Page 10 of Lethal Hearts

Harper eyed the inconspicuous black Honda parked at the entrance of the alleyway, which effectively blocked her only exit. How convenient, Harper thought drily.

The man who emerged from the driver’s seat was lean, but muscular, dressed in a driver’s uniform complete with suit and hat. He was tall and had dark hair and eyes. He didn’t smile when he spotted her but Harper knew he was looking her over. Harper moved her gaze to the back of the car, which contained a hooded figure.

“My father first, before I show you the body,” she insisted.

The hit man gave her a contemptuous look, but nonetheless opened the back door of the car and bodily dragged his passenger out. Hearing her father’s cry of pain, she rushed toward him. The hit man had taken off his hood, revealing her father’s brushed and puffy face.

Harper froze when the hit man withdrew a gun from his jacket and pointed it at her. Time froze. Harper thought this was it. Mikhail was certain Don Juan would off her then her father. It was a tidy and efficient way of cleaning this mess, after all.

“The body?” The hit man asked.

“Front seat of the car. You won’t miss it. I left the car door open,” she said. The hit man nodded, then left her alone with her father. Harper breathed a sigh of relief. She had done her part, now it was Mikhail’s turn.

Chapter Five

When the hit man pointed that gun at his future wife’s head, Mikhail nearly broke character. Gut instinct told him to wait a few seconds longer. Harper had this. She was made of sterner stuff.

His gambit played off, because Harper and the hit man exchanged a few words. Then the hit man was making his way to Mikhail’s prone body. Finally, the man had taken his attention away from Harper and her father. Now it was onto the next stage of their operation.

Mikhail was tempted to reach for the gun in his belt but any sudden moves might alert the hit man that nothing was what it seemed. Mikhail knew this hired killer by sight and from rumors.

Many mafia families had hired Ray Strong to take out their trash. Ray had earned himself a reputation for never failing a job. He was also incredibly expensive. That told him Juan Garcia really wanted this job over and done with. Mikhail never used the man himself, because he only trusted his own people. Mikhail would never hire outside help unless it was necessary.

Ray Strong might be a problem. It was a hard truth to admit. Mikhail had created his own mountain of corpses to remain at the top of the underworld, but Strong was a different monster, one who had been trained from birth to end lives. Either way, the plan was underway. Mikhail would simply have to improvise.

“You’re not dead,” Ray finally said under his breath. That was Mikhail’s cue to stop playing dead.

Before Ray could aim his gun at Mikhail, he moved. Trying to outshoot a hit man wasn’t a wise decision. It was better to catch Ray off-guard.

Mikhail used his entire weight and threw himself at the hit man, tackling Ray successfully to the ground. Mikhail’s first instinct was to disarm the killer. Without Ray’s gun, Mikhail would be able to even the odds. He punched Ray in the face once, then twice.

The hit man became disoriented but it only lasted for a second or two. It was enough. Mikhail knocked the gun from Ray’s fingers. The weapon clattered on the ground. Mikhail kicked it to one side.

He knew his men were nearby but they wouldn’t be able to make a clear shot while he was in the way. Ray shoved his knee into his solar plexus. Pain exploded and Mikhail tried to roll away from him.

Ray pulled out a knife from a hidden stealth in his arm. The blade was as long as the assassin’s forearm. Of course the killer would arm himself with secondary weapons.

Ray stabbed right where Mikhail’s face had been. Mikhail only managed to avoid it by twisting his head to one side. The hit man tried again. This time, the blade sunk into his left shoulder. White-hot pain exploded in his head.

“Mikhail!” Harper cried out in alarm.

Her scream woke his entire body up. Adrenaline sang in his veins. Mikhail felt unbelievably alive and strong.

“I’ll need to charge Don Juan double—no,triple—for this fucking messed-up job,” grumbled Ray under his breath.

The hit man sounded more annoyed than angry. Ray still believed he’d do them all in and cash in his paycheck.

“You won’t succeed,” Mikhail told him simply.

Using all his strength, he pushed Ray off him. Mikhail partially succeeded. It was then one of his men slipped into the narrow alleyway, gun drawn. Ray looked from Mikhail, his man, then his gaze settled on Harper, still tending to her father.

Mikhail recognized the look in the assassin’s eyes. Here was a man standing on the edge of desperation. Ray was bound to resort to something crazy. The hit man dropped his knife and lunged for his fallen gun with both hands.

Mikhail charged him but Ray seemed to be accepting it so Mikhail failed in taking him down. Ray had the gun in his hands and he pointed it right at Harper’s head.

Fury Mikhail had never known filled him to the brim. He snatched Ray’s knife from the dirty street. Mikhail had never been aware of moving so fast his entire life. He drove the knife deep between the hit man’s shoulder blades. The pain made Ray cry out. The gunshot went wild. Harper screamed. Mikhail pulled the knife out again and grunting, shoved it in the back of the assassin’s skull. Ray Strong was dead.

“Get rid of this body,” he told John, the associate who blindly rushed to the scene. John’s arrival might have messed up everything but Mikhail couldn’t punish the man for trying to save his life.

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