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“He can’t know I’m here,” I plead with him desperately shoving myself up to sit against the pillows, showing a moment of pure vulnerability. Adrian bites his lower lip, and he peers at me with lowered lashes. It is almost seductive if I didn’t see the snake lurking beneath the surface, ready to strike. He lowers his head until his face is only inches from mine. I can feel his breath cascading over my skin, the warmth sending chills over my cooled skin.
“Don’t worry, little mouse,” he whispers. “I won’t let him have you.”
“You’ll protect me?” Now I am the one who is suspicious.
Adrian chuckles darkly.
“Oh, Vanya.” He pushes himself off the bed and straightens his suit before he turns to walk out of the room. He pauses at the door and turns back to where I sit dazed and confused. Is he going to send me to Peter? Ask for a reward? “I’m not going to protect you. I’m going to sell you.”
“Wait—” But it’s too late. He’s shut the door. A low moan of distress leaves my lips when I hear the lock on the door click.
I should never have come here.
He might have saved my life, but now he owns my soul.
And he’s selling it to the highest bidder.
Six
Her scream of frustration seeps through the closed door and I smile in wicked satisfaction, the sound making my cock hard. My little mouse has no idea what is coming for her. A familiar twinge pulls at my chest, but I ignore it. There is no room for pity or regret. Not when I have her right where I need her.
For years, I have been looking for a way to take down the Castellanos family. They thought they could place a Trojan horse in my house and get away with it. I’d slowly been dismantling parts of their operation for years. I didn’t want to draw attention too fast. If they caught on to what was happening before I was ready, the entire plan would fall apart.
Now, a new plan is forming in my head, and Vanya is smack dab in the center.
The plan takes shape as I sit in my office, poring over the photos Anton had taken of the crime scene. Something about the scene is eerily familiar. Most hitmen have a signature. It is either in the form of something left behind that is easily identifiable in the underground or it could be in the way they carry out their hits.
There are no coins in the eyes or mouth. No symbols or insignias. The hitman’s kill tactic is all over the place. The servants on the lower levels were killed with poison or gas. Most likely cyanide. Those who lingered on the grounds or in the house were shot with a 9mm equipped with a silencer. He’d been quick and efficient.
Until it came to the family.
They all had their throats slits. Theo Castellanos, Vanya’s grandfather, had his Achilles' tendons cut. This no doubt stopped him from fighting against the hitman when he used him as bait for Vanya.
Stupid girl.
Caring for another is a weakness.
Why take the heads? I surmise it was so he could show proof of his kills, but I’m wondering if that is indeed his signature. My watch beeps at me, reminding me I have things to do. Sighing, I set the photos down on the desk and head out of the office. It is time to get some work done.
“Boss.” Anton falls in step beside me, handing me myBeretta 80x Cheetah. It came straight off the factory line at the beginning of the year and has essentially replaced my other daily carry. I tuck it into my shoulder holster and then pull on the suit jacket he hands me. We may have the police in our pockets, but it does no good to stir up trouble while we’re out. The locals in Vegas know how it works, but there are always those well-meaning tourists who butt their noses in where they don’t belong.
Unfortunately, it is those tourists that bring in the money I am so well accustomed to. Mostly. I also run a lot of unsavory-type businesses in the Underground.
“What are you planning on doing with the girl?” he asks, holding the car door open for me. I slide in the front seat, waiting for him to close it and come around to the driver’s side before responding.
“She’s going to go for a pretty penny out on the market,” I tell him. “Last remaining heir to the Castellanos’s family fortune. Whoever takes her will have control of their entire empire.”
Anton frowns as he pulls out of the driveway.
“I thought you wanted control of the Castellanos’s empire?”
I pull out my cell phone, texting one of my men to meet me at the warehouse I own on the edge of the city. I’ve spent the last two days watching over Vanya, and now it is time to get back to work. Someone has been taking potshots at my territory and it was time to pay the piper.
“This will be so much more lucrative,” I tell him. “Trust me when I tell you that. The virginal Castellanos daughter will go for millions.”
My second-in-command chuckles.
“You think whoever ordered the hit will bid on her and out himself,” he clarifies. I grit my teeth. If he wasn’t my best friend, I would break his neck and feed him to the desert coyotes for daring to question what I told him.
