Sweet Collateral

by LP Lovell

  I flick my cigar over the edge of the balcony and move closer to the bed, stripping my pants and shirt as I go. As soon as I slide beneath the sheets, she’s rolling toward me like gravity, even in sleep. I wrap an arm around her, pulling her to my chest and inhaling her scent.

  “Rafael?” she whispers.

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I trail my fingers over her side.

  “You’re a bad liar.” She kisses my chest. Fuck, she’s so sweet, so pure and innocent. I can’t allow her to be dragged into this shit. She’s suffered enough.

  “Let’s not talk about it.” I roll on top of her, and she blinks up at me with eyes so utterly trusting. I brush my lips over hers, and a small sigh escapes her.

  “Did you talk to Nero?”

  “Uh huh.” I kiss her harder until all she can think of, all she can feel, is me. Her fingers rake through my hair, her body bowing beneath me. She’s so supple, so pliant under my hold. But only for me. She’s mine, and she’ll never belong to anyone else.

  She slides her hand over my mouth, a smirk dancing over lips as she pushes me back an inch. “What did he say?”

  I groan and roll onto my back. “He’s flying down here tomorrow. Nicholai will probably attack in the next few days.”

  She sits up, sweeping her hair away from her face. “Here? In days?”

  “I’m sending you away.”

  “What?”

  “I’m sending you to the mansion with guards.”

  In an instant, she’s straddling me. Her fingers grip my jaw, and I can see the panic in her eyes. She’s scared. “I don’t want to go to the mansion.”

  “Avecita, I can’t have you near Nicholai. If this goes wrong…”

  “What? What happens if this goes wrong, Rafael?”

  I inhale a deep breath. “We all die.”

  She closes her eyes, golden hair falling over her face. I stroke it back behind her ear, trailing my fingers over the soft skin of her cheek as I do. “You’ll never be safe as long as he lives. Your sister, her son—”

  “I don’t care about them.”

  “You don’t mean that. Even if you can’t bring yourself to feel for Una right now, you wouldn’t want anything to happen to her child. And I can’t let anything happen to the cartel.”

  She grasps my face in both hands. “Let’s just run. You and me. We can leave this.”

  “The cartel is my family. I’m their leader. I won’t leave them like this. I brought this danger down on them. They never should have been involved in any kind of fight with the Russians.”

  “But you are—because of me.”

  “No. We’re here because of decisions I made.” I grip her chin and pull her gaze to mine. “Decisions I do not regret for a second.”

  “You should have left me there,” she whispers.

  “If I could think rationally when it comes to you, maybe I would have. If there were even a choice, maybe I would have made a different one. But I can’t be rational when it comes to you. There’s never a choice.”

  Her nails scratch over my jaw. “I can’t leave you. So don’t ask me to.”

  “I won’t put you in danger.”

  “We’re always in danger. It’s the life we live, but I’d rather die with you than live without you.”

  “Anna…”

  She cuts me off with a kiss, the kind of kiss that leaves a mark on my damn soul “You’re the only thing that has ever made this life feel like something worth living, Rafe.”

  Fuck, she rips me apart, and she doesn’t even know it. I don’t want her away from me even though I know it’s selfish. She doesn’t want to go. I should force her, consequences be damned, but truthfully, if the situation were reversed, I wouldn’t leave her.

  “Ride or die then?”

  A small smile pulls at her lips. “Always.” She kisses me again. Her lips are soft and sweet, her teeth grazing my bottom lip. She’s so curious, so trusting, and yet completely unaware of how sexy she is.

  I flip her onto her back and settle between her thighs. “It’s been a while since I had a taste of you, little warrior.” Her cheeks stain pink under the silvery moonlight, and I smirk. So innocent.

  I drag her underwear down her legs, and she squirms against the mattress. “Rafe. You don’t—” Her breathy moan cuts off her words, and I groan at the taste of her. Fuck. I’ll never get enough of her—never need anyone else. She’s like crack, and I’m permanently craving my high.

  This right here is everything worth fighting for. Ride or die.

  51

  Rafael

  The next morning, I take Anna with me to the warehouse to finalize some extra weapons and men. As soon as we step back into the house that afternoon, Samuel is waiting, his expression stern. “Nero Verdi is here.” No sooner have the words left his mouth than Nero appears in the hallway, shadowed by two others. His eyes land on Anna and she stiffens, shifting closer to my side. She’s not scared of me and yet Verdi scares her. He does have an air of a ruthless bastard, and he is undoubtedly dangerous. When he looks at you it’s like he’s calculating all the ways he could end you.

  “Anna,” he says, and she clutches my arm. “You look just like her.”

  “So I’m told.”

  His lips twitch, cracking the lethal veneer. “I’m glad to see you’re okay. Una is…protective of you.”

  She snorts. “Right.” Her distaste for her sister is written all over her face. She turns to walk away, but I grab her arm, turning her to face me. I grip her chin, her face so delicate against my thick fingers. Then I press my lips to hers and she falls into the kiss, soft and sweet, knotting her fingers in the front of my shirt. When she pulls away, her face is beet red before she hurries away. This time I let her go.

  Nero stares at Anna’s retreating back. His brows knitted together.

  “Anna isn’t feeling particularly favorable toward Una right now.” His frown turns to a scowl. “Una cut her finger off.”

  “To save her life. It’s only a finger.”

  “Anna doesn’t see it that way. She was rather attached to it.”

  “Una has sacrificed everything—”

  “And Anna has suffered plenty, but we aren’t here to discuss our women, Nero. Nicholai is our priority. I have extra men. And I’ll know as soon as he lands. What’s the plan?”

  I drum my fingers over the steering wheel, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. Anna sits beside me, every single muscle in her body tense. I’m torn between hating that she’s here, so close to unquestionable danger, and not wanting her to be anywhere but right by my side. I’m not sure if that makes me selfish. It’s not like I didn’t try to send her away.

  The hot desert sun glares off the hood of the car, and I glance at the hummer parked in front of us at the edge of the rock face that overlooks the sprawling desert below. Nero is running point on this. He knows Una, and he seems to trust her. I guess her being the mother of his child probably blinds him to the dangers of placing faith in such a woman. I pick up my binoculars when I see a cloud of dust kicking up in the wake of a convoy of black Range Rovers. The windows are blacked out, and I can’t make out the occupants, but who else is it going to be other than Nicholai? They pull over to the shoulder and all the doors open—several soldiers climb out and arm themselves. I spot Una standing at the head of what must be twenty Elite, her white-blonde hair and petite frame distinctive among the others.

  “How many?” Samuel asks from the back seat.

  “Twenty.”

  A few seconds later and he’s on the phone to the men in the villa, updating them, preparing them.

  I smile when the back door of the second Range Rover opens, and Nicholai Ivanov steps out in his suit, his pale skin practically reflecting the sun. I honestly didn’t think he’d come. He’s completely exposed, ripe for the picking. Even with his Elite…this is cartel country. He’s arrogant and obsessive. It’s his obsession with Una that will lea
d to his demise.

  “Nicholai is here.”

  “Good. So we can kill the fucker, right?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  The band of Elite disperses, heading up the hillside toward my villa and leaving Nicholai alone with only two Elite to protect him. Stupid. So very stupid.

  I lower the binoculars. We just give them a minute to get to the villa and leave their lord and master exposed. Adrenaline spikes through my veins like a damn drug.

  This is it, make or break. I start the engine and Samuel climbs through the roof to operate the 50. cal on the roof. These cars were literally built for a cartel war.

  I take Anna’s hand and kiss her knuckles.

  “Ride or die?”

  She nods and the smile she flashes me is so innocent, so full of love.

  I pull away, sending the Hummer down the steep hillside after Nero, kicking up dust and rubble in our wake. Carlos pops out of the sunroof of Nero’s car, readying the gun.

  Nero wants Nicholai alive, but well, I can’t make any promises on that front. I want that fucker dead and buried, one way or the other.

  As soon as the ground levels out, we’re flooring it toward the parked Range Rovers. The two remaining soldiers move in front of Nicholai, firing bullets. Shots ping off the hood, and we speed up. When they realize that their bullets aren’t doing shit against armor plating, they run for the car, ushering Nicholai inside.

  The 50. cal’s do their job, leaving golfball-sized holes in the bodywork of the Ranger Rovers. Nicholai’s car screeches away, heading into the desert. Bullets spray the back of the SUV, shattering the glass and tearing holes through the bodywork until one tire explodes. The car veers violently to the side, fishtailing before rolling several times. I slam my foot on the brake, kicking up a cloud of dust that drifts in front of the wrecked vehicle.

  “Stay here,” I say to Anna. “Sam, cover us.” Opening the door, I slide out and walk over to where Nero and Gio are already standing. There’s an Elite slumped against the steering wheel clutching his head. The other one looks dead. Nero lifts his gun and kills the survivor. I move to the back door, my hand hovering over the door handle as Nero points his gun at the door before nodding. I wrench the door open, and Nicholai falls out of the car. He looks dead for a moment, but then he groans and attempts to crawl across the floor. It’s almost amusing, as though he thinks he can go anywhere. I’d say it’s about now he realizes how much he’s fucked up.

  Nero strides over and kicks the man in the gut, hard enough that he lands on his back, gasping for air. The Russian’s suit is covered in dust, and blood trickles from his nose, pouring down his chin.

  “Nicholai Ivanov,” Nero drags him to his feet. “How the mighty have fallen.”

  “Nero Verdi,” Nicholai says and then laughs. “You reach too far. You will not make it out of the country alive.”

  “Who’s going to stop me?” Nero cups his ear. “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.”

  “Your Elite are dying as we speak. Killed by your own…your best. You did make Una quite formidable.”

  “I made her strong. I made her the best…”

  “You fucking broke her!” Nero shouts, his cool slipping just a little. I can relate. I can’t remain calm or rational where Anna is involved. We all have our weaknesses. “But you’re right, Nicholai. You made her strong. Strong enough to put an end to you.”

  “Una is mine. She will always be what I made her.” A sick grin spreads across Nicholai’s lips. Anyone would think he wants to die. Nero is not a man to provoke.

  “You’re about to see what happens when you try and take what’s fucking mine.” He nods at Gio who drags Nicholai toward the car. He’s shoved in the back seat.

  Nero clenches and releases his fists. I bet he’s wishing he hadn’t promised Una the kill right now. He looks like he wants to tear Nicholai limb from limb with his bare hands. The man did take not only his woman but also his child. I’d say his wrath is well earned.

  “I can’t wait to see this,” I say. I’ve always wondered what Una would be like fully unleashed.

  I guess I’m about to find out.

  52

  Anna

  We drive over the mangled remains of the metal gate, dodging the bodies littering the driveway, both Russians and Rafael’s men. The gatehouse is on fire, and parts of the courtyard are destroyed and smoking. For the first time, I realize the full gravity of the situation—the scale of destruction. We come to a stop, and I get out of the car, stepping over the body of a fallen Elite. I’m strangely detached about all the death, noting that they all look like little matching broken dolls in their black uniform. I move around the front of the Hummer and stop beside Rafael. He grabs my waist and hoists me up onto the hood as though he’s trying to keep me above all the death and chaos. His body settles between my knees, and I absentmindedly trace circles on the back of his neck as we wait.

  Movement catches my attention, and I glance up to see Una step through the front door of the villa, a blonde guy at her side. Another Elite. Several of Rafael’s men file out after her, most bloodstained and looking weary. Una’s cool gaze skims the scene in front of her, stopping on me. Blood splatter covers her neck and cheek, tinting the end of her white ponytail red, her appearance finished by an array of guns and knives strapped to her body. She’s every inch the killer, a machine, a weapon. I’m not sure if I’m in awe or terrified of her. The guy beside her looks even more lethal than she does. His eyes constantly shift, scanning, assessing, as though he’s expecting an attack any minute and more than ready to counter it.

  “That’s Sasha,” Rafael whispers over his shoulder to me. “The one who smuggled the child out of Nicholai’s compound.” That’s when the recognition hits me. He’s the one who held me down for her to take my finger.

  I study him further, the way he angles his body slightly to Una’s as though willing to take a bullet for her. He loves her or at least has strong loyalty to her.

  “Now that everyone’s here…” Nero opens the back door of the car and drags Nicholai out. His suit is rumpled and dirty from the desert floor, and blood still streams down his chin, spreading across his shirt. He seems so small compared to the insane man I met in Russia.

  Nicholai glares at Una and then the man beside her. “You,” he says to Sasha, his voice layered in accusation and disappointment. “I gave you both everything.”

  Una shifts in front of Sasha, like a sibling protecting him from the wrath of an angry father. “You gave us nothing. You took everything.” She holds a hand out to Sasha and he places two knives in her waiting palm. “You believed yourself invincible, protected by your army. Protected by your children. Look at you now.” I do not expect her to throw the knives to the ground. They clatter to a stop just in front of Nicholai. “Pick them up.” She cracks her neck from side to side as she paces a few feet toward Nero and back again. “Fucking pick them up!” she shouts when he doesn’t respond.

  “So you can kill me and call it a fair fight?” he says. Una snorts, and there’s a low rumble of laughter from Nero. He’s watching her every move, propped against the side of the car, arms folded over his chest. He’s not trying to protect her or shelter her. He’s allowing her to just be, to do what she was made to do… to have revenge on those who have wronged her. She’s not a pretty doll to him. She’s a warrior through and through.

  “Nothing could make that a fair fight,” Nero tells him, amusement and pride in his tone. “You will die, undoubtedly.”

  “You took my child from me and then forced me to fight some of your best only days later.” Una is practically pulsating with rage now, but I hear the pain in her voice. I can’t imagine what that must be like, to have your child taken from you like that. “So now you will fight your best, Nicholai. You will know what it is
to fight for your life.”

  The older man looks at her for a second, a million unspoken words passing between them. And then he grabs the knives, pushing to feet before he charges her. My heart skips a beat, but Una merely smiles, standing completely still as he rushes her. At the last second, she moves, catching his arm as he fires straight past. She twists his arm behind his back with a sickening crunch of breaking bone. The knife slips from his grasp, and she catches it, slamming it deep into his shoulder. He cries out in pain, and a feral smile graces her lips.

  “Damn,” Rafael breathes, twisting to face me. “Maybe you shouldn’t watch this.”

  “I’m not some delicate princess, Rafael.”

  With a sigh, he turns back to the fight.

  Nicholai is spinning, slashing wildly with the remaining knife, his movements nothing more than the desperate last-ditch efforts of a man who knows his fate is sealed. Without an ounce of mercy or effort, Una takes his remaining knife, slamming it into his other shoulder. She wants his suffering, his pain. I can relate because it’s the same thing I’d love to do to any man who has ever touched me. Including him.

  Nicholai sways on his feet, blood pouring from both shoulders as he glares at her. “The Bratva will hunt you, little dove,” he says through a grimace.

  “I don’t think they will. After all, with you dead, their guns and drugs will once again run freely.” She grasps the hilts of both blades, yanking them out and crossing them in front of her so fast I can barely track the movement. His stomach splits open in a cross from ribs to hip, both sides. His eyes go wide, and he coughs up blood, staggering for a moment before he collapses to the ground. There’s so much blood, and I swear I can see intestines. My stomach rolls, bile creeping up my throat. I can’t look as she deals the final deathblow. I know it’s over because I can feel the change in the air, the tension lifting under relief.