Page 9 of Love Me (Touch of Death 3)
“You have one. A very good one.”
“Sasha won’t do it again.”
“My sister paid him for his services last time. I’ll pay him more.”
“He won’t mix business and pleasure…again.” He eyes me up and down.
“This is business, Nero, pure and simple.”
“Perhaps you should have reminded yourself of that.”
I let out a frustrated breath. I need to keep Sasha close and get him away from here. If I kill him in Sicily, I can make it look like it was Enrique, risen from the dead, and Una will kill Enrique in turn. My father will be brought to justice, finally. Beyond that, I’m not sure I even care about sitting on a foreign throne. But this is a means to an end, the back-up plan where love failed me. None of it works though if I don’t get Sasha to come with me.
Nero lifts one dark brow. “I will speak with Sasha, but I make no promises.”
“Thank you.” It’s the best I can ask for right now. Pushing to my feet, I turn and leave the office, releasing a hard breath the moment the door closes.
I think whatever distrust Nero might feel toward me is over-shadowed by his male ego and his inability to see past what’s right in front of him. They think I’m nothing more than a naïve little girl on the run. My father didn’t raise me to be weak, but in the last few months, I’ve been reduced to the very thing I despise. I often ask myself if it’s really all worth it, but then, I’ve come this far. To give up now would render everything I’ve already endured pointless. Let them think I’m weak. They’ll see.
4
Sasha Sasha Sasha Sasha
I knock on Nero’s office door and slip inside the room. The scent of dust, wood polish, and old books greets me.
“You wanted to see me,” I say.
“Yes. Sit.” He gestures to the leather couches that face each other in the center of the room.
The leather creaks as I take a seat.
Nero folds his arms over his chest and leans against the front of his desk. “I have a job for you,” he starts.
I sigh. “Let me guess, you want me to go to Sicily?”
His eyes pinch slightly. “Yes.”
“And why would you require me to protect Adelina Ricci? Again.” He shifts, his expression hardening. “What’s in it for you, Nero?”
“I am going to help Adelina become head of the Bianchi mafia in her husband’s stead.”
“Head of…” I laugh. “Again, what’s in it for you?”
His entire body stiffens. “What’s in it for me?” he roars. “That man hired the Elite, brought them to my fucking gate.”
“He’s dead!”
A small, twisted smirk pulls at his lips. “I will systematically tear that entire family to pieces and put the very woman who killed their king on the throne. It’s poetic really.”
What if Adelina doesn’t want the throne? She was a normal girl once, until she was dragged into all this. I know Nero doesn’t care about that though.
Nero smooth’s a hand down the front of his jacket, resuming his usual calm. “Adelina will pay you to kill Enrique’s replacement. And I need you to…protect my interests.”
“I can’t,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Because you’re in love with her?”
“No.” Because she compromises everything that I am, like a poison.
“It’s just another job.” He pushes off the desk and takes a few steps towards me. “I need you to do this for me. I know I have your loyalty.”
“What about her?” I say quietly.
He sighs. “Without us, how long do you think it will be before the Bianchi family gets her? A day? A week? Her sister can’t keep her safe.” His hands brace against his hips. “It’s just a job, Sasha. Unless you’re too involved with her to remain professional.”
“Of course not. Adelina and I are no longer involved.”
He nods. “Of course. She was a…how did you put it? A fleeting lapse in judgment.” He shrugs. “So, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
I can do this. One last job. Adelina can play the mafia queen. Nero will have his perfect little puppet, and I can once again become nothing more than a soldier. Away from her.
I sit on the opposite side of the plane from Adelina, headphones in so as not to invite conversation. I still have nothing to say to her, and I’m irritated that she teamed up with Nero to get me here.
After a few hours, movement in my periphery draws my attention. Adelina has fallen asleep, though she looks far from peaceful. Her body strains as though she’s fighting invisible hands, and a deep frown sinks a line between her brows. Her lips move, and I tug an earbud free.
“No, no, no,” she pleads, breaths hitching erratically.
I try not to think about what she’s dreaming of. Images flit through my mind, and I slam my eyes closed, forcing them away.
