Hitman's Bride (Bad Boy Empire)

by Vanessa Waltz

  “What the fuck happened?”

  Marble floors sprawl to a giant table that normally holds the members of the Council. I see them slumped over the table, as though they were sleeping. The doors groan as they shut again, pulled from the inside.

  “Barricade it! Don’t let anyone else out.”

  A muffled voice gives orders from inside the room. The guards grasp the boy’s shoulders, but he keeps screaming nonsense.

  “Dead! They’re dead!”

  “Who’s dead, goddamn it?”

  “The Council!”

  What?

  Then a wild thought bursts into my head—that the bodies slumped over on the table weren’t sleeping. They were dead.

  No, it can’t be. That would be ridiculous.

  “I don’t understand,” a nervous woman asks the guards. “I thought this was a hearing for the murderer—”

  The young man runs off as the doors buckle again. The guards seize the handles and pull, but they don’t give. “It’s blocked.”

  My heart leaps in my chest like a bird’s wings beating against a cage. No one’s usurped the syndicate in decades.

  The muffled yells rise into screams of pain, and I take a step back as the sound hits me. Several other women scream, running away from the door.

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  The guard kicks the door in frustration, and then suddenly it blows open, smashing into his body. Men in suits spattered with blood pour out of the room. At the head of the group is that same guy who took me to see the Council when Dad died. Venom? No, Viper. He’s the one who callously dropped me at the whorehouse.

  He doesn’t look the same. Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s carrying himself differently. His eyes scan the scene of chaos with a look of supreme indifference.

  Mrs. Lee, the wife of one of the members, plucks at his sleeve. “What happened to my husband? The young man said—”

  Viper twists his arm, burying something in her petite chest.

  BAM!

  The sound is deafening, and I don’t hear the scream tearing from my throat. Mrs. Lee lets out a choked gasp as she is blown backward, an angry red hole in the middle of her chest.

  He shot her.

  Viper averts his eyes from the dying women as her cries roll down his shoulders. My mouth is open in a silent scream as I watch blood stain her clothes.

  “Kill their families first,” he tells the others as the crowd scatters.

  “What about children?”

  “Separate them from their parents.”

  I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. All I know is that I can’t just sit here and let Mrs. Lee bleed out. My knees shake as I stand up and run toward her.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

  A ruthless hand snatches my arm before I can get within two feet of Mrs. Lee. His cold, clammy touch sends an icy current through my veins.

  “Please, I need to help her.”

  Viper’s pitiless eyes graze over Mrs. Lee’s body. “There’s no help for her.”

  One of his lackeys looks at me. “Sir, this is Fawn Haines, daughter of Ryan Haines.”

  “I know who she is.”

  “Let me kill the bitch.”

  His fingers bite into my arm as I yank away.

  “No. She belongs to Silas.” His tone almost sounds regretful as his other hand lifts to gently wrap around my throat. My heartbeat jumps into his fingers as he clenches ever so slightly. Viper takes shallow breaths as his pupils dilate.

  At Viper’s feet, Mrs. Lee makes even higher gasps, her almond-shaped eyes rolling in their sockets.

  “Please let me help her!”

  “I should’ve been the one to fuck you next to your father’s corpse.”

  Let go of me, you fucking psycho.

  He flexes his fingers around my throat and then slides them down my neck, tearing his gaze away.

  “Go to Silas’s suite and stay there. Or stay out here and die.”

  I gasp for breath as his hand drops from my neck.

  “Let’s go.”

  They sweep past me, joining the pandemonium that spreads through the second floor. I hear distant screams, some of which sound like the wailing of children.

  I collapse to my knees, bending over the rapidly fading Mrs. Lee. God, there’s blood everywhere. It completely soaked through her gray dress. And her hands are ice cold. I look around for something to stanch the bleeding. Men run past me as I scream for help, and then I search for a pulse in Mrs. Lee’s wizened neck.

  She’s already gone. Her cheeks are still wet with tears, and her eyes still stare at the ceiling, glassy and unmoving.

  “Oh my God!’

  I can’t take it in. My knees are bright red with her blood and my hands are soaked. The door to the throne room bounces ajar, and I catch a glimpse of carnage.

  My hands smear blood along the walls as I run away from it. I know this place intimately, like I know my own body, but I haven’t got a clue where I’m running, or where this hallway leads.

  I collide with another body and my scream mingles with his roar of outrage. We tumble to the floor and the carpet scrapes my hands, giving them a vicious burn.

  “Stupid fucking whore!”

  With a horrifying jolt, I realize he’s one of the men who looked after my father.

  “You.”

  I stumble on my heels and twist my ankle, screaming in pain as I fall down. Cruel laughter fills the hall as he yanks me up by my hair and buries a gun under my neck. His other hand gropes up my dress, up my ribs until he grabs my breast. I gasp at the violation as he breathes into my neck.

  “You have no idea how long I fantasized about these tits.”

  “Please stop!”

  “Fuck,” he hisses in my ear. “I’ll get some other slut for later tonight. Viper wants you dead.”

  I elbow his face, and then he takes my neck and slams my back into the wall. The air leaves my chest as he squeezes, robbing me of air with one hand.

  “Get the fuck off her!”

  I see the profile of a man with harsh features, and then my would-be murderer’s hands fly from my throat. I collapse to the floor, gasping as I watch a man with coppery-black hair hurl his fist against my attacker’s body. He doubles over, gagging as he takes several punches to his gut. The attacker swings, missing wildly, and my savior launches a vicious kick that makes a loud crack. A piercing scream hits my ears right before Silas wrestles the gun from his hands and aims at his head. I try to look away, but I’m too slow.

  The gun blasts and the man’s head explodes like a melon—chunks of brain flying everywhere before his body hits the floor. A scream finally tears from my throat, and then suddenly Silas’s palm smothers the sound as he covers my mouth.

  “Shut the fuck up before you alert the whole floor.”

  I don’t understand—I thought he was dead. He spins me in his arms and hoists me over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. He carries me as I hang upside down, my brain swelling with blood as chaos erupts around us.

  “Fuck, elevators aren’t working.”

  He opens a door and I glimpse stairs. Then suddenly the world tilts and he sets me on my feet. “Can you walk? We have to take the stairs.”

  I put some weight on my ankle and the stairwell echoes with my cry of pain. I lost my shoes somehow.

  “All right. That’s fine. I can carry you.”

  He doesn’t wait for a response—I’m hoisted into the air again and thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He lurches up the stairs. I’m amazed by how fast we’re climbing, how his breathing hardly seems to labor.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Back to my room.”

  “Let me down!” I don’t want to go anywhere with him.

  “Can’t do that.”

  I pound his back as fury explodes inside me, but nothing seems to slow him down. We erupt out of the fire escape, my yells echoing down the relatively quiet floor, and then
there’s a burst of cool air. Silas shuts the door and locks it. Then I’m lowered to the ground again.

  “Careful—”

  The moment I’m in command of my body, I rip my fist across Silas’s face. His head whips to the side as my knuckles smash against his jaw. It stings my hand, but he hardly looks fazed. He turns back toward me. A red mark rises on his cheek, mingling with the shadow of his stubble.

  “Fawn—”

  My knuckles slam against his cheek a second time. I want to destroy his perfect face, to shake that look of detached calm on his face, to make him feel a tiny bit of the horror I feel inside me. He doesn’t make a sound, but he grabs his jaw and squeezes it.

  “How could you?”

  The hurt trembling my voice echoes in the suite, where it’s so quiet. I can’t hear anything except the sound of the air blowing through the vents and my own ragged breaths. No gunfire. No screaming. Nothing.

  “It was easy. I do this for a living, Fawn.”

  I swallow my outrage for a moment—what did I expect? I knew who he was the moment I met him. There was never any hint of danger from him, apart from the warning looks he gave me over the dinner table when I’d grab his leg. I just didn’t think he would do it to me.

  “How the hell could you kill my dad and then sleep with me? Was I some sort of sick game to you?”

  “No.”

  “Did you fuck me just so you could rub it in my face that you killed my father?”

  I think that I can see a flicker of emotion on his face before Silas grabs my shoulders, his fingers biting into me.

  “You make me sick. Get off!”

  “Fawn, listen to me. I’m not a sadist.”

  “You murder people for a living.”

  “That doesn’t mean I enjoy it. I came to you because I wanted you.”

  I stop struggling for a moment because it’s useless against a man like him. “Then why?”

  “Because your father was a prick. He backed me into a corner and I had no choice.”

  “So you’re the one who started all this insanity. It’s your fault all of these people are going to die!”

  For the first time, his grip on my shoulders stings.

  A shadow crosses his eyes and he bares his teeth, nearly spitting his words. “I had no idea what Viper was planning.”

  “Bullshit!”

  He releases me when I let out a yelp of pain and then he steps back, running his hands through his hair. I’ve never seen him look so agitated.

  “The whole thing with your dad was just to keep me trapped here. He was going to decapitate the leadership of the Dragons, anyway.”

  “Why the hell would he want you?”

  Silas gives me a look. “We have a history.”

  I don’t care. I’ve heard enough of this. I need to get down to the infirmary and find some way to help—God, all the people who are going to die.

  Silas’s body moves in front of mine the moment I take a step toward the door.

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  The balls on this guy.

  I feel fire blazing beneath my skin, and I’m surprised that he doesn’t scream when I shove his chest. “I’m not staying in the same room as my father’s murderer!”

  “I’m not letting you leave.”

  “Why?”

  “They’ll kill you the moment you step out that door. You’ve seen what’s happened to the syndicate.”

  Mrs. Lee’s tortured face flashes through my mind.

  “I’m not sure what I’ve seen.”

  He takes an angry step forward. “They’re butchering anyone connected with the old guard. It’s Viper’s way of cleaning house.”

  “I’ll take my fucking chances. Now get out of my way.”

  “No.”

  He grabs my wrist as I lunge toward the door, and then he pushes me backward and I take a step on my injured ankle. Silas’s face creases with concern as a sharp pain stabs my muscles.

  “You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep fighting me. I’m not letting you out of this room, Fawn.”

  Either stay with the man who killed your dad, or leave and get killed by Viper’s crew.

  Some fucking choice.

  I slump into the kitchen chair, burying my face in my hands as I hear Silas pull away to rummage through his freezer. After a moment he returns and pulls out a chair. Then I feel his fingers on my ankle, so gentle, and then a block of ice touches my skin and I flinch. He wraps a frozen bag of peas around my ankle, which rests on his lap. There’s a pulsing vein on his forehead, and a bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  His fingers slide up my calf, and haunted eyes gaze back at me. “We made a deal.”

  “Fuck you and your deal. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

  “You won’t make it ten feet from this room without me, sweetheart. If you want to live, you’ll be my woman.”

  My insides seethe because I know he’s right. I know I won’t make it out alive without him, and I know, deep down, that my father was a rotten son of a bitch. Silas still ruined my life when he killed him and doesn’t seem to give a shit about that.

  Neither of us can do anything but stare at the door after that, as though waiting for news.

  “What do you think is happening out there?”

  He shakes his head. “It’s going to be a bloodbath.”

  Images of bodies lying still, surrounded by pools of blood and dismembered limbs, slide through my head.

  “All my friends—everyone I’ve ever known is out there.”

  “If they’re smart, they’ll swear fealty to Viper and keep their mouths shut.”

  “Fealty? What is this guy—a lord?”

  Silas makes a sound through his nose and a very bitter look sours his face. “He probably thinks of himself as one.”

  I try to piece it all together—the Powell Street Crew and its charming leader—the man with dazzling, boyish good looks. When exactly—how did he get so many supporters? I don’t believe it. There must have been some kind of mistake, or this is all a very violent dream.

  “Go to sleep. I’ll stay up.”

  Hours pass, and my eyelids start to droop. I rest my head over my crossed arms.

  I’ll just rest. For a bit.

  Then I feel something soft caressing my bare shoulders. A blanket. Silas’s hands pull it over me, and then he kisses the back of my head.

  * * *

  I feel his eyes on me the moment mine open. Silas sits near the door, away from the windows bathing the suite in sunlight. His back is flat against the wall, head slightly bent so that I can’t see his face, but there’s a gun in his hand. It hangs haphazardly in his fingers. His crimson shirt is rolled up to his elbows, his tie discarded on the floor.

  It takes me a few minutes to remember why I feel sick to my stomach, and then I remember Mrs. Lee’s bloodless face and Silas’s confession:

  I killed him.

  The bitterness in my mouth makes my lip curl, and I stand up, blinking against the dazzling sunlight. I’m still wearing one of the shirts I stole from his dresser. His scent surrounds me, clinging to my skin, and I want to rip it off my chest.

  I pad across the kitchen floor, my feet barely making a sound. My hands ball into fists as I approach his still body. My ankle smarts as soon as I put pressure on it, but I grit my teeth and ignore the pain. I’ll get away from him and then I’ll find out what’s really going on. I step over the hand with the gun and still my breaths, willing myself not to make a sound.

  Rough fingers gouge into my exposed thigh as Silas clutches my leg with his free hand. His head raises, eyes slightly red with sleeplessness. His shirt is unbuttoned, revealing a length of mouthwatering, sinewy muscle, and an unexpected sliver of warmth makes its way into my heart as he strokes my leg and anchors securely on my upper thigh.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Anger rustles in my chest. “I’m getting the he
ll away from you.”

  His greedy eyes slide up my legs as his hand grazes over my skin. Warmth explodes in the pit of my stomach, feeding me as his fingertips find the edge of my panties and slip underneath them to graze my ass.

  No.

  I grab his hand and throw it away from me, and then he seizes the hem of my shirt.

  “Fuck!”

  My foot screams in pain as I step back, and my knees buckle. Silas’s arms wrap around my body as I fall, and suddenly I’m cradled in his lap. My chest hammers with my heartbeat as his face comes within inches of mine. There are faint lines of sleeplessness under his eyes, but he still has the gun. I can feel it lodged under my legs as he holds me close. For a brief second I forget that he’s a monster who stole my life. I’m a half-naked woman in the arms of a man whose greedy eyes make me shiver with pleasure and fear. My arms flatten against his chest as he grabs the hem of my shirt—his shirt—and pulls up to expose my blue panties.

  “That’s a sexy look for you. I’m sure the men out there would appreciate the view.”

  My voice hardens. “I’m leaving.”

  “I’d like to see you try.”

  “Jesus Christ, you can’t keep me here forever!”

  He laughs, a deep sound that shakes my body. “Yeah, I’ve got my work cut out for me. I can’t possibly keep you under control.”

  His hands tighten around me, and then my body lurches into the air.

  “Put me down, damn it!”

  “This is going to get real old if you keep screaming the same thing—”

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I snap, tired of his cavalier attitude. “Do you know how many people are dead because of that lunatic?”

  The springs on the mattress bounce as he drops me on the bed, and my chest tightens when Silas’s finely shaped eyebrows knit together. He rips off his shirt with more force than necessary and hurls it on the floor.

  “I’m tired,” he growls. “I’ve been up all night watching the door.”

  I slide my legs over the edge of the bed. He’s fucking insane if he thinks I’m going to slip into bed with him.

  “I’m going out.”

  He catches my arm before I can take two steps and hurls me backward. The bed catches my knees and suddenly his snarling face is against mine, and his fingers twist in my hair. Pain erupts from where his knee digs into my hip.