Jaded Devil: An Enemies-to-Lovers Mafia Romance

by Nicole Fox

  “Except, apparently, when it comes to this woman,” she says, meeting my eye. “Your men talk, Kian.”

  I roll my eyes. “Bunch of schoolgirl gossips. Fine. We’ll circle back on this topic. What’s the play right now?”

  “Your brother is in the city.”

  “Took him long enough.”

  She smirks. “We’ve come up with a plan to get you out of here. But we need to move fast. I’ve already wasted time answering your damn questions.”

  “I’m guessing there’s a diversion set up.”

  “Already in play,” she replies. “Drago is at the front gate asking for Rokiades.”

  “Drago Lombardi?” I ask incredulously.

  “That’s the one.”

  “Jesus. That fucker’s a wild card.”

  “I’m pretty sure your brother scared the shit out of him,” she tells me with a quiet chuckle. “He’s going to play his part.”

  “You can’t say anything for sure. There’s no telling what that slimy Italian bastard will do.”

  “Rokiades left him for dead. He knows that he can’t trust the Greek. Don’t worry so much,” she tells me. “Just trust the plan.”

  “That would be easier if you’d tell me what the plan actually is.”

  “Glad you asked,” she says wryly, pulling something from her coat pockets.

  “Is that blood?”

  She nods and jiggles the plastic pouch in her hand. “You’re going to cough up some of this lovely, fresh, A-positive blood like it’s your very own. I’m going to call for the guards while you pretend like you’re choking on it and you’re going to die if I don’t intervene. I’ll have to flip you over and ask them to take off the cuffs,” she continues. “Once you’re free, we can fight them off and get you out of here.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “There are three guards out there,” I point out. “All armed. Unless you have a couple of Glocks under all those layers, this seems like an easy way to get a couple bullets in my chest.”

  She smiles. “Glocks? Not quite. But I do have this.” She pulls out a small surgeon’s scalpel and offers it to me.

  In the wrong hands, it’s next to useless. In the right hands, it’s a weapon of mass destruction.

  Guess which category I belong to?

  I tuck the razor-sharp blade away in the waistband of my pants.

  “Be careful with that,” she warns. “It’s sharp.”

  “Got it, Mom.”

  She glares at me. “I could just leave you in here, you know. It would spare me a lot of your sass.”

  “Then who would play the part of your fearless leader?” I drawl. I’m already looking up beyond her, to the door separating us from the guards that are usually stationed right outside.

  With the scalpel at my disposal, I’m confident that I can take them all. And Sarah’s no slouch in the fighting department, either. She trained on Clan premises for a few years before I decided to cultivate her undercover persona. That being said, it’s been a minute since she’s been required to fight at all.

  “You remember your training?” I ask.

  “Don’t insult me.”

  “There’s three of them out there.”

  “I know. It’s hardly fair to the poor bastards.”

  I smirk as she cuts open the bag of blood and starts strategically splashing it all over my body.

  “Does Renata know where your loyalties lie?” I ask while she does her work.

  “Of course not. Telling her would have only complicated matters.”

  “How does she seem…?”

  “About what, dear?”

  “You’re going to make me say it?”

  Sarah grins wickedly. “I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

  “How does she seem about my baby in her womb?” I grimace.

  “Oh! That silly thing?” Her smile fades somewhat. “She doesn’t trust me enough to confide in me, Kian. She feels lost. Trapped. I’ve experienced that enough to recognize it on someone else’s face.”

  “I’m gonna get her out of here,” I vow.

  “First things first,” Sarah says, splattering her own clothes with a little blood. “We get you out of here.” She finishes up and pushes the bag of remaining blood into my hands. “Pretend it’s Guinness and take a nice, big swig.”

  “Oi. Don’t joke. That’s grim, even for you.” I hold my breath and take a gulp just as Sarah starts banging on the door, her face contorted into controlled hysteria.

  “Help! Help! Guards, get in here! Hurry!”

  The door bursts open as I stash the bag of blood under the mattress. My mouth is suffused with the metallic taste of blood from who-the-fuck-knows-where.

  I flop to the ground and start spasming. All three guards pour in with their weapons drawn. Clearly, they’ve assumed I’m attacking the doctor. Instead, they find me thrashing around on the floor next to the bed, spurting out blood intermittently and groaning like a dying goat. I let my eyes pinwheel around in their sockets.

  “He’s got some internal bleeding!” Sarah tells the guards. “I need to turn him over. You’ll have to uncuff him.”

  I can’t see the guards’ expressions as Sarah makes a show out of trying to roll me over.

  “Hurry!” she barks. “He’ll die if I don’t do this fast!”

  I hear the scurrying of feet. One of the guards kneels behind me and undoes the cuffs. My hands fall free instantly.

  The scalpel is digging into my side. Sarah was right—it’s sharp as hell. The skin at my waist parts effortlessly beneath the blade. More blood—my own, this time—starts to trickle down my torso as Sarah and the guards work together to heave me onto my back.

  “Okay, I need two of you to hold him down for me,” Sarah says urgently. “Hurry, or we might lose him! Rokiades still needs the Irish bastard.”

  Still uncertain but in no mood to argue with the fiery doctor, two of the guards crouch down on either side of me.

  It’s the last thing they’ll ever do.

  I snatch the scalpel out of my waistband. Before either one has a chance to realize what’s happening, my arm slashes across the air. I slit the first guard’s throat so fast that he never even realizes it’s happened.

  The second one has maybe a quarter-second of awareness before his throat is slit, too.

  The third guard is standing in front of me as I rise. He’s got a look of sheer horror etched on his face. Frozen in place, the gun dangling from his hand uselessly.

  But before he’s even realized he’s still armed, Sarah’s hand flashes from behind. His throat opens up just like the others. His knees buckle a second later and he hits the ground with a low thud.

  All in all, they’ve been in the room for less than thirty seconds. What a fucking way to die.

  “Nice work,” I say, looking down at Sarah’s kill. “Clean.”

  “You taught me well. Not bad yourself, either.”

  “I taught you everything you know,” I remind her with a laugh. “I didn’t teach you everything I know.” I bend over to sweep up the guns from the dead men. “Time to go, though,” I say, handing one of the firearms over to Sarah.

  Once we’re properly armed, we run out of the cell, keeping our eyes open.

  “How many guards are stationed around the warehouse?” I ask.

  “At least two by the main entrance.”

  “Let’s try and kill them as silently as possible,” I say. “If a gunshot goes off, we’re fucked.”

  The moment I finish speaking, I hear footsteps approaching from the opposite side of the corridor. Before I can jump out of sight, the guard turns and spots me. His face goes bug-eyed. His mouth opens, getting ready to alert the others.

  Then a gunshot pierces the air before a single word can escape his lips. The guard drops to the floor instantly.

  I turn to see the end of Sarah’s gun smoking slightly. “Sorry,” she says wryly, “I missed that last bit you said. Something about killing silently?”


  “Fuck,” I groan. “We gotta move.”

  But as soon as I break into a run, a cacophony of gunshots fills the air. It’s followed a beat later by an explosion that makes the bones of the warehouse shake.

  I don’t know much about what’s happening right now, but when I hear those sounds, I know one thing for sure: all hell is about to break loose.

  54

  Renata

  Renata’s Bedroom

  I pace up and down my room, wondering what’s happening out there. It’s been almost ten minutes since Rokiades ordered his guards to escort me back to my room and lock me in here.

  Also: Drago is here. Why the hell is Drago here?

  I want to believe he’s working with the Clan now, but I’m not so sure. Truthfully, I’ve never been sure of Drago. He changes alliances like the wind, regardless of whose life hangs in the balance. The only life he’s ever truly cared about is his own.

  He sure as hell never cared about mine.

  I have to believe that the O’Sullivan Clan has something to do with his presence here. There’s no way Drago would voluntarily walk into the home of the man who tried to kill him. Not without a damn good reason.

  I keep pacing. Every time I hit the window, I gaze out at the roof of the warehouse. My body feels clawingly aware of everything. Every noise makes me jump.

  Rokiades had left me with a reminder. “When I’m done with your brother, I want your decision. Kian or the runt.”

  I didn’t bother to tell him that he’d promised me twenty-four hours. I don’t expect anything from Rokiades, least of all honesty.

  My hand flutters over my stomach as I make my millionth circuit around the room. Kian had been so sure. Choose the baby. He made it sound simple.

  I wish I had an ounce of that certainty. My heart plummets when I think about what it would mean if my decision actually comes to pass. What if the Clan doesn’t show up in time? What if Rokiades changes his mind and kills Kian immediately?

  A hundred other what ifs roll through my head. And each one only makes me feel more helpless than the one before.

  I walk back towards my door and rattle the handle. It doesn’t budge. Not that I expect anything different. It’s more like a nervous tic. Something to do even if I know it’s going to accomplish exactly nothing.

  On my way back to the window, I stop and scan the warehouse once again. I notice a few dark vehicles whizz past, but I don’t think much of it. Probably just more of Rokiades’s stooges entering the compound.

  I’m still staring at the roof of the warehouse when I hear the gunshot. It’s slight, given the distance, but I’m a hundred percent sure I haven’t imagined it.

  A single word slips from my lips. “No!”

  Has Yannis killed Kian? Has he taken matters into his own hands after all?

  My stomach twists. Pain inches into the corners of my chest and squeezes tight. It feels like someone is trying to choke me from the inside.

  “Oh, God. It can’t be. He can’t be dead…”

  A single shot. A kill shot. An execution shot.

  The reality that Kian might be dead seems to pull things into focus for me. Suddenly, everything becomes clear. Everything becomes simple.

  I trust Kian O’Sullivan.

  Hell, I may even love Kian O’Sullivan.

  It makes zero sense. As with many things in my life, I’ve had no say in falling for him. But this is the first time that I don’t mind that choice being taken from me.

  I wonder if I’ve made my peace with that just in time for him to die.

  Suddenly, the silence that followed the first boom is broken by a storm of answering gunshots. I hear an explosion soon after. It’s so loud that I drop to my hands and knees and crawl towards my bed. The entire foundation of the house seems to bellow with complaint as another explosion goes off. This one is not far from where I am.

  “I have to get out of here,” I whisper to myself. Swallowing hard, I force myself to my feet and rush to the door. I slam my palms against the cold wood and scream. “Let me out! Let me out now!”

  There’s definitely something going down outside. The door unlocks and two of my guards run inside. I expect them to grab me and pull me out into the corridor, but they slam the door shut and aim their guns at it.

  “What the hell is going on?” I demand.

  The guards exchange a glance. “We’re under fire.”

  “From whom?”

  “Fuck if I know,” the younger guard mutters. He’s clearly rattled, but trying not to show it.

  Before I can ask a follow-up question, I hear another tirade of gunshots and raised voices. The guards talk back and forth between themselves as if I’m not even here.

  “Fuck! They’re coming.”

  “What should we do?”

  “If we lose the girl, the boss will have our heads.”

  The younger guys looks to his buddy incredulously. “We might die before then.”

  Just then, the door is kicked open. Both guards fall scrambling backwards. I manage to jump out of the way just in time to see an armed man storm into the room. His eyes are fixed on my guards, so he barely notices me.

  I slip into the corner of the room, close to the wardrobe, and cower behind it.

  The guards raise their guns and prepare to shoot, but the man who just entered moves with scary precision as he takes aim and fires off the first shot.

  The younger guard collapses back against the carpeted floor with a bullet in his forehead. He was right—he was dead long before he had to worry about his boss’s wrath. I avoid looking at his face as I move quietly against the wall of the room until I make it almost all the way to the door.

  The killer is still focused on the second guard. He hasn’t noticed me yet. But the second guard is facing me. His eyes bulge as he sees me reach for the doorknob. I’m so close. If I can just slip through the crack…

  The guard eyes me just past the bulk of the man who stormed in and started firing. Don’t say anything, I beg silently. I’m twisting the knob slowly, slowly, slowly…

  “The girl!” croaks the second guard. His finger jabs out at me.

  The killer turns.

  Raises his gun.

  I wrench the door open and dive through it.

  Just before he makes the second killing shot, I rush through the door.

  BOOM! At the same time that I hit the floor outside, there’s another gunshot. I don’t know who fired. Who’s dead. I closed my eyes at some point during my leap to freedom, and as I open them now and look down, I half-expect to see my lifeblood surging out through a hole in my chest.

  But it wasn’t me. I didn’t get hit.

  And I’m not waiting around to see who did.

  I scramble to my feet and rush through the house. My only goal is to get to Kian as quickly as possible. As I run, the sounds of ongoing fighting erupt from every wing and every corridor.

  I have to peek around every corner before I sprint past to make sure I’m not wandering into a firefight. Half the time, I have to double back and hide in a room or behind a piece of furniture as armed men hurry past. But somehow, I manage to get to the second floor without being noticed.

  “Napravit'sya na vostok!” the man in front barks.

  Something occurs to me suddenly as I duck behind an ugly green sofa while another squadron of soldiers storms past me. That sounded a lot like… Russian?

  What the hell?

  I don’t have time to puzzle out the mystery. As soon as the men are gone, I move down the broad corridor. I only have to clear the foyer now. That’ll take me to the main entrance. From there, I just need to get to the warehouse next door.

  I hear another gunshot, and plaster myself against the wall. I can see the front door from here, but once I step out of the corridor, it’s open space. There’s no way to hide. There’s also no other way to leave the house from this wing.

  Guess I’ll have to chance it.

  I’m about to make a run for it when the
main door is pushed open and two people walk through. I stop short, hoping that desperation isn’t making me see things.

  “Kian?” I gasp.

  His neck snaps up at the same time as Dr. Lenore’s does.

  “Renata!” he gasps. “What the fuck are you doing here out in the open?”

  He’s covered in blood. Actually, it looks more like he’s thrown up blood. The front of his shirt is soaked in a crusting crimson. And yet, he seems perfectly fine. Or at least, as fine as can be expected under the circumstances. It’s the fire in his eyes that does it. That hasn’t dimmed one bit, despite the weeks of torture at the hands of the Greeks.

  I forget about the fact that we’re practically in a war zone right now. I just rush over to him and grab his hands.

  “Kian, what happened? Are you okay?” A part of me is aware that I’m panicking. But it helps to see his blue eyes. Even in the face of the chaos raging around us, he seems so calm. So unflustered.

  Actually, so does Dr. Lenore. Wait. Why is she even with him?

  “I’m fine,” he says distractedly. “The blood isn’t mine. Come on, we’ve got to find a good hiding spot.”

  “Can’t we leave?” I ask, looking towards the front door.

  “No. Rokiades’s men are coming in fast. They’ve been recalled from every safehouse in the area. There’s no way we’re getting out,” Dr. Lenore informs me. “We barely made it in here.”

  She’s as calm as Kian is. It’s freaking unsettling.

  “This way,” she tells us. “I know a way out, but it’s on the other side of the house.”

  More gunfire swallows up the all the questions on my lips. As Dr. Lenore takes the lead, Kian grabs my hand and pulls me behind him. I just stare at him, relieved that he seems to be okay. “Why did you even come back?” I ask as he pulls me back down the corridor.

  He looks at me as though I’ve asked an incredibly obvious question. “Why?” he repeats. “Because I knew you were still in here.”

  We hear someone scream not far from us. Kian steps in front of me instinctively and holds out an arm to tuck me behind him. “Sarah, take lead.”

  I frown. “Do you two know each other?” I ask, barely paying attention to where we’re going.