Page 23

CHARLOTTE

“ A nything on the cameras?” I snap at Misha.

I’ve been looking out of these damn binoculars for an hour. I saw Enzo walk in on his own, or a guy matching his vague description we’ve been given.

Italian, over six foot, and dark hair.

The camera feed went down two minutes before he stepped foot through the door.

“We should have got an apartment lower down,” I grumble, looking back at Misha, who is laughing at his phone.

“I swear to fuck, if you’re watching stupid videos again, I will smash that over your damn head, Misha.”

His dark eyes snap to mine and he growls.

“It’s dead, Charlotte. He’s hacked the system and we can’t override it. Just keep looking pretty with what you’re doing. I’m almost in the cameras across the street.”

I huff and get back to it.

“I’m in,” he calls out.

“Good.”

Not many people pass by here. There's a few loitering at the bar, but I can’t really see it through the windows. Whoever the mark is, they’ll likely be the next person entering. Seeing as the meet is set for one minute's time, I bet whoever they are won’t leave this Enzo guy waiting if he’s this important.

My breath hitches, and my heart almost stops.

Jimmy.

He is looking down at his phone when he gets to the door, then he stops and looks up.

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. Hoping to God Misha isn’t going to put two and two together of where I was last night.

“Gottcha,” he shouts out cheerily.

Putting the goggles back on my eyes, a sinking feeling happens in my chest.

How am I supposed to kill the one guy who has ever made me feel… anything.

Why did it have to fucking be him?

“Hold up.”

I cringe, refusing to turn around.

“Charlotte. Get your ass here.”

I squeeze my fists and slowly turn. Leaving the binoculars on the table, I pad over to Misha on the kitchen island.

He points at the screen and looks up and smirks.

“Your face tells me exactly why I caught you running in the hallway at sunrise.”

His eyes flick between my face and the screen. He tuts.

“You dirty fucking whore, he was where you were last night? You slept with the fucking mark?”

Silence fills the room before he slams his palm on the counter and erupts into laughter.

“No.” I keep my voice flat.

“Liar. Well, well, well, you naughty girl,” he mocks.

My blood starts to boil when he stands and leans in, taking a deep breath.

All my hairs stand on end as his nose touches my bare shoulder.

“You know I can’t keep this information from Vlad, don’t you?”

I shake my head and step back, keeping my chin up.

“Nothing to tell. You’re wrong.” I keep my gaze on him. I do not back down.

A sly smile erupts on his face.

“You smell of sex, baby. There is one way this can all go away. I will keep quiet and kill the mark, your identity never revealed.”

My heart accelerates as he says the word “kill” so flippantly.

I remain still, assessing my options. There has to be another way. Fight, Charlotte.

“How's that then?” I question, tilting my head, reminding him I do not fear him.

He slumps back on his seat and taps his lap.

“Easy. Ride my fat dick, baby. Show me what you gave this asshole.” He points at the still of Jimmy filling the screen.

Even like that, he makes my heart race. He doesn’t deserve this. Not because of me and this bastard family.

“Oh, yeah? Is that all it would take?” I twirl my hair around my index finger and bat my lashes.

A growl erupts from Misha’s chest as he swipes his greasy hair back from his face.

“God, I’ve wanted a taste of you for a long time.”

With a slow step forward, I slide one strap of my cami down my shoulder. He spreads his legs and I shake my head.

Placing my hand on his thigh, I lean in and whisper, “If you want me to ride you, I have to straddle you.” I pull back and bite my lip. The hunger in his eyes is repulsing me, but I keep this show up. He leans back and starts to unbuckle his belt.

I take a breath, trying to calm my erratic heart. He cannot lock on to my plan. Just as he’s whipping his dick out, I grab the knife from the stand. He looks up, and I don’t hesitate.

I drive that blade in the right side of his neck. Level with his Adam’s apple, hoping I hit the right spot.

He jolts forward, his eyes bulging out of his head and mouth dropping, and right on cue, the blood rapidly spurts out of his neck.

He grabs hold of the handle, the crimson pouring through his fingers as he drops to the floor.

I step back and watch him bleed out. It happens so fast, the blood spilling over the white floor.

He tries to take a breath but gurgles, his eyes going wide, staring right at me. I can’t move. I don’t want to.

When he starts to wobble as his body goes limp, and all the color drains from him, I jump back when he falls face first on the tiles.

Fuck.

With shaking hands, I grab my phone out of my jean pocket and tighten my grip on the knife with the other. Calling the only person in the world who can help me.

The moment of truth about where he aligns.

I hit dial, and he answers on the first ring.

“Charlotte?” Concern is clear in Drago’s deep voice.

I suck in a shaky breath, him being on the line calming my rapid heart.

“We have a problem. A big one.”

“Let me check the line.”

I hear a couple of clicks and he’s back.

“It’s Misha, he’s dead.”

Silence. I swallow the lump in my throat. My hands trembling.

“How?” he finally asks.

“Knife to the throat.”

He swears under his breath.

“You did this?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Let me think.”

I keep quiet, like a kid being told off at school. I glance up at Jimmy’s face on the screen.

“The mark. Have you identified him yet? I assume you didn’t make yourself known?”

“Identified. We are in the apartment across the street as directed.”

“You got enough to ID him? We need someone to pin this on, pronto.”

I look at the laptop and hold back the tears.

“Charlotte. Talk to me. You fuck this up, you’re as good as dead.”

“I know him. I know who he is, which room is his, and how to get to him.”

I really don’t want to do this. But it’s me against him. If I fuck this up worse than I have already, I will die, and so will my father. And probably Drago.

“How do you know him?”

I cringe.

“I slept with him. Last night.”

I flinch as he shouts over the phone.

“Jesus. Fuck.”

“There is no other option. We pin this on the mark. We tell Vlad that when you attempted to capture him, he turned, stabbed Misha in the neck, and turned on you. You fled.”

I nod. It makes sense.

It keeps Jimmy alive.

“Will Vlad buy that?”

I can hear him scratch his stubble.

“We get the cops on his tail. I have someone I can call in, it will get us the paperwork we need to back us up. You know what that means?”

I chew on my nails, dread pitting in my stomach.

“I can get into his penthouse. I can have it done in fifteen minutes. I’ll hack into the CCTV, alert you when he’s going to his room so you can get the cops in. I have no idea when he’s leaving the resort. It has to be done now.”

“Leave it somewhere he will pick it up, without thinking. His prints need to be on the knife.”

My heart is almost beating out of my chest. I shouldn’t care this much. I should be thinking about myself. But I can’t help it. He had an effect on me that I can’t shake.

“Will he actually get arrested? Like, go to prison?”

“He’s part of the mafia. Even if he doesn’t run, he will get out, especially if he’s linked to Enzo. We just gotta hope he doesn’t come after us with those connections.”

“Won’t Vlad go after him? The mark?”

He groans.

“Don’t ever catch feelings from a one-night stand. And no. Not if we make clear he is dealing with Enzo. He’s wary of Enzo. He won’t start a war he can’t win yet. We just have to stick with our story without the evidence and hope Vlad falls for it.”

I let out a shaky breath.

“I don’t give a fuck about him. I am here to protect you and your father, and myself in some respects. It will be fine. Your mark killed Misha. I’ll arrange a clean-up. Now go. Do your job. We can discuss your behavior when you get home.”

“I’m sorry.”

I hate letting him down. I look down at Misha’s dead body and feel no remorse. In fact, I want to get my tattoo gun and draw his flower on me now.

“I appreciate you telling the truth. I’ll arrange your jet. Keep the phone close for details and call me when the knife is planted.”

He clicks the call off. I swipe the laptop up, ready to delete all traces of Jimmy from the laptop and dump it.

It’s the least I can do for the shit storm my actions are about to cause.