Havok: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance - Riley Rollins Page 0,7

looks the part.

This time I grin, recalling the nighttime raid when we stole a batch of hundred dollar plates from the Delaware mint. Luka drowned a couple guards in a fish tank, and saved my ass from being shot in the back. It was really one for the storybooks. Now we're shipping the plates back to Moscow where they'll be put into the hands of the Bratva's expert counterfeiters.

"You were fucking beautiful that night," I say to Luka, reaching out to pinch his cheek. He snorts with laughter and slaps my hand away.

"Touch me again, and I'll saw your balls off," he says, and everyone erupts in laughter.

"Very good," says Petrov, wiping a tear of laughter off his cheek. "And Havok, Mr. Vittorio?"

Vittorio was my last target, that Italian bastard. He was pushing his drug dealers up into our territory, right up until I slit his throat. Just three nights ago, he was enjoying the high life on one of his yachts in the West Ark bay. Now, he's enjoying the bottom of the bay along with the catfish and other sea creatures. Permanently.

I make a slicing motion against my throat with my hand. "Junked," I say. Valentin snorts, stifling a laugh, and Petrov nods. Petrov hated that fucker.

"Outstanding." He motions toward a canvas bag leaning against the wall, and nods his head at me. "Twenty-five grand, no sequential. Yours." My payment for sending Mr. Vittorio on his final voyage.

Shit, I'd do it again for free, just for another chance to see the way the bubbles poured out of his mouth as he sunk to his death. It was like he was trying to single-handedly carbonate the entire bay. Fucker not only stole our profits, he hurt and maimed legions of innocent people. He got exactly what he deserved.

Finally, Petrov turns to Igor. "Last business tonight. The new operation?"

I cock my eyebrow and exchange glances with Luka and Valentin. For the last few months, Grigory and Petrov have had Igor working some kind of mystery operation that we aren't privy to. And something about it sets off alarm bells inside me. I don't fucking like it at all, but what the hell am I supposed to do? In the Bratva, we follow our orders, and we don't bitch.

Still, I fucking hate the bastard being around Penny at all, especially when it involves some kind of mystery job. I can't stand the thought of her in danger, especially after tonight. She's still on my mind, and I can't get her off of it.

Igor smiles, showing his crooked, yellowed teeth. "It's going perfect, boss."

5

Penny

Outside in the back alley, the night air blows cold and I pull my hood on, shivering. My flats pad against the cracked, dirty asphalt. This is the worst part of the walk home, and the hair on the back of my neck bristles as I walk past the deep alcoves and side paths cut into this stretch of the backroad. It would be so simple for someone to jump out, grab me, and drag me down into the belly of West Ark, never to be heard from again. Especially with me all mellowed out on painkillers.

I replay the encounter with Havok over and over again in my mind. He probably thinks I'm such a creep now. A creep who doesn't get the message that he's not interested.

Not like it matters anyway. It's all a stupid fantasy, something I've invented to escape the reality of my insane, abusive, drugged-up life.

But God, part of me wants so badly for Havok to come out of that door behind me, grab my hand, and lead me away from my old life forever. I want his touch, his protection, his body. He could give me the courage I need to leave Brock and turn everything around.

I still feel wetness between my legs. If Brock's waiting for me at home, he'll probably want to fuck tonight. My lip curls at the thought. I'll give it up to him because I have to, but I won't like it.

Right as I'm exiting the alley and stepping onto the safety of the well-lit Grant Road sidewalk leading back to my apartment, a voice behind me makes me jump.

"Penny!"

For a split second, I imagine that it could be Havok. But it's not—it's a woman's voice. I whirl around and see that it's Mackenzie. Her heels clack and echo through the alley as she walks briskly toward me.

Jesus. My heart pounds, and I try not to show my annoyance