Witness: A Dark Mafia Romance (Romano Brothers Book 2)

by Samantha Cade

  “Masha,” Anton says, and the woman turns towards us. The two have a brief conversation in Russian, then she looks at me, studying me closely.

  Anton slips his arm around my shoulders, presenting me to the woman. “I’d like to introduce you to my new associate, Mia. Mia, this is Masha, my wife.”

  I nearly choke on the air I’m breathing, and cough audibly. His wife? What is this about? Masha extends her hand to me. I shake it, numbly. Her skin is so soft, it almost doesn’t seem real.

  “A pleasure,” she says, politely, then turns to Anton. “Leave us,” she barks. “I’m interested in having a little girl talk with Mia.”

  “Of course, dear,” Anton says. He nods to his wife, then goes off to join his men at the card table.

  I stare at Masha fearfully. She is a very beautiful. Her features are delicate and refined. I can’t imagine why Anton would need other women. Despite her good looks, there’s a fierceness in her eyes. I half expect for her to drag me into the bathroom and rough me up.

  “Have you tried borscht?” Masha asks.

  The question takes me off guard, and I have to ask her to repeat herself. She laughs, a twinkling, wilting laugh, and says something to the bartender in Russian. The bartender walks away, then returns carrying a mug of luscious, bright red liquid with chunks of vegetables floating in it.

  “Borscht,” Masha says, offering the mug to me.

  Masha watches me closely as I take a small sip.

  “Beets?” I say. She nods. “It’s very delicious.”

  “Traditional Russian cuisine,” Masha says. “We all have memories of our mothers making it for us. It’s funny, we have all we want now, all the money we could ever need, yet we all hunger for this simple peasant food.” She pushes the mug back up to my lips. “Drink up. It promotes good health.”

  I have no idea how to continue this conversation, so I keep drinking the soup as an excuse not to speak. The bartender refreshes Masha’s martini. She turns to me, her face serious.

  “Have you been Anton’s associate for long?” She laughs at herself. “Associate. I don’t know why he insists on using that silly word.”

  I clear my throat and lick the borscht from my upper lip. “Not long,” I croak. “It’s my first night, actually.” I cringe at what I’m saying. This is so uniquely uncomfortable.

  Masha blinks at me, then sets her drink on the bar. She leans forward, her brows furrowed with compassionate understanding. “Underneath it all, Anton is a good man. He provides for his wife and children. In return, I let him have his associates. He will treat you well.” Masha grabs my hand, and her eyes flash with passion. “Just don’t ever cross him. Anton can be very cruel, especially to those who betray him. He will kill you, and not quickly. Stay loyal, Mia.”

  She rakes her hand across my cheek. Her skin is soft and comforting. For that brief moment, I know what it feels like to have a mother. When the comfort wears off, I’m left with sickening worry. If something goes wrong tonight, and Anton doesn’t die, he’ll easily figure out that I was behind the attempt on his life. Masha’s eyes are so sincere, and deep brown pools of worry. I can’t imagine what he’s done to others who have betrayed him.

  I tell Masha it was a pleasure meeting her, then scurry away from the bar. It’s very crowded, and all I see are unfamiliar faces. I’m looking for Dani, and hope I don’t run into Anton. My fear is revived, and the feeling that we’ll never get away with this. Maybe Leo will hold off on his plan, wait for a time when there are no children around. I spot Dani by the card table, delivering drinks. Before I can get to her, the man with the shiny bald head steps into my path. When I try to walk around him, he blocks me.

  He bends down, and speaks loudly over the sound of the crowd. “We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Mikhail.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I say politely.

  Mikhail reaches for my hand by my side, and lifts it to his mouth. He holds my hand tight, letting his lips linger against my skin.

  “Do you know, I am Anton’s number one guy?” Mikhail says.

  I pull my hand away. Mikhail reluctantly lets go. He holds his huge arms out from his sides, posturing to me.

  “Whenever Anton needs someone killed, I’m his number one choice for the job. I say, ‘Sure, no problem.’ Even if I have other plans, I always come through. I am that kind of guy.” Mikhail shrugs, humbly.

  I nod, my expression wavering between politeness and terror. I think I’m supposed to be impressed by this.

  “Wow, okay. Well, I was just looking for my frie-“

  “Since I am such a hard worker, I enjoy certain perks.” Mikhail draws a line down my chest with his gaze. I’m so confused by this conversation that I don’t notice him getting close to me until I feel him grab my ass. I jump a little, and my muscles stiffen. “It is my privilege to try out all of his girls. Forget your friend. Join me in the back room.”

  I back away but his grip is too strong. I keep my hands flat on his chest, keeping him as far from me as possible.

  “Anton never told me that,” I say.

  He gives my ass a fresh squeeze. “It’s true.”

  “I don’t want him to get angry.”

  “Are you calling me a liar? Do you think I’m so disloyal, that I’d fuck my boss’ girl without his blessing?” Mikhail raises an eyebrow. “You see. It makes no sense.” He wraps his hand around my arm in a steel like grip. His lips spread into a straight line, erasing his smile. “Now, come.”

  I look around desperately, but no one here will help me. My only hope is for Anton to come up and call off his man, but he’s deep in an intense argument over a card game. Mikhail squeezes my arm even harder, and gestures towards the back of the warehouse. I lift my foot to follow him. When my heel hits the ground, something whizzes sharply near my head. I don’t think it’s a gunshot at first. Then I look up and see the blood running from Mikhail’s temple. His eyes go blank, and his grip loosens, before he collapses heavily to the ground.

  Everyone is still for a few moments, and time seems to stop temporarily. Then, all hell breaks loose, and everyone scatters.

  Chapter Eleven

  ———————-

  Leo

  “Fuck!”

  I slam my fist against the roof, almost punching a hole in it. Pain radiates through my hand, and droplets of blood form on my knuckles. I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe I just fucked the entire mission up. The worst thing you can ever do is deviate from the plan. I was supposed to take out Anton first, before anyone knew something was up. When I saw Mikhail coming on to Mia, and the scared look in her eyes, I lost all control of my trigger finger, and fired.

  I scramble quickly back into position. If I’m going to fix this mess, I’ll have to do it quickly. I look through my scope, trying to find Anton. He’s been surrounded by his goons this entire time, which doesn’t make for an easy shot. I scan the warehouse, looking for his ugly mug. The family members of the mob have disappeared, and are probably hiding in the back. I can’t find Anton anywhere. His goons have probably ushered him to safety. I crash my fist into the roof again, thinking I deserve every bit of pain this causes. I let my emotions get the better of me. But I couldn’t let Mikhail put his hands on Mia.

  Thinking of Mia, I scan the room to locate her. She’s cowering behind the bar with Dani. What kind of fucking coward is Anton? He’d see to his own safety before protecting one of his girls. Anton’s men are looking around, trying to see where the gunfire came from. Some spill out onto the street and yell at the empty buildings.

  It’s clear I won’t get to Anton, not today. I need to get out of here, and get Mia, without revealing my position. But first, I can take out a few more of these Russians. I focus my reticle on one of those ugly goons and fire. He drops to the ground in a heap. The others look so angry, it makes me laugh.

  Then I see one of them holding something by their side, trying to conceal it. It’s a black, handheld device. It’s a gunfire locator. T
he guy points towards my position, and the others raise their weapons my way.

  I curse myself again and roll over on my back. The roof is bombarded by bullets, but the ledge is high enough to keep me safe. This could not have gone any worse. I didn’t expect the Nabatovs to have military grade equipment.

  I’m trapped here. If I try to stand up, I’ll be taken out by a rain of gunfire. I try to focus through the stress, going through my options, when suddenly, the guns go silent. I flip over to my belly, and peak over the ledge.

  A dozen or more Russians are advancing on my position in a pincer formation. They’re trying to flush me out, probably to capture and torture me. I shoot in their direction, taking out another man. They immediately return fire, all shooting at once. I roll back onto my back, and shimmy to the exit. I slide down the fire escape. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I grab the gun strapped to my left ankle.

  I take out the first guy that comes rushing up to me, but there are several more behind him. Two thugs put their guns to my head.

  “Drop the gun, and the bag. Hands up,” one of them shouts.

  I don’t doubt they won’t blow my brains out. I drop my bag and gun to my feet, and lift my hands in the air. A tall, ugly red presses the barrel of his gun hard against my forehead. He mumbles something in Russian. From the crazed look in his eye, I can tell he’s dying to kill me. The other one yells at him, and he reluctantly takes the gun away from my head.

  They drag me aggressively towards the warehouse, yanking my arms so hard they could dislocate my shoulders. I don’t have a plan yet, so I stay cool, confident that something will come to me. It always does.

  They throw me into the warehouse. I quickly scan the room, and find the bar that Mia’s hiding behind. I have to fight the urge to go to her and carry her out of here. The two thugs force me to my knees in the middle of the floor and point their guns at my head. The manic one holds the gun tightly in his palm, then pistol whips me across the face. Blood oozes from my forehead, getting into my eyes and mouth. I spit red saliva onto the floor. A terrified whimper comes from behind the bar.

  I’ll get us out of this, baby. Just be patient.

  Slow, deliberate footsteps walk into the room. I can barely see for the blood flowing into my eyes, but I know it’s Anton. He stands right in front of me, then bends down with his hands on his knees. I’d spit in his face if I didn’t know it would make things worse for me. He studies my face for a moment, then lets out a low, slow laugh.

  “Romano,” Anton spits. “Which one are you? I can’t tell you pretty boys apart.”

  I keep my mouth shut, refusing to speak to him.

  “I know, you’re the stupid one,” Anton says. He exhales deeply into my face. His breath is hot and smells like vodka. “Leo, right?”

  I don’t answer. Anton pats the side of my face with his heavy hand, then stands up straight.

  “Have you searched him?” Anton asks his men.

  The two beside me shake their heads.

  “Do it now,” Anton barks. “Then bring him to my office.” He gives me a long, sneering look before walking to the back.

  I’m forced to my feet and the thugs start patting me down. Whenever they find a knife or a gun, they toss it into a pile several feet from me. They find my decoy weapons, the ones I plant in places that are easy to find, but overlook the .38 tucked deep inside the folds of my vest. They run their hands all over my body. The entire time, I’m watching them closely, looking for an opening. Besides the two men searching me, there are a dozen more armed men around the periphery of the room. I don’t think I can take them all at once.

  But I wasn’t trained to give up. I was trained to examine every possible solution. I scan the room. Movement at the window catches my eye. I look at it out of my periphery so I don’t alert the Russians. There’s someone there, and it doesn’t take me long to realize it’s Mateo.

  I curse him silently. I told him not to get out of the car, and he didn’t listen to me. But since he’s here, I can use him. I raise my hands higher into the air, then cross my fingers, a signal Mateo and I have used since childhood. I wait until the goons are fully absorbed in searching my crotch, then uncross them.

  The window smashes, and a bullet whizzes through the warehouse, striking one of the Russians in the leg. All of the men turn towards the direction of the gunfire and begin to fire, completely forgetting about me.

  I follow my instinct and rush to Mia. She and Dani are huddled behind the bar, their arms wrapped around each other. When they see me, they hug each other tighter, then Mia gushes with relief.

  “Leo,” she mouths silently.

  I grab her up and pull her to my side. Mia grabs Dani’s hand, and pulls her behind us. The Russians are still engaged with the window. Mateo is teasing them brilliantly, firing just enough to keep the attention on him. I’m leading the two girls near the closest exit, when the Russian who pistol whipped me suddenly comes to his senses. He spots me, and yells to the others. Dani darts back behind the bar, leaving Mia and I alone as the Russians circle around us.

  I grab my pistol. But if I point it towards them, they’d take us both out in a heartbeat. My mind races for a way out of this, and it comes to me in an instant. I pull Mia violently in front of me, holding my forearm hard against her neck. I stick the pistol against her temple, and sneer at them.

  The ugly one barks something in Russian, and the others hold their fire. Mia is trembling like a leaf against me. I silently apologize to her.

  “Make one move and I’ll fucking kill her,” I say.

  Mia screams, and she sounds convincingly terrified. But maybe she actually is.

  The ugly one laughs. “Kill her. See if anyone cares. There are many others to take her place.”

  Take her place? I glance down at the beautiful creature in my arms. Nothing could ever take her place.

  “Do you think I’m joking?” I widen my eyes, making me look crazed. “What will your boss say if you let me waste one of his girls? If he walks out of his office and finds her brains splattered all over his card table?”

  The guy grimaces. He knows Anton would have his ass for letting me damage his property. He steps towards me, trying to call my bluff.

  “Then do it,” he says. When I hesitate, he raises the gun to my forehead.

  “Stop.”

  There’s a female voice coming from the back of the room. I recognize the glamorous woman as Anton’s wife, Masha.

  “She is innocent, Yury,” Masha says.

  “But he’s not,” Yury spits. “Let me kill him.”

  “And you may harm her.” Masha walks calmly into the room. “Then her blood will be on your hands.”

  Yury turns back to me. He’s breathing so heavily and angrily that spittle flies out of the corners of his mouth.

  “I’ll do it,” I say, making my voice low and serious. “Back off.”

  “Do as he says,” Masha commands. “You’ll have other opportunities to kill him.”

  Yury scowls as he backs away from me, and spits at my feet. I step backwards, jerking Mia with me.

  “Nobody fucking move,” I say. “Or the broad dies.”

  I keep my eyes on them as I walk carefully to the exit. They are staring me down menacingly. My heart races, expecting for one of them to lose their cool and take the both of us out. I grapple behind me and find the door. I push it open, and pull Mia out into the street. I drop the gun from her head. She stares at me, bewildered, and panting heavily.

  I grab her hand, and we run.

  Chapter Twelve

  ———————-

  Mia

  I feel nothing. It’s a dark, hollow feeling, a powerful force that won’t let me go. Things are chaotic. Leo grasps my arm so tightly my hand is going numb. We are running like mad, which I somehow manage to do in these high heels.

  Still, I feel nothing. It’s like I’m in a dream, observing a scene from the outside. I’m objectively detached from what’s happening around me.r />
  I’ve had this feeling before, just once, but I’ll never forget it. I was at the dining table in my childhood home, a pink cupcake on the plate in front of me, and confetti in my hair. The normalcy of this vanished in a split second when I saw Dad walking down the hallway, his eyes darting around, chasing an invisible creature. When he raised the gun and fired into the couch, I left my body, and watched the rest of it play out while floating at the top of the room.

  We round a corner and encounter Mateo. He barely looks in our direction, and darts across the street. We follow quickly behind. A few blocks away, Leo opens the back door of a black car and pushes me in. I sit numbly by the window. The beads of water running down the glass catches my eye.

  “It’s starting to rain,” I say.

  Leo heaves his huge body into the backseat next me. “What?” he says, leaning into me, his eyes on fire.

  I tap on the window. “See?”

  Mateo appears in the passenger seat. He’s smiling broadly, yelling and pumping his fists. But his voice is hollow in my ears. The headlights flash on, cutting the thick darkness. Mateo punches the gas. My head jerks back, and the tires squeal as we peel away from the curve.

  The rain drumming on the roof slowly coaxes me back to reality. I glance at Leo. This is the man I give my body to, who’s earning my heart. He’s shrouded in shadows. Dried blood cakes his face and neck. He’s just killed- how many people? I lost count. And he doesn’t seem bothered at all.

  He settles his dark stare on me, then wraps his arm around my waist.

  “Mia,” he whispers in my ear.

  He kisses my cheek, hungrily, desperately, and pulls me closer to him. His warm lips are a stark contrast to the barrel of the gun he’d pressed into my head just moments earlier.

  “Where should we go?”