Charming Killer: A Dark Mafia Romance

“We can talk while I finish.” She sounded so casual and nonchalant that I almost believed her bullshit.

I looked over and Erin was watching her second with a narrowed, skeptical stare.

“Where were you last night?” I asked, leaning against the counter. My shoulder throbbed like a fucking bastard and staying upright was a challenge, but I couldn’t afford to take a break, not right now.

“Here,” Chika said. “Ask anyone. What happened?”

“James visited,” I said. “But I think you knew that already.”

Chika put the spatula down and cocked her head. “What did he do?”

“Tried to kill Redmond,” Erin said, stepping forward. “Did you know he was my half-brother?”

Chika looked surprised. “I had no clue. Your father or mother?”

“Mother,” Erin said. “Maeve.”

Chika’s mouth opened, her jaw flexed, and she shut it again. “Interesting,” she said.

It was a good act. I almost believed it. But it seemed too obvious for someone like Chika, someone used to playing Oligarch games. If she really was surprised, she never would’ve shown it.

“When did you know James was in love with Erin?” I asked, keeping my voice as calm as I could make it.

“I knew there was something,” she said, untying her apron. She took it off and draped it over the edge of the sink. “He talked about her often.” She glanced at Erin. “Talked about her as if she was the second coming. He felt like she’d lead us all to glory and power.”

“I didn’t know he was so devoted,” Erin said, her tone icy.

“You didn’t want to see it.” Chika wiped her hands together. “What did he do?”

“He tried to kill me,” I said, stepping toward her. “Killed two of my guards. Hurt Erin in the process. When did you know he wanted me dead?”

“I didn’t.” Chika glanced at Erin and at Palmira. “If James plotted something, I wasn’t a part of it.”

“When did you decide to use him, Chika?” Erin asked.

Chika grabbed the hot pan of eggs and hurled it at Palmira.

Palm ducked to the side but grunted as the pan hit her in the shoulder. Erin gasped in surprise, and I lurched forward, drawing my gun.

Chika whirled and sprinted for the back door. She threw it open as I got my weapon out and fired a shot. Palm moved next, sprinting after Chika. The pair of them disappeared into the backyard.

Erin began barking orders at her men. They looked shocked and confused, but ran out front, angling to cut Chika off before she could escape.

“Shit,” I said softly as I stood on the back step. My shot had missed and buried itself in the frame.

Erin put a hand on my wrist. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Wish I could get out there.”

She chewed her lip. “How’d you know?”

“I wasn’t sure, but I had a feeling. Chika has been around Oligarchs for far too long not to be involved in an assassination attempt, especially when she’d stand to gain. Killing me would remove one piece from the board, and make her path to power that much clearer.”

“You think she wanted to take over Maeve’s empire?”

“I think she was willing to use you to do it until I arrived.” I shook my head and touched her cheek. “I’m sorry. I could offer you some platitude, but I’m willing to be you were waiting for this.”

“I was,” she admitted. “But it still hurts.”

I kissed her gently as Palm came stomping back, teeth clenched together. She gave me one pissed-off look and shook her head sharply.

I didn’t have to ask. Chika got away.

Chapter 26

Erin

I collapsed back against the bed with rivers of sweat rolling down my back and sucked in a deep breath, grinning from ear to ear like a maniac. Redmond chuckled by my side and rolled over, arm across my chest, lips against my neck.

“You’re going to kill me,” he whispered. “And I will die happy.”

“You won’t die at all.” I kissed him and ran my fingers down his chest. I shivered as the aftereffects of the orgasm lingered. I stretched my legs as he played with my hair, breathing in a heavy, slow rhythm.

“The doctor said I should stay in bed, but I don’t think he imagined you’d be there with me.”

“If you want me to go—”

“Don’t you dare.” He kissed my neck and his hands explored my hips, touching every inch of my skin like he couldn’t get enough.

The bed was simple, barely more than a queen-sized mattress with a set of simple cotton sheets. The room was barren, no other furniture, nothing on the walls. Our voices and moans echoed off the hardwood floors, and I wondered what his men downstairs thought of what we were doing.

Not that I cared. For the first time in my life, I felt good, like everything made sense. It was Redmond’s lips and hands and mouth and body that took the fractured, broken landscape, and put it all together.