Page 5 of Lethal Hearts

After taking a shower, Mikhail put on a pair of boxers and returned to his bedroom. Normally, he slept naked, but he had a guest under his roof.

Mikhail checked under his pillow. Seeing one of his favorite revolvers there, he finally lay down. It never hurt to be prepared, even though a potential enemy or hit man would have to go through layers of his security.

He’d always been a light sleeper, so he immediately woke up the moment he heard the door to his room creaking open. Usually, the women he invited to his place didn’t linger after they both got what they needed. This was the first time in a long while Mikhail invited a woman to stay the night.

Mikhail remained where he was, still as a statue as Harper tiptoed her way to his bed. Sure, her footsteps were muffled but Mikhail could hear her heavy breathing as she drew closer and closer to him. He saw a flash of metal in her hands.

Wrapped around Harper’s small fingers was a pistol, small enough to tuck in one’s dress or purse. He wasn’t even that angry. In fact, Mikhail was pleased his instincts remained sharp as ever. He was more curious to see what she’d do next. Did Harper know she was the only assassin who came this close to killing him?

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. There were tears in her eyes. Her arms trembled with the effort of lifting that gun, telling Mikhail that this hadn’t been her idea at all.

“This is for my father,” she said.

Harper still didn’t shoot, despite the fact her finger was on the trigger. Mikhail decided to end her misery. He leapt out of bed, not bothering with his own gun. Harper cried out and fired. The shot went wild, but thankfully missed both of them.

Mikhail disarmed her, flicking her little toy aside, then tackled her to the ground. She kneed him, but missed his groin completely, thank God. It was easy straddling Harper and pinning her arms above her head. She was a tiny little thing compared to him, after all.

“So, this was your intention all along, little killer,” he said.

At those words, all the fight seem to leave Harper’s body. She stopped struggling. The brave little thing dared to meet his gaze. Points to her for that. Mikhail smiled. This evening didn’t turn out to be a dud after all.

ChapterThree

The jig was up and Harper knew it. She had been given one task, a task Don Juan probably knew she was going to fail. She was nothing but a disposable pawn to him.

Mikhail reacted with almost superhuman speed and reflexes. For a moment there, Harper thought he wasn’t even human. Harper shut her eyes for a moment. She’d heard the terrible tales surrounding Mikhail Konstantin. He didn’t end his enemies quickly. Mikhail made an example of them first.

“No witty comeback, little killer?” Mikhail asked. His mocking tone made her open her eyes. She stared back at him defiantly, because Harper was still a Valenti. She would go down fighting, except she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to keep this bravado up. Once Mikhail started to hurt her for real, would she end up begging him for mercy she knew he’d never give?

“Don’t call me that,” Harper whispered, glad she finally found her voice.

“You said you did this for your father. Explain.”

That certainly sounded like an order but Mikhail didn’t call for his guards yet. He genuinely seemed interested in hearing her out, or was Harper imagining things?

Mikhail could be good at playing mind games. Was this one of them? Give her false hope, only to take it away? All mafia lords were alike, Harper realized with a sinking feeling. Don Juan had played on her emotions the same way.

He made her think she still had a chance to save her father. In the end, Harper only served as fodder. Wind her up, watch her go, that was probably what Don Juan was thinking. Despair sunk into her stomach like a deep stone.

Before she could formulate an answer, she heard the front door opening. Men dressed in body armor and toting guns suddenly rushed inside Mikhail’s room. They probably heard the gunshots, Harper thought. It was truly game over.

“As you can see, I’m fine. There’s nothing to see here,” Mikhail said, his tone dismissive.

“But, Boss, we heard shots,” one of the guards began.“Did she—”

“I’ll handle her personally,” Mikhail interrupted. At that tone, the guards left. Harper heard a door slamming shut a moment later. Once again, she was alone with a madman.

“You were saying?” Mikhail asked.

“I’ll explain if you release me,” she said.

“Do you think I’m a fool?” Mikhail asked with a snort.“Are you aware you’re the first individual who came this close to killing me?”

Another mafia boss would be mad as a hornet but Mikhail had an almost eager, crazed look in his eyes. She swallowed, unsure which she preferred—someone predictable or someone batshit nuts.

“Why do you sound so excited?” Harper asked instead of answering him.

To her surprise, Mikhail let her go. She scrambled away from him quickly, her back hitting the wall. Mikhail picked up her gun by the handle and tossed it so violently against the nearest wall, it fell apart.

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