been given the nickname of the Butcher, my affinity for the use of knifes both skilled and widely known.
Silent.
Deadly.
Perfection.
I stood in front of the various knifes I’d purchased over the years, including risking being identified by purchasing several while performing my job as a professor. As I selected a few, I thought about my life the last few years. I’d enjoyed normalcy in a beautiful town where the only games played were a few behind the scenes poker games and politics. It hadn’t been easy to blend in, but after several months and careful practice, no one paid any attention to the huge blond with scary tattoos.
They no longer pointed and stared when I walked into a grocery store. In fact, my classes had become some of the most popular on campus. I chuckled at the thought. I could have had any woman I wanted, but I’d refrained on every level.
Then Chloe had stepped into my classroom.
Her scent lingered on my skin. I brought my hand to my nose, taking a deep whiff, my cock stirring all over again. I’d contemplated approaching her several times, barely able to restrain my dark hunger. Now she was mine. She would soon learn to obey my every desire.
But that would have to wait.
I strapped on two knifes, selecting another two handguns. Then I grabbed my leg and shoulder holster, slapping in ammunition clips and securing both. There were other useful items such as smoke bombs and high-grade military grenades. After searching, I found my night-vision goggles and two long-range scopes, dumping them into one of the bags.
At least I would have enough firepower to last for a full month. I stood staring at the collection, growling under my breath before yanking both zippers.
I’d never forget the day Ivan had rushed into my room only two days after my father’s elaborate funeral. Tensions had been running high, Moscow on full alert. Certain government factions still resisting the power and influence of the Bratva had gathered and prepared a full tactical attack if necessary.
The word on the street was they were planning on moving in within days. I’d been prepared, but not for the news Ivan had given me.
My death was imminent, at least six assassins assigned to the job. It was only a matter of time before I made a mistake. I refused to leave at first, determined to right a wrong. However, things had escalated, making it difficult to survive.
I’d been forced to trust Ivan, a man my father had considered his most trustworthy soldier. He’d loved my father almost as much as I had, loyal since the day he’d been allowed into the organization. He’d suffered almost as much as I had but had long since proven his salt.
So, I’d left my beloved country, heading for America. My credentials were already excellent, my ability to obtain a job possible given the support paperwork. Given I was a Federov, there wasn’t a mafia organization within the United States that would dare come after me.
That made this moment even more enraging.
I moved to the safe, punching in my code and grabbing another bag. I’d amassed a tidy sum over the years, cash the only option. I stuffed the entire amount in the bag, adding it to the collection on my desk. This was all I needed in order for us to survive.
A single blip of the security system drew my attention. Snarling, I took long strides into the room, sweeping my gaze across the various cameras. A single car approached from the west side of the road. When the driver slowed a full block away, parking against the curb and immediately turning off their headlight, I switched the vision on the camera, now able to detect any movement by heat.
Within seconds, an outline of the driver appeared, the man walking slowly in the direction of the house. I yanked one of my weapons into my hand, releasing the safety, my heart pumping hard and fast. While the mystery guest was careful, moving behind several bushes as they advanced, it was obvious they were heading straight for the house.
I continued watching until they were close, then I turned off the light in the room before returning, taking another look. As the person approached, more details became visible. I held my breath as the intruder made his way up the driveway, constantly looking over his shoulder. I could tell the possible assassin was male. As soon as he was on the stoop, he lifted his head.
Jesus.
Travis.
What