Mafia Casanova - M. Robinson Page 0,41

shut the door and left.

I gripped the hammer in my hands and kicked the desk. It didn’t help.

The man moaned.

I jerked to attention and slowly shrugged out of my suit coat. Unbuttoning my sleeves, I rolled them up to my elbows.

Hammer in hand again, I grinned up at him. “Having a good day?”

He moaned something else I couldn’t decipher as I circled him.

“Who are you loyal to?” I asked.

“Andrei,” he whispered. “The Sinacore Family.”

“And yet…” I grazed his back with the head of the hammer. “You’re hanging in his office half dead. Try again.”

“Let me go.” His body started to convulse.

“Hmmm, I’ll tell you what. Give me the information I need, and I’ll kill you fast. You’re already dead. If you’re truly loyal to the Sinacore boss, you’ll die honoring him, not whoever paid you the most money.”

Tears slid out of his swollen eyes; he opened his mouth, maybe to cry. Scream? Beg for mercy?

“Drozdov.” A trickle of blood slid down his chin, both eyes were swollen to mere slits. His mouth was bloody; he’d most likely had a few teeth pulled, compliments of Andrei. “It’s the Drozdov.”

I halted. “You’re sure?”

“They’ll kill me.” He cried harder, his tears mixing in with the blood on his face. “They’ll kill all of you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” I whispered. “I’m going to kill you as a kindness, and then I’m going to kill them for thinking they could start their own family and break away from the Petrovs. There’s one Russian family, and it’s not them. Now the only question is do I send you back like this or send them something…to remember you by?”

He whimpered.

Without hesitation I slammed the hammer into the back of his skull.

His head lolled forward.

I wiped my hands on my pants and reached for the sharpest machete I could find from the wall, then honored my promise.

By freeing him the only way I could.

I swung.

The machete hit his neck, slicing right through. The rest of his body fell to the ground, and blood spewed from his neck, coating the floor.

I tossed the machete to the ground, hands shaking, before grabbing the remote to lower the contraption that he had been hanging from. I ignored the tremors in my body. It didn’t matter how many times I killed; I was still taking a human life, it affected me.

A life was a life.

A person was a person.

I’d taken this life.

This soul.

And many, many more.

“Sangue del mio sangue, vai con dio,” I murmured in Italian. Blood of my blood, go with God.

I made the sign of the cross, taking a deep breath in the process.

“Ax,” I announced into the intercom to Andrei’s bodyguard. “I’m done.”

The door opened, and I nodded to the dead body. Ax didn’t even flinch.

I gestured to the dismembered head. “Please send this extravagant gift to the Drozdovs with my condolences.” I angled my head and mused further, “Maybe add in some wine; I‘m feeling generous today.”

“Understood.” He glanced around the room, shaking his head. “Always so messy…”

“I can’t help it.” I shrugged. “Did Andrei need anything else?”

“No, he’s making the rounds.”

I grabbed my jacket from the chair and got out of there.”

“Have a nice day.” Ax nodded to me on my way out.

I didn’t pay anyone any mind, hauling ass to my car. My chest was tight; all I wanted was to go back to the house and shower the sickness from my soul.

That was the thing about murder.

I could wash the blood down the drain all I wanted. However, that blood still stained my soul. It never left me. Stealing pieces of me until there would eventually be nothing left.

If I could have Eden.

If I allowed myself to have her.

To finally fucking have her…

There would be nothing left for me to give her.

Nothing at all.

It was gone.

To hell in a handbasket.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“There are no heroes. No villains. Just people with a different agenda.” —Daredevil

Eden

“Did you brush your teeth?” My eyes narrowed as Naz looked everywhere but my face. At least he inherited one thing from me.

I was a horrible liar.

I wore my emotions like an armor. I’d always wished that I could lie, manipulate, be the mysterious woman with all her secrets.

But I wasn’t made like that.

I remember complaining to my dad about it one day in high school, why couldn’t I be like the other girls? He said it was refreshing that I wore my honesty with pride.

And yet, where did it get me?

I was honest with Romeo.

He’d hurt me, rejected me, pushed me away