Hitman's Bride (Bad Boy Empire)

by Vanessa Waltz

  “Fawn Haines wants her shit back! She wants her clothes, her DVDs, her books, and whatever the fuck else you took from her.”

  A man stumbles out of his room, running a broad hand over his eyes before he glares at Silas. “What is the matter with you? People are sleeping!”

  “Then they can wake the hell up and give me what I want.”

  His wife, wrapped in a throw blanket, gives us an owlish book. “Ben, what is he talking about?”

  He shrugs, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Go back to sleep.”

  “Silas! It’s her.” She stares openmouthed. “She’s one of the people who looted my apartment.”

  “Right.”

  “We can’t do anything about it!”

  Ignoring that, I drag her to the man and his annoyed wife. “You’re going to let us in your place, and Fawn’s going to take back everything that belongs to her.”

  By now a crowd has gathered around us, and I’m pleased to see that a few of them look ashamed of themselves.

  “Everything you took from my girlfriend’s apartment now belongs to me. I want that shit back, and I want it back now.”

  A few people scurry back to their apartments, but the asshole in front of me hasn’t budged.

  “Go fuck yourself.”

  He’s such a small guy that I practically swallow his face with my bare hand. Then I shove him backward and step around his shrieking wife to burst into his apartment. Fawn follows me into the warmth, laughter on her face.

  She gasps, pointing at a vase on an end table. “That’s mine!”

  “Well, go get it.”

  Fawn beams at me in a way that makes me think we might not have time to go on our date after all. She grabs the flowers in the vase and throws them on the floor, dumping out the water in a loud splash.

  Screaming hits my ears like a punch. Ben’s wife launches herself at Fawn, who clutches the vase to her chest.

  “It’s mine.”

  Ben’s wife tearfully points at Fawn. “She’s taking our things!”

  “Our things?” Fawn asks in a scandalized voice. “This is mine, bitch.”

  “What did you say to me?”

  “I called you a bitch. A thieving bitch.”

  Though I’m pretty keen to see Fawn beat the shit out of this girl, I step between them, wrapping an arm around Fawn’s waist. I try not to grin at their outrage.

  Ben approaches me with his hands curled into fists. “You can’t take that.”

  I push Fawn behind me. “You’re welcome to try and stop us.”

  The color drains from his face as I straighten myself. I’m a whole head taller than he is. His Adam’s apple bounces as his eyes slowly rake over my biceps and chest.

  Grabbing her arm, I flash a smirk at them both and lead her back into the hallway. Behind us, I hear his wife scream, “Are you just going to let him go?”

  “Look at the size of him! What the hell do you expect me to do?”

  The deserted hallway erupts with our laughter, and once we return to my apartment, there’s a small pile of things. Fawn lets go of my hand and drops down, rifling through the pile of clothes.

  “Wow,” she says, holding up a flat gray Kindle. “They actually brought it back.”

  “This isn’t everything.”

  “Honestly it’s more than I’d ever thought I’d see back.”

  I bend down, helping her carry everything back into our apartment. She sets the vase down on the kitchen counter, and then she piles the rest of her things over the coffee table. She turns her back to me, slowly pawing through the pile as I walk closer to her.

  “Are you okay?”

  She whirls around, her eyes shining with tears. Then she runs into my chest, her mouth pressed against my skin. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Open up, Silas!”

  I don’t even jump when I hear the voice outside my door, followed by a vicious pounding. My eyes roll in my head. I guess Ben finally plucked up the courage to fight back.

  My lips press against Fawn’s head, and then I walk toward the door.

  “You’ve been charged with the murder of Ryan Haines.”

  Fuck.

  A swift pain pierces through me as confusion flutters over Fawn’s face. “I’m sorry.”

  They swipe their keycard through, and I manage to yank my shirt over my head as the door bursts open.

  Fawn still looks confused. “The murder of— What the hell?”

  Three grim-faced syndicate men spill into my suite, and I raise a hand.

  “I’m here.”

  “Silas, you’ve been charged with Ryan Haines’s murder—”

  “What?”

  Inwardly I wince at the anger in her voice.

  “You’re to be escorted to the throne room immediately.”

  Where I’ll probably be executed.

  Fawn’s eyes stab at me. “Silas, what are they saying?”

  “They’re saying that I killed your dad.”

  She pleads with me, searching me for a shred of denial. She won’t find any. I’ll own up to it.

  “I’ll tell them that you were with me!”

  I hate the sound of my own voice.

  “Fawn, I killed him. I visited your room afterwards.”

  I’m prepared for the hatred, for the screaming curses hurled at me as they slap a pair of handcuffs over my wrists. Fuck, I want her to hate me at this point. But I can’t take that devastated wail and her eyes welling with tears. And worst of all is the sound she makes—a heartbroken sob that makes my chest cave in.

  * * *

  The syndicate men shove the small of my back as the elevator doors open, and my eyes wander down the red and gold hallway, opening to a huge, richly decorated throne room. There are paintings of what look like Chinese emperors on the wall. The gold-leaf trimmings on the crown molding are peeling, but it’s still an impressive space, and the Council members sit in a row behind a massive table on a dais. Behind them to the right, I see him. Viper.

  Two-faced bastard.

  I’m not going to give him the satisfaction. I’m not going to beg.

  My heartbeat pounds like a drum in my ears. They escort me in front of the Council, my eyes resting on that empty seat and feeling another sharp pang. A man decked out in blood-red robes stands next to me. A giant broadsword is clutched between his gloved hands, the point resting on the floor. The fucking executioner.

  “He confessed to the murder.”

  I yank my shoulder out of his grip and stare at one of them—an older man who looks like he has a foot in the grave.

  “Let him tell us.”

  Should I rat Viper out?

  “Yes, I killed that piece of shit. I slit his throat and let him bleed to death.”

  The room rings with my voice, which sounds darker and grittier than usual. One of the Council members sits back, sucking in breath, but the old bastard keeps eye-fucking me.

  “Why?”

  Because Viper gave me no choice.

  “Because he was a prick.” That much is true. “I wanted his daughter, and he wouldn’t give her to me.”

  Also true.

  “Fawn.”

  “Yes.”

  They convene for a moment, leaning together as they whisper closely. I watch as Viper slowly moves in the background, catching the eyes of several other guards near the Council. No one notices.

  There must be a hundred syndicate members gathered here, most of them standing behind my back. I can’t fight my way out even if I wanted to. It’s hopeless.

  Their whispers carry loudly in the room, but they’re indiscernible. Finally they nod to each other and the old bastard glares at me.

  “Very well, Silas. The Council sentences you to die for the murder of Ryan Haines. Se mortem provocatio.”

  “On your fucking knees.”

  The guard slams his fist into my shoulder and kicks at the back of my knees. I grit my teeth as they smash into the ground.

&nb
sp; “On behalf of the Council of the Black Dragons, I hereby sentence you to die.”

  The bite of steel kisses the back of my neck. What a funny thing. The closer I am to death, the faster my heart beats as if to frantically keep me alive.

  “Wait.”

  A cool voice calls out as I feel a rush of air, and I look up to see Viper standing in front of me.

  “A new member should be voted in.”

  One of the Council members, an Asian man with a smooth face, glares at Viper from behind the desk. “Do you object to his execution?”

  “No, I object to the fact that his fate was decided without a sixth Council member.”

  “The Council will reveal the sixth member forthcoming. Until then, stand aside.”

  A scowl twists Amos’s face. “You have no right to interrupt the proceedings of justice.”

  Viper raises his hands, his face creasing with a smile. “You told me that I would be sworn in as Council member.” He speaks in a low voice, but it carries easily in the throne room.

  “Council member Lee informed us about his endorsement of you. We voted against you.”

  Fucking hell.

  My heart rate is jacked as I watch five men who I recognize as members of Viper’s Powell Street Crew inch toward the Council members’ seats.

  Viper keeps his eyes trained on Lee. “And what were your reasons?”

  “This is neither the time or the place—”

  “No. He needs to know.” The venerable man addresses him. “Your unbridled arrogance, for one. You have never shown the syndicate the proper amount of respect, and what’s more, you continue to defy the members of this Council.”

  “You’ll be a fine Dragon, but you’ll never become a Council member.”

  His powerful voice rings in the throne room, until it sounds like a mocking singsong.

  Viper’s face blanches as the voices keep ringing in the room. I curl my fingers into fists and dig my nails in as I watch the humiliation work its way into Viper’s body like a poisonous shot.

  “You stupid old fools.”

  The old bastard makes a sound of outrage before the man who crept up behind him suddenly yanks back his head, a knife at his throat.

  “PUT YOUR WEAPON DOWN!”

  Lee stands up halfway, but another one of Viper’s people wraps an arm around his neck and slams him into his chest. The crowd lets out a volley of yells as the attacker holds a knife right under Lee’s neck. It happens very quickly in a storm of shouts. Within seconds—without even a scuffle—all Council members are at Viper’s mercy.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  A smirk tugs at Viper’s mouth as he leans over the desk, laughing at the old man’s attempts to throw off the arm locked around his throat.

  “You’re right. I’ll never become a member of the Council. I’ll be emperor instead.”

  “Stop this madness! You can’t—”

  His voice gives out into a garbled shout as the knife slides across his neck, opening his throat. Blood sprays across the table as the other four men do the same. The guard next to me charges Viper, who slides a knife from his belt. A sickening sound like a melon being split open hits my gut as Viper stabs the guard’s eye. He yanks it out, crimson dripping from the blade.

  It’s pandemonium.

  The Council members’ bodies crash to the marble floor as their blood runs over the oak table. Five vacant faces stare at the ceiling, their throats sluggishly oozing blood. It drips down the dais and pools around my knees.

  “Listen! You can fight me and die, or you can join us in this new era.” Viper’s voice, or maybe the fact that the leadership of the syndicate was just eviscerated, stops every member in their tracks. “From this moment forward, my power is the only power.”

  A single voice rings out. “Fuck you!”

  “Kill him. Kill anyone who resists.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  His thugs run down the dais as the throne room erupts into chaos again. Someone shuts the doors, closing off escape for those opposing Viper’s leadership. It’s a slaughter. Viper must have bribed the guards to let weapons inside. Fuck, he had all of them in his pocket.

  Including me. I played right into his hands.

  He seems to notice me then, still kneeling in a pool of blood that isn’t mine. Viper flashes a grin at me, and I tense at the knife in his hand. He bends down, stealing the keys from the dead guard’s pocket as screams of dying men ring out in the throne room. My hands twitch as I feel him unlock the handcuffs from my wrist.

  I stand up with him and gaze out into the sea of paralyzed men in blood-spattered suits.

  “No! No, please!”

  A young man is forced to his knees by Viper’s men, and it’s not until then that I notice his supporters wearing a small red dragon pinned to their lapels. Something to identify them in the slaughter.

  “Who is this?”

  “He’s the son of Council member Lee.”

  “Ah.”

  “That doesn’t mean I deserve to die!” he screams as one of them buries a gun in the back of his head.

  “Perhaps, but I can’t take a chance.”

  A deafening shot rings through the throne room as the guard fires the gun. Blood and dark chunks explode from the young man’s head as he falls to the marble floor, his blood mingling with the rest of the members’.

  “We kill anyone associated with the old crowd. Understand? The syndicate must be purged.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Viper turns around, facing me as waves and waves of shock obliterate every other feeling. He didn’t just want to kill a man. He cut the head off the Black Dragons. The most powerful gang—and he slaughtered them like sheep.

  “Death before defiance.” He gives me a smile as if we’re sharing a private joke. “Stupid fucking slogan.”

  He can’t possibly think he can get away with this.

  “I wanted to thank you for your part, old friend. I’m glad that you proved yourself to be trustworthy.”

  My slacks are covered in blood. Did I do this? Viper smiles at me, and once again I find it hard to connect the charming, boyish face to the mass slaughter—to the girl on the beach. He’s mastered every human emotion. He can mimic them to perfection, but I don’t think he feels anything right now but carefully controlled rage.

  Then he reaches forward and grasps my shoulder in what I’m sure he thinks is a comforting gesture. “You did well, Silas. And I want to give you a gift.”

  Die. That’ll be the greatest gift you could ever give me.

  I stare at him. “What?”

  “That girl—what was her name? Fawn.”

  My insides twist. “What about her?”

  “I’ll allow you two to marry.”

  The room is quiet. There’s only the sound of blood still dripping from the dais. Pat-pat.

  If the man is anything like the boy I knew, he’ll take offense if I say no.

  “I can see from the look on your face that you’re not thrilled by my gift.”

  “All due respect,” I say with contempt in my voice. “But I’m not the marrying type.”

  “It would set a good example if one of my captains married the daughter of a board member.”

  Fucking piece of shit—I’m not working for you.

  “I’m getting rid of anyone associated with the old guard. That means wives, children, and other family members. Would you let her die?”

  My throat closes as I imagine them storming in my room and carving a red smile into her neck.

  “No, I won’t.”

  Pepper’s face burns in my mind as he leans in, grinning from ear to ear. I’m sure he’s remembering her, too.

  “Same old Roach.”

  Then he laughs, punching my shoulder affectionately as numbness spreads through my body.

  I have to marry her.

  He’ll kill her if I don’t.

  FAWN

  The crowd pushes against my back as we wait outside the close
d doors of the throne room. Tears slide down my face and down my lips. I taste the saltiness and for a moment I remember the way he tasted after fucking me, the salt on his skin. I think of his dark, thick hair and the faint lines around his eyes and the freckles on his nose. The promise of a better life seemed so close because I had Silas. He made me want him so badly, and he killed my father.

  Why am I crying?

  I place my hand over the wood paneling. My ears strain against the noise, but I can’t hear a thing. I can only imagine what’s happening. He’s prostrate on his knees, helpless. The executioner’s blade (I have no idea what they actually use) kisses the back of his neck. Silas’s head bends forward as the blade whistles through the air.

  My stomach turns as I imagine his head swiped clean from his shoulders, blood spilling from the stump like a fountain.

  Good riddance, I try to tell myself. He used you.

  He deserves it, but I’m still sickened.

  Restless energy moves through the crowd in waves as the guards remind them to keep back. Then several shouts ring out from inside the throne room. They’re loud enough for us to hear outside.

  They did it. They actually did it.

  My stomach clenches, and I decide that I can’t bear to see Silas’s body paraded out of here. My eyes burn unexpectedly as Silas’s death collides into me. I feel nothing but a gaping emptiness. Dad’s gone and somehow bringing his murderer to justice feels just as awful. I turn my back on the door and elbow my way out of the crowd, my heart sinking with every step I take back to my new quarters.

  Then a heavy body slams into the door, making it rattle violently. The guards posted on either side give each other looks.

  “What’s going on?”

  The shouting within the throne room rises in a crescendo, and more bodies slam against the wall.

  “What the hell is going on in there?”

  “Should we check?”

  “I don’t know.”

  It sounds like they’re fighting in there. What the hell?

  Despite myself, I walk back to the doors, which shudder fiercely. Then they burst open and a view of the magnificent throne room flashes in my eyes until a young man covered in blood stumbles out.

  “Dead! They’re all dead!”