Page 29 of Trapping His Assassin

I was scared. I wanted to go back home. I didn’t want to become the perfect wife. But I said none of these thoughts. I waited as he cleared the room with a flick of his hand. He walked me around his desk.

I furrowed my brows and tilted my head, trying to make sense of his cryptic compliment. He loomed over me, casting a shadow that seemed to stretch for miles. I felt small and insignificant in comparison.

“Kneel.”

It was the first word he’d spoken directly to me. Confused, I backed up a step, but he grabbed the back of my neck.

“I have work to do, so kneel under my fucking desk.”

Shocked that someone in his position would curse, I did as he asked. I waited for my next instructions. He sat in his chair and scooted inward. I tried to get away from him, but his legs trapped me in place.

His hands moved to undo his pants. I was trapped. I couldn’t breathe. My eyes watered. I didn’t know what he wanted me to do, but I didn’t think it was anything good. My stomach churned, and I longed to go home.

I struggled against his rough grip, my heart pounding in fear. My head hit the underside of his desk in my fight. I tried to break free, but his hands held me down and his legs caged me in the small alcove beneath his oak desk.

He let go of my face to unbuckle his pants. I tried without success to climb over his leg. He kneed me in the face, until I was back in place. He pried open my mouth with one hand, and shoved my head down on his cock with the other.

Without a care, his face fucked me and I floated away. Lost in a sea of childhood memories I couldn’t shake off. I didn’t even think about holding back my vomit. My mind had left my body, and I was just a shell reliving old trauma amid the newest form.

His touch made my skin crawl, and I disassociated even further.

The memories of my childhood came flooding back, as I finally understood his intentions. As an innocent child, I had been oblivious to the lust in the monster’s gaze - but now, as an adult, it was impossible to ignore.

CHAPTER TEN

Roman

It was the night of the meeting and I was agitated. I hadn’t been able to find Valentina again. I had my network of spies searching, and Great Uncle Benedikt reached out to Nikolay, the Petrov family thief, to see if his network had any word on my wayward assassin.

She was hiding from me, but I would find her soon enough. My cock grew hard at the reminder. When I found her, I would fuck her into submission. See if she ran with my kid in her belly, and my cum dripping down her thighs.

She was a feisty minx.

Someone I shouldn’t want to be with.

“Ready to go?” Benedikt fixed his cufflinks as he walked to the front door.

I nodded and we headed out. This time we had backup. My men were in unmarked black vans, matching the one Benedikt and I were coming in as well. When we left, we would be taking separate vans in case pursuers came after us.

We weren’t expecting the meeting to go sideways. I always liked to be prepared, though.

I fumbled with the safety of my gun, as the vehicle bounced along the dirt road. My fingers grazed over cool metal, familiar and reassuring. I slid my black steel pistol into its thigh holster, and checked my tactical vest; extra ammunition was stashed in every pocket. I ran my fingers over the handles of a few knives tucked into strategic spots on my person. And finally, my gaze landed on the heavy machine gun resting across my lap.

No, this was a friendly meeting. I wasn’t going to need it. I put it in the back of the van, and caught up with my emails while we drove to the location. It wasn’t Don Ricci’s compound. It was in the middle of Sienna, Italy. More neutral territory, since the last time the Don and the Bratva were in the same compound, blood was shed.

“We’ll reach Castello di Icario soon, sir,” the soldier told Benedikt.

Good. Once this was over, I could pursue my little killer.

My phone broke the silence with a loud, familiar ring. I glanced at the video chat to see my cousin’s face. He had been researching Valentina’s past for me. I answered.

I glared at him for the interruption.

“I think I found where she went.” He had the phone propped up, and was shuffling some papers.

I didn’t have to respond. The entire Brotherhood knew I never spoke, though sometimes when Alexie wanted to seem more powerful, he would boast that I would speak to him. It wasn’t true. We came up with our signs, so he would stop feeling so frustrated about my ‘inability to speak’.

His words, not mine.

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