Kiss Of Death: A Dark Mafia Romance

5

Una

I’m striding down a hotel stairwell, trying to look inconspicuous as I make my way to the underground parking deck. With my blood-stained dress and semi-automatic rifle, the elevator wasn’t exactly an option. My phone rings just as I reach the underground level and I touch my earpiece.

“Not a good time,” I growl.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for the last week. So tell me, when is a good time?”

Nero.

“I’ve been off the grid.”

“No shit.”

There’s something about him that manages to elicit a certain level of irritation, dare I say, anger. It’s a skill; really it is, because I don’t do angry. Anger is a useless emotion and only serves to blind reason.

“Look, is there a reason for this call?” I pant.

“Of course. I have a job for you.”

“Have Arnie contact me.”

He huffs a laugh. “Oh, Una. I think we’re past that.”

Really? This guy. “I don’t,” I say bluntly. The door at the top of the stairs crashes open, the sound echoing around the empty concrete stairwell. “Shit!” I have a good lead but I’d still rather get out clean. Someone fires a couple of rounds and they ping off the metal bannister next to me.

“You sound busy.” I can hear the amusement in his voice.

“No shit,” I growl, shoving through the door. “Text me a location. I’ll be there tomorrow.” I hang up and pick up the pace, sprinting across the parking deck. I jump in the Porsche parked under a broken light and slam my hand over the start button. The engine purrs to life and I ram my foot on the accelerator, making it spit and snarl as the tires shriek against the tarmac.

Leng’s men burst onto the street just as I pull away from the hotel. That was close. Too close.

Pressing speed dial, I listen to the earpiece ring out with a dial tone. “Una.” Olov answers on the first ring.

“I’m twenty minutes away. Be ready to leave immediately,” I tell him, speaking in quick-fire Russian. He hangs up and I speed towards the private airfield on the outskirts of Singapore.