A Vow of Love and Vengeance

Lifting my gun, I took aim at his thigh, but he jumped to the side just as I pulled the trigger. He was faster than I thought possible, as though he’d known I was there the entire time.

A bullet hit the ground an inch in front of my foot, and I froze.

“I don’t want to kill you,” he said, and I stilled at the sound of a familiar Russian accent.

The figure tipped back his head, the black hood falling from his face. Moonlight shone over short blond hair and expressionless features that always made me uncomfortable. His was the mask of a killer with all the remorse of a robot.

“Sasha, what the fuck? You just killed O’Hara?”

Una’s brother lifted a brow as though I were an idiot. “I wouldn’t be very good at my job if he were still alive.”

Jesus Christ. “Who hired you?”

He stared at me with absolutely nothing in his eyes. If Una was cold, then Sasha was pure ice. He gave away nothing; pretty sure he felt nothing. He lived for one thing—to kill. And unfortunately for me, he was very fucking good at it. Not that I was in danger. He only killed for money. If Sasha wanted me dead, I’d be lying right alongside O’Hara.

“I also wouldn’t be very good at my job if I told you that.”

“Fuck.” I dragged a hand down my face, feeling the figurative walls closing in around me. “Sergio Donato just used you to fuck us over. Me, Nero…” Still nothing. “By extension, Una...”

His brows tugged together slightly. “I am neutral. Your business dealings are of no concern of mine, Giovanni.”

“Did he tell you to do it here? To set me up?”

He stared at me blankly. He truly was going to remain loyal to his damn client. To Sergio.

“You couldn’t have at least given me a little warning?”

“I do not report to you, and I care not for Nero Verdi’s petty mafia dealings.” He turned away from me, lifting his hood once more. He paused and glanced over his shoulder. “It is not personal.”

That almost sounded like regret, or as close as the Russian was ever going to get. He rounded the building and was gone, a shadow disappearing back into the blackness from which he was born. I let him because even if I could overpower a trained Elite assassin—and not many could—that psycho fucker was kind of family. And we didn’t turn on family.

The squealing of tires drew my attention, and it was only then I realized the gunfire had stopped. A few seconds later, an SUV screeched to a halt at the end of the alleyway.

The door opened, revealing Jackson leaning over the passenger seat. “Get the fuck in.”

I jogged to the car and slid through the gore on the leather seat. The driver’s side glass was smashed out, and blood and brains painted the inside of the passenger window. When I glanced in the back, I saw the guy with the gold chains sprawled over the seat, a bullet wound in his chest, unseeing eyes wide open. Fuck.

“How many did we lose?”

“Three.”

Three dead, O’Hara dead, any chance of peace in tatters… I let out a breath, fighting the rage that threatened to consume me.

Jackson pulled past The Outfit warehouse, flames now licking along its windows as smoke billowed into the night air. It was the only solace to tonight, but even that was a hollow victory given that Sergio may well have known what we’d do. Did he sacrifice his warehouse just to fuck me over? A perfect trap.

My anger boiled over, and my fist smashed the dashboard. “Fuck!” I drew in a deep breath, trying to regain the control I was so obviously losing. “It was Sasha,” I said quietly, watching the dark scenery pass by the blood-slicked window.

Jackson’s stare burned into the side of my face. “Are you fucking serious?”

“He knew we’d be there.” I looked at my enforcer, the glow of the dashboard playing over his tight features. “Did Andreas hint at another rat?”

“No, but…” He shook his head and snapped his jaw shut.

“But what?”

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “We do have two Outfit members in our house, Gio—”

“No.” There was no way Emilia had anything to do with this.

“You’ve known her for what? A month?”

“You really think she’s working with them after she ran from me, from her family, and the prospect of a mafia marriage?”

“I admit it’s convenient, and with her brother no less. Renzo Donato. One of their best young enforcers, now behind enemy lines.” He turned onto the interstate, sticking to the speed limit to avoid drawing attention to our bloodied car. “Tell me, if she hadn’t tried to run, hadn’t seemed like the damsel in distress, would you have trusted her?”

I didn’t answer him because I didn’t know.