Kiss Of Death: A Dark Mafia Romance

Una

The distant sound of gunfire fills the house, but I don’t know who’s winning. The simple fact is, a band of Elite are not easily taken down. The office door flies open, and I swing my gun towards Sasha. He frowns at me, impatience written all over his blood-spattered features. “Come.’

I push to my feet, swinging the rifle over my shoulder. We descend the stairs and I follow him out of the villa. The cobble stone courtyard is surrounded by flowers, and the scent of night jasmine catches on the hot desert breeze.

Rafael’s guards that I ‘shot’ come to stand with us as the main gate is opened, allowing two Hummers to cruise into the courtyard. The windows are completely blacked out, heavy duty guns mounted on their roofs. Sasha is rigid beside me and I can practically feel the tension pouring from him. I know this is hard for him. His loyalties aren’t as black and white as my own.

The passenger side door to one of the hummers opens, and Nero climbs from it. He’s wearing gray suit pants and a black shirt, open at the collar. With his Ray Bans and his perfect face, he looks like he should be in the pages of a magazine rather than here, in a cartel compound, participating in a mafia war. Gio gets out of the driver’s side and Rafael climbs out of the other car, followed by Anna. Her long, blonde hair catches in the wind, and she folds her arms over her body, staying close to Rafael’s side. I lock eyes with my sister, and she offers me a small smile. Apparently, I’m forgiven for cutting off her finger.

“Now that everyone’s here…” Nero opens the back door of the car and drags out Nicholai. His suit is rumpled and dirty as though he’s been rolling around in the dirt. His nose is bloody, and the man who always seemed so strong and invincible is now very far from that reality.

I’m seeing it with my own eyes, but it doesn’t quite seem real. We put this plan into play, but I always thought that he would somehow see it coming, that he would outmaneuver us the way he has done to so many others. But he was blinded by his own desperation, his own demented obsession, and in the end, it was his obsession with Dante that brought him to this point. He broke his own rules, and instead of going after a vulnerable, helpless child from an orphanage he chose the child of two of the most feared people in the world. Stupid.

That icy blue gaze of his meets mine before shifting to my side. “You,” he says to Sasha, voice layered in accusation and disappointment. “I gave you both everything.”

Me, he wanted to trust, but didn’t quite. Sasha…well Sasha was the unfailingly loyal, prodigal son. Until he watched me—the best of the Elite—fall. Until he witnessed my love for Dante. It changed him. So, when Nicholai asked him to gather intelligence on whether my son was indeed in Rafael’s possession, Nicholai never doubted it. It was too perfect.

I take a deep breath and step in front of Sasha, knowing that this weighs more heavily on him than it does me. “You gave us nothing. You took everything.” I feel nothing but cold indifference as I approach him, aware all eyes are on us. Nero’s presence is the strength I need, but he leans against the car, standing back, allowing me this.

I circle Nicholai, kicking him hard enough to send him to his knees. Grabbing his jaw, I force him to look at the four bodies of the fallen Elite I shot, scattered haphazardly over the courtyard. “Do you know why you are here, Nicholai?”

He says nothing, fighting against my hold. I grip the top of his head and threaten to snap his neck. “You are here, on your knees, because you were arrogant. You believed yourself invincible, protected by your army. Protected by your children.” Releasing him, I walk over to Sasha who hands me two knives. They clatter to the cobblestones when I toss them in front of Nicholai. “Pick them up.” I crack my neck from side to side as I pace a few feet towards Nero and back again. “Fucking pick them up!” I shout when he doesn’t respond.

“So you can kill me and call it a fair fight?” he says.

A low rumble of laughter comes from Nero. “Nothing could make that a fair fight. You will die, undoubtedly.”

“You took my child from me and then forced me to fight some of your best only days later.” Anger is threatening to consume me and the urge to just shoot him in the face is strong. I squeeze my eyes shut, remembering the moment he turned his back on me, leaving me strapped to a bed while he walked away with my baby. “So now you will fight your best, Nicholai. You will know what it is to fight for your life.”

His eyes meet mine for the briefest moment and then his jaw clenches. I smile when he grabs the knives and charges me. No finesse, no skill. My feet remain planted until the very last second, when I catch his arm and twist it behind his back. The satisfying crack of bone rings out over his roar of pain. The knife slips from his grasp and I catch it, slamming it deep into his shoulder. His pain echoes in my ears, his screams a symphony of sweet revenge.

He spins, slashing wildly with the remaining knife, his movements nothing more than the desperate efforts of a man who knows his fate is sealed. I easily divulge him of his remaining blade, imbedding it into his other shoulder. And the screams grow, higher and higher, reaching a crescendo the likes of which I’ve never heard with a clean kill. This is not clean. Killing has always been an easy skill for me. I enjoy it because I’m good at it, but it’s just a job. I don’t make my victims suffer. This…this isn’t a job, and I want him to suffer like I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone before.

He sways on his feet, blood pouring from both shoulders as he glares at me. “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.” I grasp the hilts of both blades, yanking them out and slicing them in front of me, lightning fast. His stomach splits open in a cross from ribs to hip. He collapses to the ground, gasping and twitching like a dying fish.

I crouch down next to him. “Goodbye, Nicholai.” My blade finds home in his throat, deep enough to sever the spinal cord. That final tell-tale breath leaves his lungs and I fall back on the ground, staring at his lifeless body. Lifting my face, I look around at all the people watching, all the people he hurt. Families ruined, children broken. This was what he deserved. This was justice. And finally…I’m finally free.