CHAPTER TEN
Raina
A few days later, there’s a knock at my door. Fingering the Walther on my belt, a gun I wear all the time now, I glare into the peephole. Relaxing, I open the door for Ruby.
“Have any coffee? Michael is sleeping on the sofa again, and I don’t want to wake him up fussing around the kitchen.” She’s been calling her father by his first name for a while now.
I think it’s a defense mechanism to distance herself from the emotion ingrained in us to love our parents no matter what.
“Sure. I just made a pot.” I step aside and let her in.
Wearing a satin baby doll top with matching shorts and Ugg slippers, Ruby glances around the apartment that’s gone unkempt because I haven’t left it. I’ve been binging ice cream, Chinese food, red wine, and Netflix to avoid thinking about what Valdrin and Noel hit me with.
The truth.
Their version, anyway.
“You okay?” Ruby asks, sounding worried.
It’s usually the other way around.
Clearing my throat, I say, “Actually, no.”
And I don’t mean my arm. The busted stitches were swapped out with surgical glue at the walk-in center, and my knife wound is healing much better.
“What happened?” Ruby takes a seat at my narrow kitchen table.
I pour her a cup of black coffee. Her father doesn’t keep fresh milk in the fridge or buy sugar, so she’s used to the bitter stinging taste. I haven’t told her I was fired. I’m not sure how long I can afford this apartment, and mentioning that I will probably have to move will stress Ruby out.
I sit down next to her and fiddle with Valdrin’s card. “I found out who my father was, sort of.”
“Shut up.” Her eyes go wide. “Who is he? You said your mom didn’t name him in her letter.”
“It’s a complicated story,” I utter the understatement of the century. “He’s dead.”
“Really?” She sounds jealous.
Without knowing anything about Levin Berisha, I would bring him back to life in a heartbeat if I could trade his soul for that scumbag Ruby has to live with.
I open my mouth to tell her more, but an impatient knock makes me jump. “Hang on, Ru.”
I amble to the door and glance out that peephole again.
Valdrin.
Damn it.
I eye half-dressed Ruby, but the voice outside steals my focus.
“I know you’re in there,” Valdrin says.
Ruby stands up, visibly affected by the deep male tenor. “Who’s that?”
“Someone who knew my father.” I clear my throat, hating that I can’t tell her more. “I need to let him in. Why don’t you go put on my robe?”
“Sure.” She slogs toward my bedroom.
When I see her disappear around the corner, I open the door. “Good morning.”
“Good? That depends.” Valdrin steps inside without waiting for an invitation. His cologne mixes with the faint smell of my morning coffee lingering in the kitchen.
I feel grimy, wearing three-day-old sweats, while he looks sharp standing there in a finely cut charcoal suit. He’s a lot older than me, late forties, I suspect. But quite handsome, in a cool uncle kind of way.
I don’t feel anything for Valdrin.
I can’t get that guy from the dive bar out of my head. The six-foot-something, muscular Adonis who wore tight jeans and a waffle Henley with his dirty talk and rough sex is more my style.
I wonder what happened to that guy.
“Coffee?” I offer Valdrin a cup.
“Don’t touch the stuff. I prefer tea.”
My jaw ticks up. “I have—”
“I order my tea from overseas.” He holds up his hand. “I’m quite particular.”
“Don’t mind me. I need my fix.” I pour a mug of black silk heaven, and doctor it up with cream and sugar as I watch Valdrin take in my apartment.
“You’d really rather live here?” He runs a hand through ice blond hair that I don’t find jarring anymore.
“Then marry that psycho, Tahiri?” I choke on my disrespectful words, disguising it as a hot sip. “Sorry.”
“The real psycho, the dangerous criminal, is Connor Quinlan. We’re your family.”
I straighten, hearing him say family with a little too much passion. “We? Are you related to Noel, or my father?”
Valdrin clears his throat and threads his fingers together. “It’s a figure of speech.”
“So is go fuck yourself.” I smile and take another sip.
“I’ve heard that once or twice, but—” Valdrin freezes when Ruby wanders back into the kitchen wearing my satin robe that she didn’t bother to close.
“Oh!” Ruby’s jaw practically hits the floor, taking in Valdrin.
Okay, it’s not me.
Valdrin’s eyes drag over her with a heated gaze I fucking felt. A blush colors his olive-skinned cheeks. Ruby flinches, but meets his stare. Something thick and dark pulses between them.
I clear my throat. If I don’t cut the tension, someone’s going to end up pinned against a wall. And it just might be Valdrin.
“Valdrin, this is my neighbor, Ruby. Ruby, this is...” I hesitate to say he’s a mafia hitman. “A friend of my father’s.”
Ruby tosses bed head curls over one shoulder and eyes Valdrin with a look I’ve never seen on her face, not even at the strip club. I know her fake infatuated smile. This is pure arousal. I can almost fucking smell it on her.
“Hello,” she purrs, voice low and sweet.
Valdrin’s mouth twitches. “Ruby, is it?”
“Like the gem.” She twirls her hair.
Jesus fucking Christ, they’re flirting. I feel like an intruder in my own apartment.
“Ruby!” her father’s voice booms from the hallway.
She stiffens and closes her robe. “I should go.”
Valdrin levels her with a glare. “Who is that?”
“My father,” she answers, crawling into her typical shell of fear and shame.
“Take the coffee.” I offer her the mug even though it’s my favorite and I may never see it again.
“Thanks,” she whispers, but before she takes the cup, she slides my robe off her shoulders.
Valdrin looks ready to combust. Has Noel kept him in a basement somewhere? Has he not seen a woman in a while?
“Don’t take any of his crap,” I tell Ruby softly. “I’m here if you need me.”
“I’m here, too,” Valdrin says protectively.
“Right.” I open the door and toss Michael a glare that makes him shrink back. “Good morning. ”
“Morning,” he says curtly.
He knows what I do for a living and won’t fuck with me. He probably hates me because I’m Ruby’s escape. I also have a deadly mafia guy two feet away.
Ruby leaves, and I watch her walk into that nightmare of an apartment, glowering at Michael until he closes the door.
Shaking my head, I close mine and lean against it.
“What’s wrong with her father?” Valdrin asks me with the possessive gaze of a lion.
“He drinks.” I move back toward the kitchen for more coffee, leaving out that I worry Michael is sexually abusing his sweet daughter, or Valdrin might murder him.
She’s never said so, and I would never push her to admit something so awful and personal. She knows she can tell me anything.
Valdrin finally tears his gaze away from the front door and sets that green stare on me. “You know why I’m here.”
“I thought I’d have a few more days to think about your offer. Are you here to drag me out of my home to live with Noel today ?” My throat tightens.
Valdrin leans against the archway that divides the kitchen and the entry hallway. “No. We can’t parade you around as Noel’s fiancée and the new princess of the brotherhood, then send you off to kill a mob capo.”
“And what about after?” I fold my arms. “Do you think the Quinlans won’t retaliate?”
“They will never get near you once you are Noel’s wife.”
I’ll be a prisoner. In a gilded cage. I put down my mug. “Then you don’t need an answer from me. You cornered me.”
“In time, you will grow to accept you are the heart of our brotherhood.”
Time...
If they’re giving me time with this assignment, I will use it to figure a way out of marrying Noel Tahiri.
Or kill him .
“What is your plan for me to kill Connor?”
“There is a fundraiser for the Governor’s re-election campaign this weekend. Men of money, power, and politics will be there,” Valdrin says with a hint of jealousy in his voice. “The Quinlans are very tight with the mayor. Connor will be making a rare appearance. He doesn’t like those things.”
Something pings in my chest. I don’t like those things either. Connor sounds like my kind of guy. Too bad I have to kill him.
Fear snaking down my spine, I ask, “Am I killing him at a fundraiser?”
“No,” Valdrin answers sharply. “You will meet him. Make him like you. Make him trust you so you can get close enough to strike at a later date.”
“How well have you been studying him?”
“While he’s heavily protected by the enforcer team, he doesn’t have a personal guard like his two brothers.”
“What does this guy do for female fun?”
“We don’t know. We’ve never seen him with a woman,” Valdrin grouses.
“Interesting.” I don’t bother asking if he’s gay. I can give him the girlfriend experience or the gal pal one. I just have to be close to him. “Where does he live?”
“We don’t know. But he operates out of a private tunnel where he and his team interrogate and kill people, Raina. He’s the bad guy here. Not Noel.”
I think about that. All mafia families have enforcers and black sites. I’m sure Noel does, too. But I don’t bother asking .
“What does Connor look like?” Although I can guess. Irish, sickly pale, thin, greasy hair, and scrawny.
Valdrin takes out his phone, and after swiping, he hands it to me. “Here.”
I glance at the phone, and my sight goes offline along with my heart.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I’m staring at rich mahogany hair, sparkling blue eyes, and glowing skin belonging to my one-night stand.
Arguably, the greatest night of my life.
I think. I was drunk, but we fucked so many times, he banged the drunk right out of me.
He enjoyed me even more when I sobered up. He was gentle between the rough sex.
Connor’s expression is so severe, so seductive that I forget where I am. He’s stunning in a way that makes butterflies in my stomach hatch in droves.
His hair is shorter in the back and longer in the front. His cut jawline, cheekbones sharp enough to draw blood, and a nose that had been broken at least once only make him more gorgeous. Not the other way around.
Damn, he looks dangerous.
Did I not see all these details that night two months ago? What the hell have I gotten myself into?
I can’t look at that photo anymore and stare into the eyes I have to snuff out. Yet, just thinking that in my head has the butterflies protesting, like those sticky, spindly black legs are collectively kicking my stomach from the inside.
I also can’t give away that I know my mark. This assignment just got easier. I’m not exactly a stranger. And we had a great night together.
We’ve never seen him with a woman.
That comment hits differently now. They didn’t see him with me .
“Do you own a gown?” Valdrin asks, knocking me from my meltdown.
I tilt my head. “Of course, I don’t own a gown.”
Exhaling, he makes a call and then gives me an address to shop for one. I reluctantly write it down.
“And I suggest you wear a thigh holster.”
I lift my eyes. “At a fundraiser?”
“With mobsters?” he scoffs like I’m stupid.
Admittedly, I would feel better armed. My emotional-support eight-inch black fixed blade will sit nicely under all the tulle of a ridiculously big dress.
“And you think Connor will like me enough to bring me somewhere I can take him out?”
“Exactly.” Valdrin puts his phone away and sits at my kitchen table. “Now let’s go over what you have to do.”
Too bad my next one-night stand with Connor Quinlan will be his last night on earth.