VALENTINA
“How’s Diego?” Ruslan smooths his hair back from his forehead and leans closer to the mirror. “He gets his stitches out today, right?”
“Yeah, this afternoon, in fact.” My hands move over my breasts to adjust my dress, ensuring everything is tucked in and secured with as much tape as I can get away with.
“I bet he’s ready for that. A week of not being able to eat or talk properly?” Ruslan grimaces and adjusts his bowtie. “That would kill me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I smirk as I shift my weight and adjust how the knife garter rests against my thigh. “Honestly, I’ve kind of liked being able to take care of him. It won’t ever compare to what he did for me, can’t compare, if I’m honest, but it was nice to provide.”
“Look at you.” Ruslan glances at me in the mirror. “All dewy and in love.”
“Fuck off.”
“That’s the Valentina I know.” His lips slide into a grin. “Seriously, though, it’s nice to see. No one ever said this life had to be lonely.”
“This entire world is lonely,” I reply. “But… you’re right. And Diego is…” My mind wanders as I search through countless words that would all be good enough to describe him, and yet none of them feel like enough.
How do I describe a man who trusted a bleeding, beaten woman who threw herself into his car and threatened to kill him?
A man who then cared for that woman, risked his own life, faced the pain of his past and then endured more torture in nine hours than most men in this world would suffer in a week?
There are no words to describe him.
Other than he’s mine and I love him.
This past week has been a yo-yo of settling back into myself, taking care of Diego, and working with Bradley to torture every sick and twisted scumbag we took from that warehouse. Everyone broke, even the ones who snarled at me through bloodied teeth while promising to escape and fuck me raw.
They all caved and soon, we had a full list of every buyer and client who had ever had dealings with those Armenian scumbags. Most were overseas, so Bradley reached out to contacts all over the world, but those few who remain in NYC? They’re our problem.
Now, we’re on to pest control.
“Ready?” Ruslan turns to me and offers his elbow. “I think it’s about time Mr. and Mrs. Hannigan made their way upstairs, don’t you think?”
I check my makeup one last time, then smile politely and loop my hand around his elbow. “I think so too.”
The bathroom door opens and the masks slide on.
Ruslan and I step into the only roles that could get us into this hotel without raising any suspicion.
Using the Suit as a way to access all of these hotels was doable, but given how the Armenians and their clients were clever enough to try and frame other Mafia families for their crimes, we work on the assumption that news of us would reach their ears.
I need revenge and the last thing I want to do is chase these bastards out of the country before I can get it.
Pretending to be someone else is much easier and much more fun.
“Oh, darling.” I raise my voice slightly as we walk through a foyer filled to the brim with not-so-subtly armed guards. “I met the most charming gentleman in the bar earlier.”
“Did you indeed?” Ruslan replies.
“Yes, in fact, he invited me up for a little nightcap.”
“Did he?” Ruslan’s fake anger ignites. “And who the fuck thinks they can invite my wife to some kind of nightcap? What sort of shoddy, good-for-nothing establishment is this!”
“Darling, please!”
Ruslan spins to face me, eyes narrow and glaring. “What was his name?!”
“Oh, it was… it was nothing. I forget!”
“You forget?! Maybe you need a hand remembering, huh?” As he grabs my arm, on cue, one of the attendants near the elevator darts forward with every intent of defusing the situation before it turns into something that would draw far too much attention.
“Excuse me, Sir, Madam. What seems to be the problem?”
“Problem?!” Ruslan roars and as he turns, he shoves me away and into the attendant. “I pay out of my arse for a room in this place and you’re telling me some absolute scumbag can still hit on my wife in the bar?!”
“Sir, please calm down! Ma’am, are you alright?”
“Yes, I’m fine, I’m fine! Darling, please, let’s take this upstairs! I don’t want to argue in the foyer!”
Ruslan turns back to me and sighs deeply. “Fine.” He offers me his elbow once more, then snaps at the attendant who’s watching him like he’s a pot about to boil over. “Well?! The elevator won’t call itself!”
The poor man scrambles over himself to reach the elevator button but as we pass him and step inside, it’s visibly clear that he’s relieved we’re taking our argument elsewhere. Ruslan continues to grumble and heave until the doors slide closed.
“Did you get it?”
“Was there ever a question?” I smirk as I hold up the attendant’s access card I swiped from his pocket the moment Ruslan thrust us together. “I have my memories back and nothing was lost.”
“And yet the two hundred bucks you owe me just won’t ever be replaced.” Ruslan sighs dramatically as he pulls his phone out.
I hit the button for the penthouse and slide the access card over the reader. It beeps immediately. “You’re such a liar,” I reply. “I don’t owe you anything.”
“Was worth a shot.” Ruslan grins with his phone to his ear. “Raven? We’re on our way up now. Cass still got eyes?”
Whatever Raven says in reply has Ruslan nodding quickly, then he hangs up and pockets his phone. My stomach drops ever so slightly as the elevator rushes upward, then I slide my knife out of its holster and twirl it around my fingers.
“We still good?”
“Cassian still has eyes on our prime buyer. He’s out by the pool. There’s a handful of guys to take care of, but nothing we can’t handle. Bradley will enter the lobby in a couple of minutes and keep everyone down there distracted while we clean up.”
“Any sign of the girls?”
Ruslan pauses checking his gun and shakes his head. “No.”
“Fuck.”
“We’ll find her,” he says softly.
“Will we?” I glance at him and hold his gaze for a second, then turn away. Tabitha wasn’t with any of the buyers we previously dealt with, but she also wasn’t on any records leaving the country, either. The longer she remains missing, the more likely it is that she’s dead.
“I dream of her. Every night. I close my eyes and Diego holds me and I fall asleep, and then all I can see is her sweet little face, and all I hear are the noises she made when they hurt her trying to make me talk.”
“Val…” Ruslan steps forward and his presence warms my back. “No one blames you. You didn’t have anything to do with her other than stopping to help her. You know how these twisted fuckers are. If it wasn’t you, it would have been someone else.”
I know he’s right, but the guilt remains knotted beneath my ribs. Every day I spent without my memories was a day she spent getting closer to her demise. I could have helped her and I failed.
Now we’re following cold trails, killing child traffickers and their clients who dared to carry out their work on our turf.
The elevator finally hisses to a stop, and the doors slide open onto a deeply luxurious carpet that’s butter soft under my bare feet after I kick off my heels.
“You ready?” I murmur, flipping my blade so that the hilt remains in my palm and the blade aligns with my forearm.
“Yeah.” Ruslan quickly gets down on the floor. “ Call them.”
“Help!” I stumble out of the elevator and grab at my dress. “Help me!” My shouts carry toward two men flanking the penthouse door and they both tense at the sight of me.
“Ma’am?”
“Please help me! Help him! I don’t know what happened. We were just kissing and getting handsy, and then he collapsed! You have to help me! Call someone! Do something!”
They both hurry forward with their hands on their belts while I sag against the wall and feign crying. The moment they see Ruslan’s ‘unconscious’ on the floor, they surge forward to help him.
“Sir? Can you hear me?”
“Sir, what happened?”
The first man gets Ruslan’s knife directly into his throat while I throw myself onto the back of the second and plunge my knife into the side of his neck. He rears backward and stumbles, but I use my weight to guide him back into the elevator, then rip the blade from his throat in one smooth move.
Both men die quickly and quietly to sprays of crimson erupting from their throats like fountains.
Kinder than they deserve, considering who they work for.
“You good?” Ruslan climbs to his feet and takes my arm, guiding me away from the pooling blood on the floor.
“Yeah.” I nod and shake my knife to remove the excess blood. “Let’s get this fucker.”
One of the men has a keycard hanging from his belt, so I snatch it and follow Ruslan to the door. He nods twice, then steps aside and lets me slide the keycard into the electronic lock. It clicks once and flashes green, then I press on the door handle and slide inside.
Soft music drifts through the air, carrying the scents of alcohol and expensive soaps. Bradley told us the target is still out by the pool, so that’s where we head while hugging the walls on either side of the hallway.
Several guards mill about, either patrolling the hallways of the penthouse or lingering in rooms we pass.
It’s easy to take care of them when they don’t know we’re coming.
Each neck I stab is reminiscent of my days as an assassin working for my father, where I would find a kind of peace in taking a life.
I lost that peace until I found Diego. Now, being with him is all the peace I need.
I leave the kitchen sprayed in blood from three dead bodies and dab at my split lip where one right hook landed before I could block it. Ruslan joins me a minute later, wiping sweat from his brow. Two dead guards litter the bedroom he’s just come out of.
“How many more?” I ask in a low voice.
Ruslan shrugs. There’s no way to know for sure, but as long as we get the real scumbag here, the rest will be easy.
This is our city.