villa for Una to end, but he might die on the way and she needs to be the one to ki
ll him. He has taken more from her than anyone. I kick him in the gut hard enough that he lands on his back, gasping for air. His suit is covered in dust and blood trickles from his nose, pouring down his chin.
“Nicholai Ivanov.” I smile and yank him from the dusty ground. He sways and Gio grabs his arm, holding him up. “How the mighty have fallen.”
“Nero Verdi,” he says and then laughs. “And Refael D’Cruze. You both reach too far. You will die before you reach the border.”
Rafael laughs, toting a rifle over his shoulder casually.
“Who’s going to stop us?” I raise a brow and cup my ear, tilting my head. “I don’t hear anything. Oh, wait. That’s because no one is coming. You are all out of allies, Nicholai.”
His teeth clench. “I need no allies. I have an army. My Elite will end you, and your child will be mine.”
My fingers flinch, wanting to grab my gun. Instead I punch him in the gut hard enough that a breath wheezes past his lips. Gio holds him up and I cup the back of his neck, bringing my lips to his ear. “Your Elite are dying as we speak. Killed by your own…your best. After all, you did make Una quite formidable.” I step back and his cold eyes flash with rage.
“I made her strong. I made her the best…”
“You fucking broke her!” I shout, my temper spiking before I manage to fight it back. “But you’re right, Nicholai. You made her strong.” I search that soulless gaze and notice the drop of seat that rolls down his temple. “Strong enough to put an end to you.”
A sick grin spreads across his lips. “Una is mine. She will always be what I made her.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Una is mine. And you’re about to see what happens when you try and take what’s fucking mine.” I nod at Gio and he drags him towards the car before I break my word and kill him right here. Gio shoves him inside next to our gunman who is now sitting on the back seat, pointing a pistol at him.