Ghosted: A Mafia Assassin Romance (Team Zero Book 2), page 14
The dark want in those eyes swallows me whole as he grunts. “You’re so fucking wet.”
I bite my lower lip, roll my hips, and silently beg him to continue.
“For me?” he asks.
“For you.” It’s pointless to deny it.
A hungry possession fills his eyes as his finger thrusts inside me. My head tilts back in a wordless whimper. Some other strange noises slip from my mouth. My hands fist the sheets.
He adds another finger and starts moving them. My walls clench around him and my stomach tightens. His mouth finds my sensitive nipple again. The moment his free hand wraps around my throat, I shatter all around him.
The orgasm hits like a strong wave and rips through me in a rush. I close my eyes as loud, strange noises leave my lips.
I didn’t even last a minute. Is that normal?
When I finally open my eyes, Julian is kneeling between my legs watching me like he’s a ravenous lion and I’m his prey.
It should’ve given me red alerts, but I’m utterly lost in the aftermath of what just happened. Julian lit a fire I didn’t know existed, and now, I don’t think I want it extinguished.
I can’t help admiring his raw freaking masculinity. Tattoos peek from the cuffs and collar of his shirt. A few dark strands of hair escape the neat sleek and fall on his forehead.
Just when I’m contemplating stroking them back, Julian’s hand slips under my waist. He pulls me into him so I’m kneeling on the bed like him. I yelp then moan when my still aching nipples brush against his shirt.
“You’re so fucking screwed, Firefly.” He wraps an arm around my waist so his erection presses at the bottom of my stomach. “Now, you’re in for good.”
I put a small distance between us so I can reach a tentative hand to his bulge. “So are you, Julian.”
The moment I touch him over his trousers, a groan rips from the back of his throat. The sound is so masculine and animalistic, tingles start between my legs all over again.
No idea what the hell I’m doing, but I love how he hardens underneath my fingers until he sucks in a breath. I have this effect on him just like he has on me.
A phone vibrates somewhere.
We pay it no attention.
I properly position myself in front of him. My touch turns bolder as I stroke him over the cloth.
“Fuck, Firefly.” Julian grunts, his fingers fist into my hair. “Are you trying to drive me insane?”
I lean in and plant a kiss on his erection, smiling with sheer satisfaction. “Maybe.”
I’m about to unbuckle his belt when a loud thud hits the door. No. The window.
“Fuck off!” Julian growls.
“Time to go!” Shadow shouts from the window. Although his head doesn’t peek in, I cross my ripped T-shirt over my chest, then scramble beneath the sheets. My cheeks heat.
“I’ll kill you if you come in!” Julian shouts back and runs a hand over his face. His heated gaze falls on me. “This isn’t over, Firefly.”
My heartbeat pounds at the promise.
“Look what you’ve done.” He readjusts himself with a pained expression.
I feel guilty that he has to go with a bothersome hard on, but pride fills me all the same.
Although Shadow must be gone, I still drape the sheets securely around my torso.
When Julian stands to his feet, I ask, “Where are you going?”
“A meeting.” He leans in and brushes his lips against mine as if that’s the most natural thing to do. My chest does that stupid tightening again. Maybe, just maybe, I want it to be the most natural thing to do, too.
“Stay here and don’t move. I’ll be back before you know it.” Julian heads to the metallic wardrobe where he keeps a safe. He punches in a code, grabs his gun – a spare gun – because the other one is always on him, and heads out.
If he’s taking extra arms and Shadow is going, too, then something big must be happening tonight.
Despite the pleasure still humming inside me, alarm grips me.
Instead of listening to Julian, I spring to my feet.
It’s a long shot, but perhaps this can provide information about Zoe’s disappearance.
I can’t miss this.
The energy in Le Salon’s hall is different from usual. It’s past midnight, so it’s normal that there aren’t many patrons around, but tonight, they’re fewer than usual. Only three regular geezers are chatting with the girls.
The number of guards shot up, too. They all work here, but usually in shifts. Tonight, most of them showed up. Their shoulders are squared as if ready for a brawl.
The suffocating energy turns my spine rigid. Le Salon appears every bit the monstrous place Liam and I studied in his cave.
The mafia. They’re the freaking mafia, and their meeting is probably about fucking up the universe some more.
And I’m here all alone.
I gulp as I head to the bar area. Zoe was also here all alone, and it’s my mission to bring her home.
I opted for a little black dress that Scar thought was too gloomy for her wardrobe. It’s comfortable and pretty – unlike the matching heels.
Scar is nowhere to be found and neither is Kyle, so I assume he’s attending the meeting. I fetch a bottle of cognac and head to Mist’s office – where I’m sure all meetings take place.
At the entrance of the second floor, a guard with squared features and a bald head thrusts a hand in front of my face. “No one’s allowed in.”
I adopt my sweetest smile that I’ve been practising with Scar in the mirror. “Kyle wants his cognac. You know how grumpy he gets when he doesn’t get his drink.”
The guard scowls then tries to yank the tray. “I will take it.”
I smoothly pull the plate away and say in a flirty tone, “He asked me to bring it for a reason. If you want to take it, fine. I will just tell him that I didn’t show up because you didn’t let me.”
He scowls again, but he moves out of the way.
Whoa. That wasn’t so hard. I need to practise more facial expressions with Scar.
The entire hallway is overflowing with scowling guards. I walk down with measured steps, greeting and smiling at them. As I approach Mist’s office, the guards’ faces become less and less familiar. They aren’t from the firm. If they were, I would’ve seen them around.
Perhaps this is a meeting with some other gangsters.
Liam would definitely want to know about this. I think it has to do with that war everyone has been talking about.
If Julian finds me here, he’ll be super pissed off, but I will try to be discrete.
I stop in front of Mist’s office and attempt to get past the guards. I don’t get to say a word. This time, a tall guard with dark skin doesn’t even talk to me. He takes the tray from my hand and opens the door. His companion puts both hands on my shoulders to stop me from going any further.
At that moment, I tiptoe and peer around the guards to see who’s inside. Mist comes into view. She’s wearing an impossibly short dress that bunches up to her thighs when she crosses her legs.
I hate how beautiful she is.
Then, when I make out the man bluntly staring at her with disgusting eyes, fury overwhelms me.
Johnny. That arsehole. The urge to barge in there and punch him to death bubbles inside me.
The man sitting beside Johnny catches my attention. He’s bald with pointy ears. He’s wearing a striped suit and a red bow tie, it’s almost comical. His expression is completely serene as he focuses ahead – on someone out of my vision.
The stranger says, “Give us the girl who hurt Johnny and there won’t be a war, Ghost.”
My pulse spikes up, and I lean sideways to take a better view of Ghost. The door slams shut in my face.
The guard who’s been holding my shoulder turns me towards the lift. “Out you go.”
I smile and scramble away. There’s no way they would allow me inside, anyway.
That man said something about giving him the girl who hurt Johnny.
Me.
Either they give me or there will be a war.
It’s no secret what Ghost and Mist will decide.
I start running.
Chapter Fifteen
President Joe’s face is round and flat and begging to be punched to fucking death.
I maintain my relaxed posture despite the urge to get up and rip his heart out of his chest. I don’t even need Omega to encourage me.
Just his words are enough to stir that ugly, rage-filled side.
Shadow and I sit across from President Joe and Johnny. Mist chose to sit next to them – a friendly gesture. Kyle fusses with the drinks the guard just brought. He’s never been good with sitting around in these types of meetings.
“It’s only fair to hand her over,” President Joe says and adjusts his striped double-breasted suit. He meets my stare with a cool, diplomatic one and sips from his whiskey on rocks. “Better men died for hurting Johnny. She’s a mere girl and I want her taken care of.”
My clutch tightens around the glass of scotch. I’m tempted to down it all, but stop myself. That would show agitation, and I don’t do that. Especially not in front of a dog like President Joe who’s always sniffing for his rivals’ weaknesses.
He’s never found one on me – not from lack of trying. I won’t give him a chance to find it now.
Johnny, who’s been blatantly eye-fucking Mist, turns at his president’s words and puffs his chest like a kid who brought his father to the fight. Because that’s exactly what he did. A pussy like Johnny needs President Joe behind him to show his power.
“I’m going to fuck that bitch up with my bare hands for what she’s done.” He snarls then downs a shot of whisky before glaring at me. The scar becomes an ugly faded colour. “You killed two of my fucking men for her!”
I’m stopping myself by an inch not to send the fucker after them.
He wasn’t snarling or even looking me in the eye when he begged for his life.
“Two of my finest men. We need compensation.” President’s Joe’s voice and expression are composed, completely devoid of the reckless anger in Johnny’s. He’s a man of logic who survived decades of running mobster groups even when he was imprisoned. That alone makes him a notable opponent.
The only reason why I’m not cutting out Johnny’s tongue for calling Elle a bitch is because I need President Joe. Letting the factory disappear by his doing is the only way around escaping Hades’ wrath. President Joe must keep a loser like Johnny by his side because the bastard is successful at selling drugs.
Shadow leans on his elbows. “Like what exactly?”
“Like...” President Joe trails off and meets my gaze. “A share in the new factory you’re setting up?”
Now, we’re talking.
But Shadow continues the masquerade so we don’t come out with the short stick of the deal. “You want a fucking share for some men’s lives?”
“My finest men.” President Joe straightens.
“Come on, everyone.” Kyle saunters from the cabinet, holding a glass of cognac and grinning wide. “Let’s chill for a minute.”
“I’m sure we can work something out.” Mist’s lips curve in that welcoming smile, appearing like an upper class, elegant woman. She’s even wearing one of her designer dresses and makeup. Her appearance is drastically different from the dishevelled state she’s existed in for days.
“I want that bitch.” Johnny’s squeaky voice drags on my nerves.
“And the girl, of course.” President Joe agrees. “No one humiliates my second in command and lives to talk about it.”
“We will think it over.” Mist places a hand on Johnny’s thigh. He visibly flinches, eyes growing wide as if he’s a teenager with a crush. She flashes her best sultry eyes. “I’m sure you will give us time, right?”
“Sure.” Johnny swallows and grins.
“A week,” President Joe says, unfazed with what Johnny said. “Either give us the girl and a share of the factory or it’s a full-blown war.” He stands and offers his hand. “I’m sure you don’t want that, Ghost.”
I get up, button my jacket and give him a firm shake. If only I could crush his and Johnny’s bones. “Of course not.”
“We will keep in touch.” He strides out with a slight limp. Johnny’s gaze lingers over Mist before he follows him out.
As soon as the door closes behind them, Kyle plops on the sofa. “Well, that was boring. I should’ve stayed with Flame.”
Shadow’s wary gaze flickers my way. “What will you do?”
“What do you mean what will he do?” Mist springs to her feet, arms crossed under her chest. “Of course he’s giving them what they want. We will stall for time and cover our tracks so Hades knows nothing about this.”
I pick up my glass of scotch and drink half of it. The burn clogs my throat. “I’m not giving them Elle.”
Kyle smirks. Shadow shrugs. Mist’s eyes fill with a blind rage that matches the colour of her hair.
“What did you just say?” she hisses.
“I won’t hand Elle to those pigs. That’s fucking final.”
“Final?” she repeats, incredulous. “As in, ‘it’s fine if Hades kills Hawk and the others?’ That type of final?”
I slam my glass on the table. “Hawk is my mate. So are the others, and I will think of a way to save them, but I’m not sending an innocent girl to be raped and killed for them. Is that fucking clear?”
“Listen here, Ghost.” Mist is in my face in a second. Her nostrils flare as if she’s about to breathe fire. “I don’t know what the fuck this girl has done to you, but I never thought you would abandon us for someone who came yesterday. I will never allow anything to happen to Hawk because of her or anyone else. Now, is that fucking clear?”
She grabs a bottle of gin from the cabinet and storms out of the room.
“Isn’t she the ultimate drama queen?” Shadow whistles, for once getting an idiom right. “Never mind her, mate. She’s been especially pissy this period.”
Because of Hawk. She’s right to a degree. He’s been one of ours for decades. But how the hell does she expect me to give Elle to those monsters? I wouldn’t do it even if it was another woman, let alone Elle.
“Mist holds grudges, you know.” Kyle sips from his cognac and watches his phone as if all of this is normal. “You shouldn’t make her an enemy, Godfather.”
“Who said anything about an enemy?” I sigh through my teeth. “I will talk to her once she cools down.”
“That old hag never cools down.” Shadow throws his weight next to Kyle and snatches a bottle from the table. He doesn’t bother with a glass and drinks straight from it.
“I’m just saying.” Kyle pours me a drink and offers it. “Come drink with me, Godfather.”
I’m about to join him to clear my head when the door opens. Flame stalks inside, wearing a hoodie that camouflages half his face.
Nicotine smell fills the room as he blows smoke from a cigarette hanging casually from his mouth.
He kills the smoke in the ashtray and falls on the sofa in the back. “I can finally sleep now that the drama is over.” He meets my gaze. “Unless you have something for me to burn?”
“Not yet.” I’ll try to negotiate with President Joe when Johnny isn’t around. Perhaps offer him more than a small share of the factory as long as he forgets about Elle.
If it doesn’t go well, Flame will have to burn his whole place down. Then, I’ll go back to square one and think about a way to not flood the streets with drugs.
It will be us against Hades all over again.
My temple throb just thinking about it.
“By the way,” Flame says, eyes closed. “That girl ran away. What was her name again...? Zoe...”
Shadow jumps to his feet, scotch bottle in hand, and his shoulders straining against his T-shirt.
“No... not that one,” Flame continues. “The one with Scar the whole time... Emma something.”
“Elle?” I all but shout.
“Right. That’s what Scar calls her.”
In a few strides, I’m looming over where he sleeps. “Where did she go?”
“I don’t know.” He cracks one eye open and stares at me with a bored expression. “She heard something about President Joe asking to hand her over and then... poof.”
Fuck.
I’m running towards the door before I know it. Kyle calls after me, something about how I never drink with him anymore, but I ignore him.
A tightening sensation that’s been long forgotten grips my chest.
Where the hell did she go?
This is Johnny’s perfect opportunity to snatch her away. Why would she put herself in danger? She’s offering herself on a fucking platter.
I’m pissed off at myself that I didn’t tie her to the bed before leaving. Knowing how stubborn she is, of course she wouldn’t listen.
The unknown feeling I didn’t recognise earlier suffocates me again. And then... it becomes clearer the more I don’t see Elle.
It’s fear.
An emotion that’s been erased by Omega now grips me by the gut.
I’m fucking scared about losing Elle.
Chapter Sixteen
I’m running and panting and the bloody heels are digging into the soles of my feet.
Buildings and half-empty streets blur in my vision as I disappear into the night. I don’t even think about where I’m going or how to get there. I just need to escape before Ghost hands me over to Johnny.
After a long run, the torturous shoes prevent me from running anymore. Sweat trickles down my back and my muscles scream from exertion.
I find myself in an empty, dimly-lit park with a few broken streetlights. I fall to a bench that creaks in protest.
With a sweaty hand, I push rebel strands off my eyes and breathe through my nose and mouth.
I need to be level-headed about this.
If Ghost would hand me over so easily to Johnny, perhaps he’s sacrificed Zoe for his drug deals, too. She could’ve pissed off some gangster – which is likely considering how much she talks back.
