Kiss Of Death: A Dark Mafia Romance

Nero

“Nero?” I wake at the sound of Una’s voice. She’s fully dressed in her black combat pants and long-sleeved shirt. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, and a troubled expression mars her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I held up my end of our deal. I want my sister,” she says coldly.

I stare at her for a second, trying to see through her defensive bullshit. “And you’ll have her. She’s in Juarez with one of my contacts.”

Her eyes widen. “You’ve had her this entire time?”

“Since last week. It will take a few days to get her out of Mexico.” I push up off the mattress, fighting the urge to just fucking lie back down as the pain tears through the left-hand side of my body. She stands and takes a step back, crossing her arms over her chest. Keeping my left arm clutched to my body, I climb to my feet and head towards the bathroom, ignoring Una. Every step feels like someone is punching me in the shoulder and Una really isn’t my favorite person right now.

“I’ll be back in a few days,” she says casually. I freeze halfway across the room and slowly pivot. She clocks the look on my face as I approach and raises her chin, setting her jaw defiantly.

“Back from where?”

“Miami. Nicholai called me in for a job.”

Fucking Nicholai. “So, the master has clicked his fingers and off you run?”

Her fists clench before she takes a deep breath. Her loyalty to him is unflinching because she knows no better. Nicholai is all she knows. “I’m a hired killer, so yes, when someone needs killing, I go.”

We stare at each other for a long moment, because I want to stop her and she knows it, but I won’t, and we both know that too. “Then go.”

“Be careful,” she whispers, jerking her chin towards my shoulder.

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

A wry smile pulls at her lips. “I’m the kiss of death.”

Unable to keep distance between us, I step forward and wrap my free hand around the back of her neck, yanking her close. “No, Morte, you’re mine.” My lips brush her cheek. “Remember that.” I nip her jaw then step back. Words that neither of us are prepared to speak swirl between us, thickening the air with tension. I turn away and go into the bathroom.

Closing the door, I brace my back against it and wait for her to leave. The second I hear her retreating footsteps fade, I pick up the nearest thing, a bottle of hand wash, and launch it at the mirror. The glass smashes, splintering and throwing my own broken reflection back at me. Pain flashes through my shoulder. She’s both literally and metaphorically burned me from the inside out, because I want her to the point of irrationality. A possessive rage clings to the edges of my mind.

I know how Una gets to her clients and the imagine of her kissing another guy, allowing him to touch her, wanting him to bury his face in her neck so that she can render him weak and thrust a knife in his back… I see it all so clearly and it’s driving me fucking insane. Una is mine, and she can’t outrun that.

Una’s been gone for a total of six hours, and as much as I try to work, try not to think about her, I can’t. The idea of her on a job plagues me, aggravating me. I know when she seduces a client it’s not real, but they don’t, they think they have a right to her for a few minutes, and even though she kills them for their troubles, it’s not enough.

My phone rings, tearing me from my thoughts. The screen flashes showing a south American number. I pick it up.

“Yeah.”

“Nero, I have some information that might interest you.” Rafael. His Spanish accent is slight but distinctive.

“And what is this information going to cost me?”

“Consider it a favor to a friend.” We’re definitely not friends. Business acquaintances but not friends. “I hear that you are acquainted with the mad Russians favorite pet.” The irony that he’s keeping said pets own sister and he doesn’t even know it…

“What about her?”

He pauses and draws a long breath. “I have heard she’s very pretty, much like her sister. It would be a shame for her to meet her end.” How the fuck does he know that Anna is Una’s sister? No one knows that she even has a sister apart from me, her and Anna, but of course he has Anna. There’s no telling what information the bastard would try and pry from her. I say nothing because in this situation words are dangerous. He huffs another laugh. “Five million dollars is a lot of money.”

“Five million dollars for what?” I snap.

“The price on her pretty little head of course. I hear the Los Zetas sent their best sicario for her. He’s in Miami now. I wonder if the angel of death is as good as they say.”

“This favor of yours, is there a price tag on it?”

“Just remember it.” In other words, he’ll call it in at some point. “Tick tock, Nero. Run capo, run capo, run, run, run.” He sings before laughing and hanging up.