Vegas Boss: A Mafia Hitman Romance

by Alexis Abbott

  She nods.

  “Yes. For months, I followed him from one rock bottom to the next, and just when I thought I couldn’t sink any lower, I got this job here. I’m the house mother. At first, I was so embarrassed and ashamed to have fallen so far. But over time, I learned to love the work, to love my girls. It’s selfish to say, but I think part of why I warmed to the job so much was that I just missed you and Samantha so much. I used my girls here as surrogates for you two. And after a year, I had finally saved up enough money to support myself. I kicked Darrell to the curb and I’ve been on my own ever since.”

  “Wow,” I breathe, taking a few steps closer, still hugging my sheet to my chest. It’s not really appropriate attire for a heart to heart, but she did bust in... unexpected. “You really did all that? You got rid of Darrell? Mom, I’m… I’m proud of you.”

  She smiles faintly, tears still misted over her eyes.

  “It may not seem like much to most people, but I’m finally starting to learn how to stand on my own two feet. Without Darrell. Without your father. I’m no longer ashamed of my work here. I protect these girls. I love them like my own. The only thing missing from my life are my real daughters. That’s why it’s so wonderful to see your face again, Nicole. I can’t tell you how badly I’ve missed you. I don’t care what circumstances led you here. I’m just happy to have you standing in front of me again.”

  I can’t stand it anymore. I rush forward and throw my arms around her, crying softly as she hugs me tight. Misha just stands back and lets the moment unfold.

  I push back for a moment and ask, “But Mom, if you’ve been okay for so long, why didn’t you reach out? Why didn’t you track me down?”

  “Oh, sweetheart. I was so embarrassed of how far I’ve fallen. Embarrassed of how rotten Darrell turned out to be. I really believed that you and Sam were better off without me dragging you down. And maybe I was right. I mean, look at you! Officer Burns! You did that all on your own. You never needed me,” she explains tearfully.

  “No, Mom. I do need you. I can survive on my own, but I still need my mother,” I assure her, giving her another hug.

  “Well,” she sighs, beaming at the two of us, “I’ll leave you to get properly dressed. Come downstairs when you’re ready. And don’t you sneak out. I’ve just got you back and I am not about to lose you again, Nicole.”

  “I promise we won’t sneak out,” I tell her, smiling.

  She taps me on the nose, a look of intense affection in her eyes. She turns and leaves the room. Misha gives me a look of utter shock and I just wordlessly shrug. There are no words to sum up how bizarre this situation is, but Misha doesn’t press me any further. We quickly get dressed and head back downstairs, where my mom is waiting with a beer for each of us. She pats the bar stool next to her and I sit down, taking a much-needed sip of beer.

  “So, Mom, I hate to ask this, but why did you come barging into the room earlier? With a gun, no less?” I ask. She sighs.

  “Well, I got word that there was an assault going on up there. One of our girls was in trouble, or so I heard. I was out getting supplies when I got the news. So I raced here to stop the assault,” she admits, taking a long sip.

  “Whoa. So you were literally about to shoot a guy for hurting one of your girls?” I ask.

  She nods firmly.

  “Yes. Absolutely. Without question. Or at least fire a warning shot to make him crap his pants and get his filthy hands off my girl.”

  “Damn, Mom. That’s intense,” I remark, a little impressed.

  “That’s the role of the house mother. I look after my little chickadees, whatever that may entail. I’m not afraid to show some muscle if it means my girls stay safe,” Mom explains.

  “Who told you there was an assault taking place?” pipes up Misha.

  “Oh,” she says, “I got a phone call.”

  I look at Misha, wide-eyed.

  His face is grim and his voice is dangerous. “We’re being watched.”

  Misha

  “We have to go,” I say simply as I watch the thoughts roll through Nicole’s mind.

  “Right,” she agrees, snapping herself out of her trance. She looks up to her mom and gives a smile full of mixed emotions. “So…”

  Her mom steps in and wraps her arms around Nicole, to her surprise, but Nicole quickly softens and smiles as she returns the gesture. I glance away to let the two have a moment, pretending to be interested in one of the big paintings on the wall.

  “You stay safe, Nicole,” she says in a quiet tone. “I don’t want to lose you again, do you hear me? I know I can’t really ask that kind of thing of you, but…”

  “I get it, Mom,” she says back. “Thanks. I will.”

  “I want to be in touch after all this,” she gestures between me and Nicole, “gets settled, okay?”

  Nicole opens her mouth to protest about whatever her mom thinks this is, but after a moment of silence, she just smiles and nods. “Alright, Mom. That sounds good.” She turns to me, and I raise a single eyebrow at her. “Ready to go?”

  “I’m driving,” I say after a nod.

  “He sounds fun,” Nicole’s mom says, and Nicole turns away from her as quickly as possible to make a brisk beeline to the door with a horrified look on her face. Her mother flashes me a smile, and I hold back a chuckle as I follow Nicole out the door.

  Even as I step out into the Nevada desert sun and squint while Nicole makes her way to the car, though, I can’t help but feel like I’m looking at a very different woman than either the stripper named Misty or the cop who arrested me.

  “Keys,” I call to her as we move to the doors, and I catch them after she tosses them to me.

  “Hoping to show me up after I saved our asses on the way here?” she asks with a challenging undertone, but I just chuckle as we get into the car.

  “Oh no, officer, I just watched you have a teary-eyed and heart-wrenching reunion with your mother. You don’t get to act like a badass for at least twenty-four hours.”

  “Oh so there’s rules on it, now?” she retorts, crossing her arms, and I smirk as I pull out onto the road.

  I try to keep reminding me that this woman betrayed me, but even as I do, I think back to the look on her face when she was telling me my rights at the arrest. It’s was the same hurt, vulnerable woman I saw a few minutes ago being reunited with her mother, and it’s the same one who’s trying to put on a tough face in the passenger’s seat right now.

  This cop is proving to be a lot more than meets the eye, and for the first time in a long time, I’m not sure what to make of the feelings running through my head. I know I can’t get her out of my mind, but I assumed it was just her body and the tension between us that was driving me wild. The more I look at her, though, the more I find myself wanting to get to know more about her.

  Realizing that worries me.

  “What?” she asks suddenly, snapping me out of my trance. I glance over at her. “You had a glazed look on your face.”

  “Oh, nothing,” I lie. I need to keep this feeling in check. To say it would never work between the two of us would be an understatement.

  She frowns and opens her mouth to ask more as I pull out onto the highway, but her phone lights up as she gets a call. She gives the number a worried look.

  “Shit,” she mutters. “It’s the head of my unit.”

  “Sounds friendly,” I joke.

  “Keep quiet,” she asks me, and I give a curt nod before she opens the phone.

  “This is Nicole,” she says. I can hear muffled chattering through the line, and I glance over every now and then to see Nicole’s face wince.

  “Sounds like you’re on top of things,” she says in a guarded tone. “But I did everything I could on the stand, and you know it. That evidence was gone, and you can check the security tapes to prove that I wasn’t anywhere near it the night before the hearing.”

  Her face slowly melts from frustration to wide eyes and shock, but her tone stays even.
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  “I see. Well then, let’s pull the tapes and-”

  The voice from the other end of the line gets more agitated, and I watch Nicole’s face go pale. She clenches her fist for a moment before pinching the bridge of her nose. “Sir, I need more time. I was the arresting officer. Without me, at this stage in the investigation the-”

  She clenches her jaw as her superior interrupts her again, and her glare could kill a man.

  Finally, she gives a terse reply.

  “I understand, sir,” she says. “No, sir.” She hangs up the call and holds herself back from hurling the phone out the window.

  “Sounds like it went well.”

  “I’m suspended,” she snaps, and I raise my eyebrows in genuine surprise.

  “What? Why?”

  “Not the reasons he gave, that’s for damn sure,” she says. “But I think this gives us a lead. He’s accusing me of throwing my testimony on purpose, like you thought I did.”

  “I must admit, that’s what it looked like to an outsider’s perspective,” I say. “My attorney was counting her blessings after that hearing.”

  “Yeah, but there’s no way he didn’t know that evidence really was missing,” she says, leaning forward and furrowing her brow. “When things like this happen, suspending the investigating officer usually isn’t the first step someone takes.”

  “Smells rotten to me,” I say, and she nods.

  “Me too. The way he was talking, I think he was mocking me,” she adds with a frustrated sigh. “Bastard probably knows I know the truth and is just holding it over my head. He had something to do with all this. He’s throwing me under the bus so fast it’s got to be to keep attention off whatever’s really going on.”

  I am silent for a few moments, nothing but the noise of the engine and the wheels on the asphalt to soften the silence in the car.

  “I just can’t fucking believe this,” she says, glaring out the window. “After everything I do for that department, this is how they thank me. Letting me be some throwaway pawn in whatever it is they’re up to.”

  “They always target the strongest enemy, when power is shifting around,” I say in a calming tone, and she raises an eyebrow at me. “You should take it as something of a compliment. They’re afraid of you, so they don’t want you around. You took down Misha Chaykovsky, after all,” I add with a smirk.

  That teases the shadow of a smile to her lips, but she looks away from me.

  “Well, at least I’ve got all the time in the world to think it over,” she says ruefully. “Where are we going, anyway?”

  “Back to the club,” I say. “In Vegas. I have a contact there who owes me a favor, and I think this is just the time to call that favor in.”

  “Let me guess,” she says with the faintest groan, “another battle-hardened Russian killing machine standing at just under seven feet tall and able to break a neck without increasing his heart rate?”

  “Something like that,” I say with a smile.

  The look on Nicole’s face a few hours later when I point to the stripper in the club’s dressing room is priceless.

  “You’re kidding,” she says flatly as Tatiana turns and looks at us in surprise.

  “Misha!” she calls, a smile spreading across her face as she gets up and comes over to us. “Good god, I thought you were still…?”

  “Not as of today,” I say with a calm, confident smile. “Good to see you again, Tatiana.”

  The woman standing in front of us is barely over five feet tall, and couldn’t look further from the image Nicole was imagining in the car.

  “You two know each other?” Nicole asks us, a single eyebrow raised in surprise.

  “Yes,” I say. “Just over business matters, nothing special.”

  “By ‘nothing special’, he means I owe him my life,” Tatiana says to Nicole. “Let’s just say that if Misha here hadn’t been so willing to help me, I’d be back in Russia a lot worse off than I am now. I’m in a bit of trouble back home, so I don’t plan on going back anytime soon.” Her tone is lighthearted despite how severe the reality is.

  She’s wanted for treason back in Moscow, and the strings I pulled are the only reason she hasn’t been deported yet.

  “I wanted to drop by with this new friend of mine first thing,” I say, nodding to Nicole while looking at Tatiana. We’re alone in the dressing room, but we won’t be for long. “And you can relax, Tatiana, Nicole is working with us, for the time being. Let’s go to the VIP lounge, shall we?”

  Once we have our privacy, sitting on the black velvet sofas of the luxurious room with its gleaming blue chandelier hanging overhead, I pace around the room slowly while Nicole and Tatiana take seats across from each other.

  Tatiana is a new hire at my club, but I know exactly what kind of person I’m dealing with. She’s sharp and attentive, and she has a knack for getting out of danger. There’s nobody else in the club I can trust and rely on as much as her right now.

  “So, tell me,” I start. “What have the vultures been whispering since I got put away?”

  “You know I don’t like to listen in where I’m not welcome,” Tatiana lies coyly, and I crack a smile, but Nicole’s eyes are unreadable as they move between the two of us. “But since you asked, it hasn’t exactly been hard to pick up on a few things from the dressing room.”

  I stand behind Nicole’s couch, putting my hands on the back of it to watch Tatiana expectantly.

  “Getting put behind bars wasn’t good for your public image around here,” she says, crossing her legs and putting her arms back over the couch. “That much is for sure.”

  “Do people really think someone like Misha would talk to the police,” Nicole says in disbelief, half-laughing, but I shake my head down at her.

  “It doesn’t matter what kind of man I am,” I say. “Going to jail means I’m a hidden element. The bratva doesn’t like when it can’t see what’s going on. Being out of the game like that for any amount of time means I could talk to the police, and that alone puts a target on my back.”

  Nicole’s face reddens a bit. I know she feels guilty by now over what she did. I’m surprised by my impulse to put a hand on her shoulder and reassure her, but I hold it back. Now is the time for business.

  “So, people are whispering about me already?” I ask Tatiana, and she nods.

  “We had some heat on us right after you were arrested. Couple of raids on other clubs, but they didn’t turn up anything serious. I don’t think the cops were looking for anything — just trying to show the bratva that they’re watching. It’s made everyone anxious.” Tatiana’s eyes flit to Nicole for a moment. “Your friend here hasn’t helped, I’m afraid.”

  Nicole shifts in her seat. “How so?”

  “People say Misha is thinking with the wrong head,” Tatiana admits reluctantly, gesturing between her legs, and I roll my eyes. “They’d never say it to his face, of course, but having your sister kidnapped makes it look like the two of you are closer than many of the ambitious bratva soldiers are comfortable with. I’m surprised you’re even here, honestly.”

  “She’s here because I didn’t order her sister taken,” I say, and Tatiana’s eyes widen. “I was informed of it, but I never gave word, implicitly or otherwise.”

  “Now that is interesting,” Tatiana says, leaning forward. “Because that’s not what’s going around the rumor mill. The way people are talking, it sounds like the two of you are just dropping everything for some romantic lover’s adventure, fights and all.”

  “Someone’s making it look like we’re burning all our bridges left and right,” Nicole says, realization coming over her face.”

  “So when they make a move and kill the two of us,” I say casually, “there will be no repercussions on either side. We’ll just be a couple of loose ends someone buries out in the desert and does both the LVPD and my mafia a favor while they rake in all the winnings.”

  “Christ,” Nicole says. “I’ve been setting these mousetraps my wh
ole career. So this is what it feels like to be caught in one.”

  I make my way to the bar and pour us a round of vodkas on ice, as calm and collected as ever. “The difference is that in a working mousetrap, the victim doesn’t know what’s coming for him.” I hand the glasses to the girls and lock eyes with Nicole. “But we do.”

  “We don’t know who it is, though,” she says. “I’ve got a gut feeling about my superior on my end, but…”

  “Patience,” I say. “Our enemy doesn’t know we’re onto them yet. That’s something you use to your advantage, isn’t it?”

  Nicole smirks and takes a drink, eyeing me.

  “So, what do you suggest?”

  “If we split up, we’re dead,” I say. “I will be, at least. They’d have to be very careful before killing a cop, even one who’s on unpaid suspension. As long as you’re with me, my odds are a lot better, so I’m keeping you by my side.”

  “Keeping me now, is it?” she asks with a challenging raise of her eyebrows.

  “Unless you’d rather take your chances on your own, knowing there’s a bratva coup being set up that depends on you taking part of the fall,” I offer with a playful shrug of my shoulders. She glares at me, but she nods.

  Tatiana is glancing between us, probably uncomfortable with the various kinds of tension even I can feel crackling between me and Nicole right now. But she says nothing, and Nicole and I don’t break eye contact for a long time.

  “So, what do you say, officer?” I say, sitting down on the table in front of her and leaning forward with a smug smile. “Haven’t you always wanted to take down some bratva heavy hitters?”

  Nicole

  “Well, let’s see,” I reply thoughtfully, scratching at my chin. “I’m suspended without pay from the job I have clawed my way into and given my heart and soul for years. My sister is missing, compliments of the Russian mafia. I just found out my long-lost mother has been within a hundred miles of Las Vegas all this time, running the same legal brothel my old friend used to work at. And I’ve spent the better part of the day driving around the desert with a nearly-convicted criminal.”