Hitman's Bride (Bad Boy Empire)

by Vanessa Waltz

  “Stop—please, stop!”

  He lets me go so suddenly that I stumble to the floor. Immediately I wrap my jacket around myself. Rafael’s cruel laughter rings in the small room.

  My fear makes him laugh.

  “What’s the matter, hon? You used to like it rough, remember? You used to beg for this.” He grabs his cock and gives it a squeeze, and I turn away with a look of revulsion.

  “Touch me again, and I’ll scream.”

  His eyes narrow and he digs a finger into the center of my chest. “You know what’ll happen if you make one fucking sound.”

  Make him think you’ve lost. You’ve done it before.

  My eyes lower from his and Rafael lets out a grunt, satisfied with my submission. This sudden surge of self-conscious introspection won’t last, that I’m sure of. He’ll go back to snorting lines and smacking me around.

  Only this time, I’ll be ready.

  Because the first chance I get, I’m killing him.

  The chair drags over the shitty carpet as Rafael pulls it out and sits down, stripping his white tank top from his shoulders. The bandage on his shoulder is soaked through, and he massages it with a tired look on his face. He beckons me with his finger.

  “What?”

  “Change my bandage.”

  I’ll change your fucking bandage.

  I step forward and rip the bandage from his shoulder, smirking as he lets out a sharp hiss.

  “What the fuck is your problem?”

  Are you seriously that stupid?

  The genuine surprise on his face makes me livid. “You’re insane, that’s my problem. This fucking plan of yours isn’t going to work. Tony is not going to let me go anywhere with you.”

  The slick grin on his face twitches as I slap the fresh bandage over his skin. He cocks his head, studying me. Then his hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist. I yank hard and then I twist my arm. He bends my wrist in a painful position and tears spring to my eyes. He pulls my body so that I fall over his lap. I cringe from the warmth of his chest and his hand snaking around my waist.

  “Then you better find a good reason to tell him to back off.”

  I try to get up, my abdominal muscles tensing against his powerful arm, but I fall back onto his lap. “Let me go!”

  “What the fuck is your problem? Why are you giving me such a hard time?”

  I want to scream.

  I dig my elbow in his wounded shoulder and he screams in pain, releasing me immediately. He stands up from the chair, a murderous look snarling his features. My heart stammers and I wonder what the hell I’m doing. Why am I provoking him? I forget all about my plan as rage bursts from my mouth.

  “I don’t want you! I can’t fucking stand you. For months, I was biding my time until I had a chance to leave. I took it and never looked back. You were the one who couldn’t fucking let go!”

  His muscles tense as he screams. “Because you don’t get to fucking decide when we’re over, especially when you are carrying my fucking kid.”

  “It’s not your kid!”

  He grabs my arms, his thumbs digging in hard enough to make me moan. He looks as though he wants to throw me against the wall, and I wait for it. His lips tremble as he bares his teeth like an animal, but he slowly releases me, breathing in deeply.

  “I won’t hit you because you’re pregnant.”

  “You’re a scumbag and you don’t deser—”

  My face whips to the side as a stinging slap burns my cheek.

  I fucking hate him.

  “I have no problem with slapping you around when you give me a smart mouth. That won’t hurt the baby.”

  “I’m glad you’re so confident.”

  This time I catch a blur of his hand as it hits me again, my eyes stinging.

  “Want another one, you stupid bitch?”

  His hand hovers above my face and I watch it, hating the weak part of me that makes me shake my head.

  * * *

  Crowds of people jostle me as I make my way through the mall. My eyes sift through them to find my husband’s face.

  So that I can tell him what I did.

  He’ll be furious with me. I spent the night under Rafael’s watchful gaze as I sat in the chair, refusing to occupy the same space as him.

  But now it’s over. I know exactly where he is, and I’ll point Tony in the direction. I stand there, brain abuzz with what I’m supposed to say to him.

  I watch him check his phone anxiously. He runs a hand over his face, looking stressed, and I feel a pang for the pain I’ve caused him. Then his eyes sweep over me, recognizing me. Relief floods his face and he gets up from the table. It melts away from the heat baking his skin. His jaw sets and he—there’s no other word for it—he looks pissed. My heart squeezes at the sight of him looking so upset.

  Tony’s sculpted arms grab me, and for a moment I think he’s going to throttle my neck, but he pulls me into his body. He holds me so tightly that my lungs wheeze, and his fingers curl into my hair as a sound I’ve never heard from Tony shakes from his chest.

  “I was so fucking worried, Elena. I had half my guys out looking for you.”

  The worry in his voice throttles my heart. It’s torture. I bury my face in his chest without saying a word, inhaling the sharp spice of his deodorant. This is where I belong. It takes every effort inside me not to break down.

  “I’m fine.”

  He pulls away from me, his hands still holding my shoulders as sharp eyes scan my face. Can he see the tracks on my face?

  “You know you’re a shit liar, right?”

  “Tony—”

  “You left me in the middle of the night.”

  “I had to go.”

  Thick eyebrows narrow dangerously. “Lie again, and I’ll bend you over my knee right here.”

  An involuntary shiver runs through my body at the image of that. Tony seems to sense how it makes me feel, and a heart-stopping smile tiptoes across his face.

  “Fuck.”

  His thumb sweeps across my bottom lip right before he crushes his mouth against mine.

  He’s watching you right now.

  But right now I don’t care. I’m in Tony’s arms, and when I look at him I can’t help but feel that everything’s going to be all right.

  “I think you better tell me where the fuck you were.”

  He drags me to the table and we sit down together, his eyes never leaving my face. Fuck, I can’t breathe when he looks at me like that.

  Tony makes an impatient growl at the back of his throat. “You better start talking, or I just might make good on my fucking promise.”

  “Just hear me out. Okay?”

  Tears well up in my eyes, consumed with the vision of me behind bars. I swallow them down, trying to free that knot in my throat. Gentle fingers touch my cheek.

  “It’s him, isn’t it?”

  Tony’s eyes widen as it dawns over him. Fists clenched, he stands up from the seat and stares into the crowds of people. “Where is that piece of shit? I’ll kill him right now.” He looks around the mall. “Is he here, watching us?” His fist slams into the table separating us. “Talk to me, Goddamn it!”

  “He’s here. I lured him here for you.”

  I don’t expect him to be happy, but I expect him to be pleased, at least. His eyes are red-hot as they scorch through my skin. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Tony, you don’t understand. I can’t—we can’t—”

  He yanks me back down on my seat, his snarling face right up against mine. People around us are starting to stare, and a man behind Tony gives me a concerned look. He digs his fingers into my hair.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “I met him at a motel. He said I’d go to jail if I didn’t. I just wanted him to believe he had me under his control, so we could finally get rid of him.” My voice cracks as I finally break in half, folding in on myself.

  Tony’s eyes smolder as his lips tremble, white with rage. “You wen
t to a motel with him. Alone.”

  I know what he’s thinking.

  “I don’t know what the fuck you were thinking—”

  “He says I’m going to jail, Tony. I shot him. I needed to do something.”

  I stand up again, hating how furious he is with me. He grabs my waist again and a flash of anger sears up my throat, which dissolves when he gives me that look.

  “Then why not fucking tell me about it? Why the hell would you go off on your own?”

  “I’ve already done enough to you.”

  It hurts me that he can’t see that I was only trying to save him from whatever hell Rafael has planned for him.

  “I can take care of myself, Elena.” His eyes smolder. “How dare you make this decision without me? We’re married, and that means you involve me in every fucking decision.”

  Tony looks somehow shadowed, even in the bright lights inside the mall. His black, flyaway hair hangs over his face, the stubble on his cheeks overgrown, but his eyes are cold. A chill emanates from them, and I wonder if I’ve crossed some boundary with him—if I’ve gone past the point of no forgiveness. He takes my face in his hands as my breaths quicken to short gasps that hardly give me any air.

  “I don’t know for sure if it’s yours. And if it isn’t, and if I’m in jail, then he gets custody—then he raises my kid.”

  “Elena, that’s a lot of ‘ifs.’ And it’s not going to happen.”

  “You c-can’t be sure.”

  “That baby inside you is mine and when I find him, I’ll make the bastard pay for everything he’s done to us.”

  “But, Tony—”

  “I don’t give a fuck what he told you. You should never have left the apartment. It was stupid to put yourself in so much danger.”

  It stings to hear the truth lash across my face like that, even worse to see the pain fracturing his eyes.

  “Don’t you trust me to keep you safe?”

  Of course I do.

  “I just wanted to take care of him myself.”

  How can I tell him that I’m trying to be a better person? I don’t want to have to rely on anyone. That’s what I did before, with Dad. That’s all.

  “No. Your job is to stay home and keep your legs open for your husband, to take his cock whenever he needs you to. Protecting you is my job.”

  His hand suddenly grabs my ass as he leans in, crushing his lips to mine as his fingers burrow in my hair. My heart pounds as his tongue shoves inside my mouth, tasting me. Heat burns my face as I imagine the people in the mall, staring at the spectacle we’re making. Nothing compares to the horror I feel—Rafael is watching. He’s going to know something is up.

  He ends the kiss, breathing hard as he rests his forehead against mine. “I can’t fucking stand it—can’t take it that he fucking had you in a motel room.”

  Bile rises up my throat. “Tony, nothing happened.”

  His hands shake at his sides as he looks away from me, overcome with emotion. He can’t look at me.

  It’s as though he can’t stand the sight of me.

  My voice is small. “I’m sorry.”

  He explodes. “That fucker is the only one who’s going to be sorry. He fucked my wife!”

  The bottom drops out of my stomach. That’s what he thinks? “I didn’t let him. Tony, I swear!”

  “FUCK!”

  My heart hammers against my chest as he stands up, yanking me with him. I’ve never seen him so upset. The grip on my hand is almost painful as he marches me through the crowd, his chest pulsing like a bull’s. His arms are flushed with blood. “I’m going to inflict as much pain on that bastard as possible.”

  I dig in my heels, stopping him. The face that looks at me isn’t one I recognize. It’s ugly, full of hate and a twisted malice.

  “Nothing happened. I didn’t let him touch me.”

  “It doesn’t matter to them!”

  His nostrils flare as he looks at me with a tortured look.

  Them?

  “My boss—all my fucking colleagues are going to think that I’m some fucking joke.”

  “You know what really happened. Who gives a fuck what anyone thinks?”

  He stares at me for a moment, his face blank. “My reputation matters, sweetheart. If people think I’m a chump, why the fuck should they pay up on time?” His seething heat surrounds me as he grabs my upper arm. “You matter to me. I care what people think of my wife. A man who can’t keep his wife in line isn’t a fucking man.”

  “I’m not your goddamn property.”

  Then he draws me closer, until my fists are against his chest and a warm smile spreads across his face. “Yeah? That’s not what you said last night.”

  I’m amazed at how hot my face gets when he gives me that searing, confident look and the smile that always makes my butterflies out of control.

  Tension balls in my stomach as he leads us outside.

  It feels like a fist inside me, squeezing my organs until stars burst in my vision. Oblivious to my anxiety, Tony pulls my hand and leads me into the crisp outdoors.

  “Where is he?”

  I expect Rafael to jump from around the corner, gun blazing.

  “He’s probably gone by now. He must know I didn’t do what he wanted.”

  Anxiety trembles through my voice. My plan fell apart like a house of cards. I expect to see a shadow of him lurking somewhere, but there’s no sign of him. It makes me uneasy. Tony yanks me across the parking lot and into his car.

  Tony makes a few calls while he drives us away. I keep silent as he talks on the phone, trying to suppress the desire to lower my head from the window. Tony looks on edge, too.

  Then he stops in front of Le Zinc, and a man comes outside to greet us.

  “Go with him inside. I’m going to find parking.”

  He says it in a voice that bids no argument, and I reluctantly open the door to walk the short distance from the curb to the restaurant, the man following behind me.

  It reminds me of when my dad was still alive. Dad sent his guys to chaperone me to places, usually when he was in hot water. The familiarity calms me down somewhat. The restaurant is closed, but all of Johnny’s people are there, standing in the middle of the dining area. At the sight of the Montreal boss, my insides tighten. He’s never liked me. Tommy stands apart from the guys, his arms crossed. I can feel the judgment rolling from his gaze heating my face.

  He still thinks we’re running a scam.

  A wide, toothy smile spreads on Johnny’s handsome face. He beckons me closer and I slide into a chair.

  “You want anything to drink?”

  I still haven’t forgiven him for refusing to help me track down Tony. “No.”

  No, thanks, you mean.

  The rudeness doesn’t slide past Johnny, who frowns at me, saying nothing. I hate sitting here, being surrounded by all these men I don’t trust. They look down at me. Occasionally I catch a glimpse of a sneer and I wonder if they made their own minds about where I was last night.

  Fuck.

  French words and laughter surround me, and I wonder if they’re talking about me. It seems like it from the way they glance away from me when I meet their eyes, and the way they laugh with their backs to me. An unpleasant, sick feeling festers in my stomach and I remember what Tony told me.

  They want a fucking spectacle? I’ll give them that.

  I lift the napkin sitting on the table to my eyes and I screw up my face.

  Cry. Cry, damn it.

  Sobs break from my throat just as the door from the front of the restaurant swings open. The French chatter drops as my voice echoes through the restaurant, and suddenly Johnny’s hand is on my back.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “He took me,” I wail. “He took me from the apartment. I stepped outside f-for some fresh air and he grabbed me. Then he took me t-to his motel—”

  “All right,” Johnny says in a leaden voice.

  “He had a gun to my head. I thought I was going to
die.”

  I lift my head from the tissue as the men glance at each other, looking more sympathetic.

  “He wouldn’t let me leave—”

  “That’s enough,” Johnny says.

  “It’s not nearly enough.”

  Tony’s gravelly voice rumbles behind me, and my sobs subside as he takes both shoulders in his hands.

  “Johnny, I got to talk to you.”

  “All right. Let’s go to my office.”

  He stands up, and to my surprise Tony tugs my shoulders. “C’mon.”

  Making a show of wiping my face, I follow Johnny into the back, passing Tommy’s stony face. We file into Johnny’s office, taking seats behind his desk as he takes his.

  “Johnny, we need to—”

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  My heart jumps at the sudden heat blazing from his voice. His hands grip the edge of the desk, his knuckles white.

  “Tommy told me everything.”

  Fuck.

  “Told you what?”

  I stare at Tony, surprised by the hostility in his tone. He’s the boss! You can’t talk like that to him!

  “I know the wedding and pregnancy were part of a giant scam. I know about the money, and I’ve already taken my cut.” Johnny fumes at me across the table. “That’s thirty thousand dollars you’ll never see again.”

  Behind my simmering fear, I feel a ripple of anger. He has no right to that money.

  “I never took a dime from her, John. It is real, she showed me the tests.”

  “I don’t give a fuck. You disrespected me by lying to my face. I should fucking kill you.”

  Tony clenches the arms of his chair, staring at Johnny. “What are you going to do about Rafael?”

  “Why the fuck is that my problem? As far as I’m concerned, he’s Vincent’s problem.”

  “He tried to kill me. Did you forget about that?”

  Johnny takes a pen from his desk and bends it in his hands, finally hurling it back down.

  “That was before I knew you lied to me and brought all this bullshit on this family.”

  The breath catches in my throat as the last words fall from Johnny’s lips like a battle-axe. Without their support, we really are fucked.