Page 13 of Dangerous Secrets

“Oh fuck,” I whisper to myself. It’s Mickey. He’s at my fucking loft. Holy hell this is all I need.

I run quietly back into my bathroom and grab the test and the packaging and look around for someplace to hide it. The trash can is full. I can’t put it there, and I have no clue why he’s here. So, I lift a handful of trash out of the can, toss the test and packaging, and cover it with the trash again. Then I wash my hands hastily and carry the hand towel to the door, drying my hands as I open it.

“What took so long?” Mickey’s goon says, pushing in as I back up. I scowl at him.

“I was having a shit, okay?” The towel in my hand must be convincing enough because Mickey struts in and nods at me, unbuttoning his suit coat. He’s not as impressive as he thinks he is, though he does have a commanding presence. Mostly because he will slit any man’s throat who looks at him wrong, not because he’s anything to look at.

“Bianca, you know why I’m here.” Mickey slides his hands into his pants pockets as his second goon enters and shuts the door. I’ve met them; I just have no interest in learning their names. They’re not important in this game. They’re just the muscle.

“Do I?” I ask nonchalantly as I drape the towel over my shoulder and walk toward the kitchen. “Beer? Glass of wine?”

“Cut the crap, Moretti; the boss is talking.” Goon number one is seriously angry today which makes me smirk and chortle. He really needs to chill out.

“I’m quite fine thank you.” Mickey stays put where he is on the living room side of the bar. I circle around behind it and open the fridge, raising my eyebrows at goon number two who seems quieter. He shakes his head and scrunches his nose, so I grab one beer, only for me.

“What can I do for you, Mickey?” My heart is pounding so hard I can hear the blood thrumming through the veins in my head. Mickey never pays a personal visit unless he’s out for blood or very invested. I know how much he wants the Gusev family gone because they’re his rivals. If he can remove them, he can take their territory.

I’ve told him from the very beginning that the best opportunity for me to take them all out is for me to get so close to my original target—Roman, the youngest Gusev—that he clings to me for comfort when his old man dies. The funeral seems very fitting. He knows my plan. I’ve made it clear to him despite my brothers being out of the loop. He can effectively crash the funeral or plant a bomb. He doesn’t need me. But if he wants stealth and to do the hit without blowback from Russian hands or friends, he has to trust me.

“Alexsi Gusev is on hospice now.” His eyes narrow at me as his chin lowers. His forehead wrinkles as he furrows his brow. “It is only a matter of time before his death occurs. I have word that he will not have a wake. How will you carry out your plan?”

He’s a bit of a stout man, standing an inch shorter than me. His pinstripe suit is too cliché, straight out of those sixties’ gangster films. He takes it too far I think, but maybe it’s part of the code of made men everywhere. He has to represent the family and everything they’ve stood for ages.

“My plan remains the same.” I use a magnet from the fridge to pop the cap on my beer and hold it to my lips. It’s cold, and the moment the liquid hits my tongue I know I shouldn’t drink it. Not while pregnant. I swallow only a tiny sip but I make it appear to be a much larger drink. These men cannot see any uncertainty or weakness in me at all. It will spell my death.

Mickey’s grunt is a sign he’s approving of me, though he’d never admit it. I know him. I’ve studied him for years now and my own personal hypervigilance helps me learn how to read everyone, including the most dangerous mobster in the city.

“You are certain you can get close enough to him to warrant an invitation to the funeral of the most powerful man in the Russian mob?” His eyebrows rise in the middle, and he purses his lips. I set the beer down, thankful for the excuse to get it out of my hand. I’m so on edge I could chug the whole thing just for the effect of relaxation, but I won’t do that to my unborn child.

Walking around the corner of the bar I begin to chuckle, lightening the mood. “Your men are so inept they left me alone with him for five minutes out front of the club last week. Roman was there, whisked me off to his sex den. We were there for hours screwing like fucking animals.” It’s not a complete lie, but I have to keep my lies so close to the truth they’re easy to remember. “I’m certain he is falling in love with me. He calls me his own.” I narrow my eyes at Mickey. “I’m in, boss. He is wrapped around my finger. Any day he will get the news his father is dead and he will come to me for comfort. I will fuck him and tell him I will be by his side every step of the way. I will go to the funeral, and his entire family will fall prey to L’ombra.”

As I’m talking, I move toward the door. When I’ve finished, I twist the knob and open it. “Now, it’s my day off and I have a lot to accomplish. I plan to find Roman and give him more of what he truly desires. He’s already eating out of my hand. Besides, you are far too busy of a man to worry about the fine details.”

I think I may throw up from nerves now. I’m not just stuck between a rock and a hard place. I’m uniquely positioned between a man I love deeply and a man who’s going to take my life if I don’t do my job. And that’s worse than any rock or hard place.

“Good, well I’ll be off. I’m waiting for the news it’s done. It will be a happy day for our family.” Mickey pats my cheek as he walks out. It’s a demeaning act and I hate it, but I don’t shy away. How the fuck I’m ever going to do this job is beyond me. I cannot—no, will not—kill Roman. Not unless he leaves me no other choice. I don’t want to choose between him and our child, but if I confess to who I am and he threatens my life, I’ll have no choice. That is the only way Roman Gusev will ever die by my hand.

“Goodbye, Michaelo,” I mewl, his given name rolling off my tongue like honey. He winks at me, and I feel a bit of bile rising in my throat. If his wife weren’t up his ass all the time, he’d have me bent over the hood of his car; I’m certain. Lucky for me, she’s a viper and a half and that keeps my body sacredly mine.

I wait for his men to follow behind him and then lock the door and deadbolt it. The pressure I’m under terrifies me. I don’t have any choice but to play along, and I have no way out. Mickey will hunt me down and slaughter me and my unborn baby if I don’t follow his orders. My only hope will be to feel Rome out, see if he knows anything about my true nature. And then, to trust my life with him when I tell him I’m having his child and that I’m the assassin who has threatened his family. I only pray it works.

9

ROME

I’m here again, sitting a block away from the nightclub watching the back door. Only, this time my brother tagged along. Leo, sent by Dominic to watch me, uses the binoculars with night vision to keep an eye on the dark entrance. We haven’t seen any movement so far, but our intel says this is the most likely place to find our target. We believe it’s his home base and I am not coming off it until I figure this out.

It's a rainy night, the kind where the darkness seems to suck every ray of light in and hoard them all. I don’t relish the idea of having to do my business in a downpour but if it gets the assassin off the street and the threat hanging over my family’s heads removed, it will be worth it. I’m certain that until we settle the score another assassin will always rise in place of the one I take out, but my duty is to follow orders. If Dominic thinks this one is the biggest threat, that’s where I aim.

“You think he’ll show tonight?” Leo holds the binoculars up to his eyes scanning the side of the building. His nostrils flare and his forehead has deep furrows lining it. The silver appearing at his temples relays to me how none of us are getting any younger. It’s time for us to raise a new generation of Gusev men to take over the family business when we meet our inevitable demises.

“He’ll show. The detective gave us solid intel that this was the place to watch. I’ve watched it almost nonstop for weeks now. One of the men going in and out of here frequently is definitely our little “Shadow” and I’m going to find out which one. He just has to slip up.” I pull a cigarette from the pack lying on my center console and the lighter from my breast pocket and light up. Leo scowls at me so I crack my window to give the smoke some place to go.

“Those things will kill you. You know?” He coughs a little and lowers the binoculars to his lap and sits back. “I feel like this is a dead end. If L’ombra is going to show himself, do you really think it will be at a nightclub? And what’s he going to do, walk in and announce his name? How will we tell him from anyone else?”

“Very good points.” I take a long drag from the cigarette, feeling the smoke fill my lungs and ease the craving. Not all my cravings—I crave Bianca tonight too, but this will have to do. “But we’ll know. And besides, Detective Akers knows we will off him and his daughter if he gives us bad intel. He’s onboard, Leo. Just trust the process.”

Leo knows nothing of my job and how I get it done. He’s spent the last ten years of his life stalking his lady friend. His work in the business was reduced to shipping fish and guns. I’m the hitman; I’m the one who knows how to stalk and hunt prey, then clean the mess so no one finds the carcass.

---