Stolen from the Hitman: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (17 page)

Just as my second orgasm bursts, Max shouts my name and buries himself inside me, holding perfectly still as a stream of his hot seed fills my pussy. It’s so reckless, so dangerous, and so blissful all at once. It makes me feel more alive than I ever have, in all my years. Nothing, absolutely nothing, can compare to this moment.

We stay this way, panting breathlessly, for several minutes as we slowly come back to reality, and the realization of what line we’ve crossed comes back to us.

His eyes bore into mine, reflecting the same question back to me…

Where do we go from here?

A
s I put
my clothing from earlier today back on, I can feel Liv’s eyes watching me from the bed, the sheets half-off her naked body, and I know the question is going to come before she can even form it in her mind.

“You’re planning on leaving me behind, aren’t you?” Her voice is plaintive, but I don’t fail to hear the defiance at the tail end of her words.

“I need to go back to the manor, Liv,” I say, slipping on a pair of black gloves and making sure my jacket has everything I need in it. “Chechens or no, Felix traced Maggie’s cell phone to that location, and that’s precisely where I need to be. They’re already on high alert after everything that happened during our visit, so I’ll need to be extremely careful.” I look her in the eye even as she starts to stand up. “That means I need to act alone tonight, Liv.”

“You
cannot
expect me to sit back and let you walk into whatever you’re walking into without me,” she says incredulously as she pulls her pants and shirt back on, still only half-clothed as she follows after me while I head back into the living room and get the last of my things.

“
You
cannot expect me to let you follow me into this deathtrap,” I fire back. “This place is quiet and safe — nobody will be able to find you here, and you can lie low as long as you need to. I’ve put Felix’s number in your phone in case you need to contact him. Do so if you don’t hear back from me by tomorrow morning.”

“Max—” she starts, but I cut her off.

“These are men who are past the point of trying to take you back, Liv. If either of us were caught, we’d be killed.” I start towards the door, but she follows at my heels, unrelenting.

“Exactly! And that’s why I’m not letting you go alone. Max, you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met before, but you can’t take on a manor full of mobsters alone.”

I turn and raise an eyebrow at her as I’m halfway out the door, the cool night breeze flowing into the little homestead as the moon shines down on the countryside behind me, my form outlined as if on the precipice of heading out into an inky black dreamscape.

“And you want to do what, come with me into that dark life, Liv? Pick up a gun and start shooting as if you were born doing it? I can’t let you go down that road with me.” Our eyes meet for a painfully long moment before I say, “I care for you far too much for that.”

She clenches her jaw, unconvinced. “I don’t want to kill anyone, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still help you keep yourself out of trouble!” Before I can respond, she ducks under my arm and zips out the door faster than I realized she could move, dashing for the car in long, bounding strides while I’m left dumbfounded on the doorstep.

“Liv!” I hiss, walking out after her even as she opens the passenger’s door and clambers in, buckling her seatbelt defiantly and crossing her arms with a smug look on her face that reaches me by the time I arrive at the door.

“I’m going with you, Max,” she says again, the look in her eyes downright daring me to try and stop her.

And so I do.

With a sigh, I reach into the car and unbuckle her seatbelt, trying to get a hold of her. “Hey! What the hell are you doing?!” she exclaims as she wriggles away from me. I manage to get a hold on her hips, but she inexplicably twists away and breaks my grip on her. The same happens when I take her by the wrists, and she puts her feet on the dashboard, squirming out of the way with frustrating ease.

“I’m not going to — ungh! — let you get killed, Liv!” I say while wrapping my arms around her midsection and pulling her out of the car entirely, but seemingly defying physics, she slithers down and out of my grip as though she were made of rubber, trying to hop back into the passenger’s seat, and by the time I try wrapping my arms around hers and pin them behind her back, I have to slide myself in between her and the door to keep her from getting in, but she still manages to slip a leg around me.

I’m amazed that she’s able to evade me for so long—I’ve been able to hold onto some of the most muscular men in the Bratva with no problem, and I’ve tussled with hardened killers, but this short girl is keeping away from my grasp as easily as if we were playing a game. Then I remember that she is a world-class gymnast, and I feel a smile tugging at my face while she wrestles with me. I’m trying to keep a grip on living water.

“Stop that! Hey!” she says in protest as she realizes I’m laughing, and I only catch myself doing so when she points it out. We’re half tangled up in each other against the car door, and I relinquish myself into an embrace with her as we find ourselves locked against each other, and Liv slaps me on the chest plaintively even as we break down into laughter at each other. Finally, I step back, and she looks up at me, defiance mingled with the affection that makes her whole expression light up in the starlight.

“Alright,” I say at least with a heavy breath, realizing that her tenacity is perhaps a force to be reckoned with, “get in. I’ll need to brief you on a few things on the way over there.” Her expression brightens up like a fireworks display, and we climb into the car, pulling out mere moments later into the evening roads.

I’m not thrilled with the arrangement, but I’ve just been given an idea about how she can help.

* * *

I
bring
the car to a stop several blocks away from the manor, and we step out silently, beginning our trek to the estate like a pair of shadows among the French architecture. I have to glance over my shoulder a few times as we walk to make sure Liv is still behind me, and each time, I see her shining eyes looking back up at me, never deviating from her pace, even if my trained ears can’t hear her.

She’s good at keeping quiet. Whether she’s as skilled at maneuvering through the compound once we arrive is another matter entirely.

“The space behind the manor is somewhat wooded,” I explain as we approach, “that’s why we’re moving around the edge of the grounds. Any other route, and they’ll spot us from a mile away. We’re only here to scope the place out tonight.”

“We aren’t rescuing Maggie?” she whispers, incredulous.

“If we go in blind, we’ll be killed within minutes,” I say. “I spent days, sometimes weeks learning the patterns of my targets and their guards when I carried out my work for the Bratva. I consider this a rush job.”

“And if they spot us?” she whispers back after a tense pause.

“Keep moving, don’t worry about me. If your legs can carry you as fast as I saw earlier, you won’t have trouble outmaneuvering them. Disappear into the city and take a cab to drive around for a while, then head to your old university dorm once you’re sure nobody is tailing you. I’ll wait for you there.”

“If we get caught,” she clarifies.

“If we get caught,” I affirm.

Once we’re up to the wooded area and moving up on the manor walls, Liv moves up ahead of me quickly and silently, making less sound than a fox sneaking around a guard dog. I watch her nimbly make her way a short distance up a tree nearby, squinting up at the walls of the villa while I crouch nearby. Her brow furrows, and she slithers back down to my side.

“No guards on the walls,” she reports, and I blink in surprise, looking up there myself to confirm her statement. I don’t have as good a view as she did, but it looks like she’s right. I nod for us to proceed, and we sneak up to the base of the walls, where the ivy wafts above us in the breeze, moonlight catching on their broad leaves, but not a sound of footsteps can be heard up on the walls, nor the chatter of men on guard duty beyond.

Frowning, Liv glances at a tree that sways just next to the walls, and before I can stop her, she starts shimmying up the branches as if she were born in the trees. I look on in no little wonder at her body.

Despite being so small and fragile, she’s remarkably nimble and dexterous, even for gymnastics students of her caliber. I give a smile, proud of her for being so quick to adapt her natural talents and hard-earned skill to a new environment so quickly. And as she moves, I admire her lithe legs all the way up to her ass, and I feel the lust for her I felt just a couple of hours ago back at our hideout. My mind starts to swim with the wrongness of it all — I slept with my student, a girl already in a new country and a desperate situation.

She put her life into my hands, and I made her mine.

And when she looks down and smiles at the look I’m giving her from below, I know we both crave more. For right or for wrong, there’s no going back, and there’s not an ounce of me that wants to. Hearing her sweet moans, seeing her body writhe against mine... it was the sweetest pleasure my life has ever known.

Then my heart nearly stops as I watch her push off the tree and catch herself on the edge of the wall, no fear in her eyes. She peeks up over the edge and looks around, but I hear no sounds of shouting, no gunshots, and no frenzy for Liv to scramble back down. Instead, she turns and hisses a whisper back down to me.

“Empty!”

I pause, staring up at her. “...empty?”

“Completely,” she says, “nobody on the walls or the courtyard, not even the balconies.”

My first thought is of ambush. But how could they anticipate our arrival, and what kind of ambush would entail all of them leaving the grounds like this? Something sits very sourly with me, and I gesture for Liv to get down.

She climbs her way back to the ground with ease, and we slip around the side of the building cautiously, peeking around each corner as if expecting a gunman behind each one, but there isn’t a sign of life to be found.

Finally, we reach the guard post at the front entrance, and my suspicion is confirmed — there’s nobody here. I draw my pistol, moving close to the booth, and I stand up over it and push the gun through the open window.

Nothing.

I look around at the courtyard and see only a lone squirrel bound away from us near a decorative tree. A fountain towards the center is turned off, and it’s deathly silent all around. We head in, keeping close to the walls and moving around the side of the building.

My eyes are on the windows, waiting for a curtain to move or for me to see a pair of eyes watching us or a rifle scope trained on us, but there’s simply nothing. Something starts to nag at me, and I start to take out my phone to call Felix when I catch Liv out of the corner of my eye, climbing up the side of the wall towards one of the balconies.

“Liv!” I hiss, alarmed and stepping forward towards the building.

But she’s already up at a balcony, and to my astonishment, she just peeks into the window doors as if she were breaking into her own home. “Nothing,” she mouths down to me.

I climb up after her, my old instincts kicking in like riding a bike after a long time, and I land beside her, moving forward to pick the lock to the place. The lock clicks after a moment, giving me pause. I’d have expected unlocked doors and windows if they were expecting to ambush us.

Before I can stop her, Liv slips inside, and I follow after her, pistol out and to the ready.

“Oh my god…” she breathes as she looks out on what she sees, and I frown deeply.

We’re on the second floor of the building, standing on a walkway. The floor ends about five feet into the building, and an ornate metal railing lines the edge that opens out to a full view of the ground floor, which is a stunning sight. There are Italian busts and statues lining the walls, remarkably expensive plants garnishing each one at the base. What seems to be a marble fountain sits in the middle of the room, and I see rose petals scattered throughout the whole place.

“It’s beautiful,” Liv says.

“If you could see what takes place in lavish manors like these,” I say grimly, “you’d change your tone.”

We start to make our way inside, and it doesn’t take long to realize the place seems as empty as the exterior was. There isn’t a sound to be heard nor a light on. We make our way down the stairs, and the sight before us starts to become a little clearer.

There’s a grand piano on display, and I can see empty champagne glasses sitting on it and the edge of the fountain, a bottle left here and there. As I move up to inspect them, I notice that some have red lipstick still on the rim. The black of the piano reveals a fine white powder in very trace amounts near some of the glasses, and to my disgust, I notice a used condom shoved behind the leg of the instrument.

“Hell of a party,” Liv says, but her tone is more somber now, and I know she’s thinking of the same thing I am: where was Maggie for all this?

Further inspection of the room reveals more of the same. There seems to have been some kind of wild, hedonistic revelry here in the recent past, but everyone seems to have cleared out very quickly. The entire time Liv and I look the place over, my pistol is out, and my eyes spend half their time focusing on the doors to other rooms, just waiting for the mob to burst in.

No such thing happens.

I move over to the front door and find it locked. “Whoever left the house really abandoned this place,” I say, unlocking the door for our convenience before moving back to the center of the room with Liv, who’s sitting on the edge of the fountain and gazing down into the waters thoughtfully. “I don’t think Maggie is here any longer, Liv.”