Kiss of Death Boxset

by Lovell, LP

  “I did.” Nicholai does things a certain way. You have to play his game and wait for him to tell you what he actually wants.

  “And I asked you to come home, little dove.”

  “I can’t do that.” I get up and glance out the window, but of course, even Nicholai can’t scale a skyscraper.

  “You wound me. But no matter. I told you I would come for you, though, I have had to go to great lengths. I’m not happy with you.”

  My whole body goes tense as his words sink in. “What lengths?” Silence. “What lengths?” I repeat, my voice rising. I turn around and Nero is standing in the doorway, his dark eyes glinting like onyx in the dim light from the city below.

  “Una?” A small voice comes over the line. My knees go weak and I squeeze my eyes shut as I brace my back against the window.

  “Anna.” I whisper, slowly sliding down the glass until I hit the floor. “Are you okay?” I’m aware of Nero moving closer but I keep my gaze fixed on the dark patch of carpet in front of me.

  “I think so. What’s going on?”

  “Just stay calm. Do what they say. I’m coming for you.”

  There’s a rustling sound before I hear Nicholai’s voice again. “She looks so much like you, little dove. But you were always so strong, Una. You are the perfect soldier, to be surpassed only by your child.” The way he says it like a kid getting excited about a new toy makes me feel sick. “But Anna…Anna is not strong like you, little dove. She will not make a soldier…” He lets that hang in the air between us.

  “I promise you, if you touch her, I will tear your heart from your chest,” I snarl, the emotions bubbling and swirling uncontrollably inside me.

  “Tsk-tsk, I raised you better than that. You have been away too long. It has tainted you. I thought I taught you well enough that love is weakness. Your sister, the Italian, your child…they weaken you, Una. You have become fragile,” he spits, anger consuming his voice. There’s a pause before he speaks again. “But it is fine. It is fine. I can fix you. Don’t worry, little dove. I will make you perfect again. And I will make your child stronger than even you.” I squeeze my eyes shut and press my clenched fist to my forehead. “You will come home, and I will set Anna free. You have forty-eight hours, and then I kill her. Tick-tock.” The line goes dead and I launch the phone across the room, leaving a dent in the drywall.

  I press my palms against my eyes to try and keep from crying, but it’s pointless. I’m fucking scared. I’m scared for Anna, I’m scared for my baby and I’m scared for myself because I know exactly what awaits me when I go back there. He will ‘reset’ me. Months of electric shock therapy, training, waterboarding and reflex conditioning. There is only one way to survive that, and that is to check out, to become numb. No one makes it out of there with a shred of humanity left intact. The human mind cannot endure it, and that’s why he does it. He doesn’t want humans. He wants soldiers, robots, killers without a conscience.

  Fingers brush over my jaw, and I drop my hands, meeting Nero’s hard gaze. Will I remember him? When Nicholai wipes all traces of feeling from me, will I remember this feeling? Will I even know that I loved him, or will he simply seem like a distant weakness, nothing more than the shadow of a memory? And my child…will I love it? I’m not sure even mother nature can override Nicholai’s methods.

  He swipes at the tears below my eyes. “You are not going,” he says, a growl in his voice.

  “He has Anna.”

  He nods. “I know.”

  “What?” I climb to my feet and move away from him, shaking my head. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I didn’t know for sure that he had her.”

  “Fuck!” I drag both hands through my hair. “How did this happen, Nero? You told me she was protected!” I can’t help but feel a small sting of betrayal because I fucking trusted him. I believed foolishly that Nero’s word, his power, was infinite. And I underestimated Nicholai’s reach despite everything I know about him, and that is the bottom line—I should have known. I let my wistful hope cloud my judgement and it has just cost me dearly. I will not let Anna pay the price for my actions. He wants me, not her. She’s nothing more than bait. A helpless soul caught in the middle of Nicholai’s twisted obsession with me.

  “He’ll kill her,” I whisper, imagining all the horrible things he’ll do to her, the ways he’ll make her suffer, and just because I defied him. “I have to go to him.”

  “No.” His voice is deceptively calm. I turn to face him, but he catches me off guard by wrapping his arms around me from behind. One arm goes across my chest, pinning my wrists flush to my body while the other tightens around my waist. “Don’t struggle,” he whispers roughly in my ear. My heartbeat hammers against my eardrums and my breath hitches.

  I fight his hold, but his arms are like steel. “Nero…”

  “I won’t let you do it, Morte.” His breath touches my neck. His hard body is unrelenting. “You don’t get a say when it comes to the safety of our baby.”

  I take a deep breath and compose myself. “You don’t understand,” I say. “He’ll kill her and then he’ll just keep coming. He will. Never. Stop.”

  “Una…”

  “You said we were equals.”

  He hesitates, and a low groan slips past his lips. “This is different. Your head isn’t clear when it comes to Anna.”

  “Do you trust me?” I whisper, twisting my head towards him. He presses his cheek to mine, the stubble of his jaw scratching over my skin. Ragged breaths slip from his lips and I can almost feel his desperation like a living breathing demon in the room. He’s scared. Nero is scared.

  “Morte…”

  “Do you trust me?” I repeat.

  He sighs. “Yes.”

  “We have to control it.”

  “What?”

  I struggle to get free and he reluctantly releases me, though he looks ready to pounce again at any moment. “Nicholai thinks he has the upper hand,” I say, “and we have to let him think that, lull him into a false sense of security…” His dark eyes lock with mine. I see that urge in him, the need to lock me up and throw away the key. I have to make him see. “I know where he’ll take me. You can come for me.”

  “You’re not fucking going!” His voice rises steadily, his body bristling with tension.

  “I have to!” He takes an ominous step forward, and I shuffle back. “If I go, he’ll think he’s won. I can…I can get close to him, take him out from the inside,” I say in a rush. “It’s the only way.”

  “No,” he growls.

  “Just hear me out. And try to be objective.”

  “I can’t be objective when it comes to you.”

  “And that is why Nicholai will win, because he does not love, he does not feel. He has no weakness,” I say.

  He cups my cheek, forcing me to look at him. “Love is not a weakness, Morte. It is strength.” I wish I could believe him, but with so many people I love on the line, I don’t feel very strong.

  “I am his only weakness,” I say slowly. “I’m the only one who can do this, Nero.”

  His jaw tenses and he sighs heavily before getting to his feet and walking away from me. “No, I have another plan. Get dressed. We’re expecting visitors.” And then he’s heading out of the room, dismissing me completely.

  * * *

  I sit on the couch in Nero’s office while he makes several calls. I’m staring at a laptop screen, but I can feel his eyes on me. My leg bounces erratically. The walls of the room feel as if they’re pressing in on me. All I can see in my mind is that broken image of Anna before Nero found her and bought her. I see the thin and broken girl being raped on a web cam for the sick entertainment of depraved men. Would Nicholai do that to her? Will she survive that again?

  Eventually I can’t take Nero’s burning stare anymore. I decide to leave and go in search of some coffee. I’m standing at the breakfast bar, eating a granola bar and petting George’s head, trying to calm myself, when the ding of t
he elevator reaches me. The second I hear the distinctive lilt of Spanish accents, I’m storming through the apartment. I recognize Rafael D’Cruze from all the years that Nicholai would make us learn every influential leader, capo, boss or even dirty politician.

  Four men are with him, and they’re all talking quickly to Nero and Gio. Rafael’s expression is serious as he folds his arms over his chest, his posture defensive. I storm in their direction and, at the last minute, they all look up at me.

  “Ah, shit,” Gio mumbles, just as I spring off the floor and drill my fist into Rafael’s jaw.

  One of his men moves, and I yank a gun from the back of my jeans and point it at his head. “I will shoot your worthless, sack of shit ass where you stand,” I say, deceptively calmly.

  Rafael rubs his jaw and raises his eyebrows, glancing at Nero. “She always like this?” Nero shrugs one shoulder before shifting to stand beside me.

  “They’re here to help,” Nero says.

  I glare at Rafael, meanwhile the guy in front of my gun shifts slightly. “Loco puta,” he mumbles. I pistol-whip him across the bridge of his nose without taking my eyes off Rafael. The guy staggers back, clutching his now broken nose. Nero clears his throat to cover a laugh.

  “You lost my sister,” I say through gritted teeth.

  Rafael sighs and swipes a hand over his face. “Do not think that I take this lightly. The Russians killed two of my men and shot another.” There’s an edge to him, something dangerously unhinged, and usually I’d take note of it, but today, I’d sooner just kill him.

  “I don’t give a fuck about your men! You promised me she was safe with you.” Nero promised me and I hate that he did because now I can’t take his word.

  “She was heavily guarded and in one of my houses that only my closest men know about.”

  “Well then, it looks like one of your closest men is a rat, Rafael,” I growl, glaring at the men standing beside him. I never should have left her with other people. I may put her in danger, but I’m careful, Nero is careful. He keeps only his most loyal close. None of Nero’s men would have sold her out, but outsiders can easily be bought, and Nicholai has a lot to offer as payment.

  “They shot my brother,” one of the guys behind him says as though I give a shit.

  “I. Don’t. Care. If I were you, my only concern would be the fact that my sister is gone.” I glance at the guy who spoke. “Do you know who I am?" I ask quietly. He glares back at me. I step around Rafael and stand toe to toe with the man. “If I don’t get her back, I’m going to come to Mexico and end your entire fucking cartel.”

  “O-kay…” Nero wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me back against his chest. “They came to help.” I shrug away from him and pace the length of the room. I can feel their eyes on me, watching to see what I’ll do next. I feel like I’m hanging by a thread, my emotions swinging like a pendulum. I’m this close to snapping, but I won’t do it in front of these men. I leave the foyer and go into the darkened living room, moving to the window. I need to think, but my mind is this foggy swarm of emotions and nothing is clear.

  I don’t trust them. They must have a rat? Or what if they don’t? What if Nicholai paid Rafael for Anna and this is all just a set up? I press my hand to my stomach and squeeze my eyes shut. A floorboard creaks behind me. I know it’s Nero without looking. His lips skim over my shoulder and I lean back against him. The touch that once left me so conflicted now feels like the only real thing in my life. And, in the midst of complete chaos, he’s the only one I can rely on. I trust no one, except him.

  “We need help, Morte.” His arm snakes up the front of my body, bracing over my chest before his fingers loosely wrap around my throat.

  My fingertips trace over the length of his forearm and I grip his wrist, twisting my head to the side. “What if they’re working with him? We can’t trust them.”

  His lips press against my temple and his free hand glides over my stomach. “No. You don’t have to trust them, you have me.” I turn in his arms and look up at him. His chin is tilted down, his dark eyes, hard and determined, locked with mine. “Let me handle it.” His hand cups the side of my cheek, and I lean in, touching my forehead to his. His warm breath skitters over my lips, the subtle scent of mint and cigarette smoke swirling around me. “You…” He hesitates, his jaw clenching as his fingers flinch against my skin. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid. Tell me we’re together on this.” He sounds so oddly vulnerable and it breaks my heart a little. It’s a promise I know I can’t keep, but I make it anyway.

  “Always,” I whisper. He grips my face and kisses me hard, his lips moving over mine as though he’s trying to stain my very soul. Little does he know, he irrevocably imprinted himself on me a long time ago. Whatever plan Nero is trying to come up with, he’s grasping at straws, I know that. He knows it. Otherwise he wouldn’t be trying so desperately to bring me to his cause. Nicholai has us backed into a corner. Checkmate. The game is over, but Nero refuses to accept it, because of what he stands to lose.

  And isn’t this the way this was always destined to go? Everything has come full circle and I’m right back where I started with him; me and Anna. Nero and I could no sooner run from this than we could fate itself because we orchestrated it. Every move we’ve played has brought us here. We fight, we kill, it’s inherently twisted into every fiber of our DNA, and this is the price we pay. Normality is a distant wish, a dream that we can’t quite grasp. I want to grasp it though, more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, but I won’t sacrifice people along the way. I won’t sacrifice Anna today only for Nicholai to play another hand and catch me tomorrow. No, this has to end. I’ll let Nero plot and plan. I’ll go along with it for his sake, but I have my own plan.

  “Come. We have to talk to them,” he says, taking my hand and leading me towards his office.

  Gio sits beside Rafael on one of the couches and once again, the blue prints are on the coffee table. Truthfully, I’m not sure Nicholai will even have Anna there. That’s his main base, but he has others, and of course, I know the layout of that base intimately. Logically, he would take her elsewhere, but then he told me to come to him. That is where I’d go, so maybe she is there.

  Nero moves to the corner of the room and pours out a glass of whiskey. He looks more worn than usual, with shadows lingering below his eyes. He swallows the whiskey in two gulps and turns his attention to the plans. I take a seat next to him, and his hand lands on my thigh possessively. They discuss everything, but I barely hear them. I know they’re flogging a dead horse. Nicholai managed to get to Anna when she was buried at the heart of the cartel, a place that we all thought was untouchable. Nowhere is untouchable to Nicholai though. She isn’t getting out of that base unless he willingly lets her walk out the gate. And the only way he’s doing that is if I walk in.

  Rafael gets up, swearing in Spanish as he stalks to the side of the room and slams his hand against the wall. I narrow my eyes at him. Nero leans into my side, whispering in my ear. “I think Rafael is in love with your sister.” Rafael and my sister. I clench my fists and one hand instinctively reaches for the blade strapped to my thigh, my fingers brushing over it. Another reason for me to hurt him, taking advantage of my abused and broken sister. Nero chuckles, covering the blade with his own hand. “Such a vicious butterfly.”

  I push to my feet, glaring at Rafael as I cross the room. Everyone tenses, expecting me to do something, but instead I simply brush past him, glaring as I leave the room. I check my watch. I have forty-five hours and nine minutes before I have to be in Russia. I walk straight to the armory, taking the key from my pocket and opening the door to the panic room that also houses all the weaponry. Checking the cameras, I see that Nero and the Mexicans are all still in the office. I grab a .40 Cal and a spare clip and shove both in the back of my jeans with my 9mm. Next, I open all the drawers, glancing over the various bullets until I see what I’m looking for. There are two tiny silver canisters tipped with needles. I t
ake them, shove them in the pocket of my hoody, and leave the room. As I step out of the dining room, I bump into Tommy. He startles and clutches at his chest.

  “Jesus, do you have to creep around in the dark?”

  “It’s just me,” I snort.

  He glares. “You do realize that actually makes it worse?”

  I roll my eyes. “You are such a pussy.”

  “No, I just have a self-preservation. You haven’t killed me yet, so…”

  “I haven’t killed you because I like you,” I tell him.

  “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “You should.” The smile slowly slips from my face as I stare at him. Tommy has this innocence about him, a side that’s managed to remain untainted by the darkness that surrounds him. I wind him up, but I hope he never loses it. I hope he always see’s the light in the dark, no matter the circumstance. “Never change, Tommy.”

  He frowns. “Are you okay?”

  I nod and walk away from him. I can’t dwell on the people here; on the life I have or could have had. Instead I go to bed, sliding one of the metal canisters beneath my pillow. I’m ready, organized. I have everything I need to do what must be done, and so, I lie here, my stomach churning horribly. By the time Nero finally comes to bed, my emotions are completely fraught and burnt out.

  He slips beneath the covers, and slides his hand around my waist. “Morte,” he whispers.

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you okay?”

  Not even a little bit. “Yeah.”

  “I have to ask because Rafael is still alive.” I can hear the amusement in his voice.

  “As soon as this is done, he’s fair game,” I growl. Mexican fuck. He not only loses my sister but he made a play for her.

  He laughs and brushes his lips over my neck. “I’ll even hold him down for you.”

  “I thought he was your friend.”

  “I don’t have friends, morte. I have pawns, and when they fail me, they lose favor.” God, I love how utterly heartless he is. I turn over and thread my fingers through his hair, pulling him to me. I slam my lips over his, needing to feel him, craving his strength and his brutality and everything that makes him so inherently feared by all who hear his name. I want my monster. His tongue brushes against mine and I moan into his mouth, raking my nails over his neck. I want him to make me forget everything for a moment, to allow me to immerse myself in him, drowning out the voices that are screaming inside my head.