Hitman's Lust: a Dark Mafia Romance Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.

  Hitman’s Lust copyright @ 2016 by Sophia Hampton. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

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  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Epilogue

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  Chapter One

  As soon as I heard the door lock behind me, I let out a sigh of relief. I had always known that running a restaurant would come with demands that I wouldn’t always be totally happy to keep up with, but it still sucked when I found myself coming out past midnight, forced to make my way back to my apartment by foot. I couldn’t afford a taxi, and the nearest subway station was a block beyond my place so I couldn’t take the train. It was either go back by way of my scuffed-up flats or crash out at the restaurant, and I spent enough time there as it was. So much, in fact, that it wouldn’t have totally surprised anyone to see me sleeping there.

  I tugged my jacket around my shoulders and felt a shiver run through my body. It was cold out, but that wasn’t the reason. I felt as though someone was watching me. Was I being ridiculous? No, of course, I wasn’t. I was always extra cautious at this time of night. I would usually get one of the guys from work to walk me at least a little bit of the way home, just to guarantee that no one would follow me or think I was a single woman wandering the streets of New York alone. That tended to attract attention, and not the kind I wanted. I’d had enough hassling calls of, “Hey, baby, where you going, why don’t you come party with us?” out of cars that slowed down as they drove by me.

  But I pushed that thought from my head. There was nothing I could do about it - I’d ended up stuck at the restaurant late, dealing with some of the accounts, making sure everything was balanced up for the end of the month. I knew I should have taken it home, but I kept on telling myself it would just take another minute and that it would be stupid to lug all of it across town. It wasn’t like I didn’t stay in late a lot - it was a restaurant, after all - it was just rare that I did so by myself. But part of me was being stubborn, trying to make a point about how brave and strong and not-easily-intimidated I was. And then it was half past midnight, the streets were covered in pooling black shadows, and I was sincerely regretting my decision.

  I tried to keep myself focused on getting home. I wasn’t far away - maybe a ten-minute walk, at the most. I had picked my apartment because it was near the restaurant. I remembered vividly the day I moved in, which was only a month or so after I opened up the restaurant. I had convinced myself that I would be able to stay on at my gorgeous, rent-controlled apartment all the way on the other side of town. But then soon found out that the long hours, plus the taxi ride, plus the walk home was costing me time and money that I was already short enough on as it was. So I packed up all my crap, scoured the rent pages of the paper, and found myself moving into a tiny but comfortable place only a couple of streets away from my new baby, the restaurant. To be honest, as I sank my money into turning the business into a success, I was glad that I didn’t have to worry about paying the rent in my old place, which by now seemed extortionate in comparison. Even if I did miss having neighbors who went to bed before four in the morning every night of the week. And having an excuse not to walk home alone this late at night.

  I had done this a couple of times before, and nothing bad had happened, but there was something different about that night, something I was having trouble putting my finger on. It was quiet, for one thing, and if there was one feature New York couldn’t boast about, it was silence. I glanced around, but couldn’t see anyone at all. And I had a whole lot of side streets to get up before I would be safely in my bed. I glanced around, trying to figure out why the hairs on the back of my neck were standing up, but I couldn’t see anything that might be causing my discomfort. Dudes who harassed women on the street were hardly known for their silent, respectful natures, but for some reason, the quiet was making me more uncomfortable than ever. I guessed because I knew it meant there would be no witnesses.

  I did my best to keep to the well-lit areas, but there was only so much I could do to keep myself safe. I grabbed my keys, wrapping my fingers around them defensively - I’d never had to use them as a weapon before, but I knew I could if I needed to. I wasn’t a pussy. I looked around again, this time almost challenging the city to throw something at me. I would fight. I held my chin up high, and walked faster, trying to look confident and unstoppable. That was always what they taught you, wasn’t it? Walk in well-lit streets, move quickly, and look in control. And if you hadn’t been doing any of that, they would demand to know why because, of course, if you had been following all the dumb little rules they laid out for this crap, no one would have come near you. That was how these things worked, apparently, and even when you did everything right people would find something for you to have done wrong. Why were you walking that late at night? What were you wearing? How-

  Before my brain had any more time to vanish down that path, I heard voices a few feet away. Male voices. I froze for a second, and then kept on walking, but it had been enough to catch their attention. I heard footsteps behind me - I couldn’t tell how many, but they certainly outnumbered me. I didn’t dare look around and hurried my pace in an attempt to get away from them. But they were closing in, shortening the distance between us, and before I knew it, one of them was in front of me.

  “Hey, hey, why you running away from us?” he asked, his words an attempt to soothe me but his voice spiky, harsh and angry.

  I didn’t answer and instead ducked my head and tried to walk by him. But he thrust his arm out, pressing his hand against the wall opposite us, blocking my way out. I looked up at him, my eyes pleading, but his face was covered by a black mask. I couldn’t even see his eyes - it was as though his humanity was completely cut off from me. I tried to duck under his arm again, but this time, he grabbed my wrist and backed me up against the wall. I pulled my keys out from my pocket, brandishing them in his face in an attempt to defend myself, but he brushed them out of my hand as if they were nothing. They clattered uselessly to the floor with a dull metal clang.

  I felt my throat tighten as the reality sunk in… this was happening. I wasn’t sure what yet, but it was something, and I was fucking terrified. I was frozen to the spot, my eyes
darting around as I looked for a way out but I couldn’t find one anywhere.

  Suddenly, another man appeared behind the first one. I was right, there had been more than one person pursuing me. My chest tightened, and my breath began coming in ragged bursts as I stared at the two of them. I had no way of getting out. Even if one of them were to lose focus for a second, the other would surely cover his back. The other one had a black mask on too, and I wondered how long they had planned this. Was I their target, or was I just unlucky enough to be the first person they stumbled upon?

  “Wh-what do you want?” I managed, trying to keep my voice steady. I didn’t see him smile, but I could have been certain that the second man had a grin on his face - I could hear his saliva as his lips parted and pulled away from his gums. I shuddered at the sound.

  “Is it money? I don’t have any on me, but-” I continued, but the first man held his hand up in front of my face, silencing me.

  “It’s not money,” he spoke coolly.

  “Then…?” I had been trying to ignore the inevitable, but I knew what they were here for. What else did two masked men capture a woman for late on a Thursday night? As soon as it became clear where they were going with this, I felt a tear leak out the corner of my eye. My mind flashed on to Lia. It had happened to her, and…

  But before I had a chance to linger on that thought any longer, the first man began attempting to peel off my clothes. I was wearing a button-up shirt, and he was fumbling with the buttons, his big hands too indelicate to manage much. I half-heartedly tried to push him off me, but all my strength had gone, turned into fear and the urge to survive. I didn’t know what kind of weapons these guys might have had on them; I didn’t want to die. I stared at a space just above his head, trying to remove myself from the situation as best I could. I closed my eyes, and that was the last thing I had remembered before it happened.

  When I opened them again, the two men were on the ground, lying at my feet, both groaning. One of them had an arm pointing in the wrong direction, while the other was dragging himself along on what appeared to be a broken leg. My jaw dropped. I had blacked out from the fear; unable to tell how we had gotten to this point. Surely, this couldn’t have been me?

  I looked around, and my stomach surged as my eyes fell on a man standing a few feet away. He was observing me from underneath a black mask, similar to the ones the men who had attacked me were wearing. But his mouth was exposed, and I could see it was set into a hard line as he strode towards me. I took a few instinctive steps back, and he slowed his pace, holding his hands up.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle, as if he were coaxing a wild animal.

  I pressed my back up against the wall, trying to put as much space between him and me as I possibly could. I was still terrified, my body still painfully tense from the adrenalin coursing through my system. He stood where he was, not trying to get any closer. I slowly leaned forward, crouching down so I could pick up my keys off the ground. As soon as they were in my hand, I jumped back, my heart racing. But the man still didn’t move.

  “Who are you?” I demanded, but he shook his head.

  “Doesn’t matter.” He shrugged. “Are you okay?”

  “I-I think so,” I looked down at myself. My shirt was a little askew, but other than that, I couldn’t see any specific damage. I was shaken, but luckily, it didn’t look like those guys had managed to cause any serious injury to me.

  “Can I take a look?” he asked, and I nodded. He moved towards me quickly, catching me by the arms and examining my face and my body. He seemed practiced, and questions raced through my mind. Why had he done this? What did he have to gain? And more importantly, where did he learn to inflict that kind of damage on people? I looked around and saw that my assailants were still lying on the ground, but neither of them was moving. Were they breathing? I honestly couldn’t tell.

  Suddenly, with the rush of emotion that was coursing through me, my heart swelled with relief, and I caught his face between my hands. He looked up at me, and before I had a chance to think it through, I pressed my lips against his.

  The kiss was short, but it sent shivers down my spine. Or maybe it was just the fuckton of emotion I’d had to deal with in the preceding half-hour. But it felt good to be in control of what happened to me once again. He pulled back after a couple of seconds, and I could have sworn I could see a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

  “Sorry, I-” I began, but he cut me off.

  “It’s okay,” he replied, taking a step back from me. “You look fine. Have you got someone you can go be with?”

  “Um, yeah,” I replied. “I have a friend who lives near here.”

  “You want me to walk you there?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’ll be okay.”

  “Call the cops.” He nodded at me, and then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. I stared at the space where he had just been. What the fuck? Where the hell had he vanished to? I realized I was shaking and I wasn’t sure if it was because of the cold, the kiss, the man, or something else. As I looked at the two men on the ground in front of me, I pulled out my phone and dialed 911.

  Chapter Two

  I had sworn to myself that I would never do it again. It wasn’t my scene anymore. It hadn’t been for a long time. I had seen enough shit over the years to keep me sated for the rest of my life; to scar me for life, if I was that way inclined. But when I saw them there, I knew I couldn’t just walk away. It wasn’t in me to abandon someone like that, someone innocent, someone at risk. No matter what I promised myself.

  I had made good money doing what I did. Good enough that I was able to retire good and early, get out of the game while I was still ahead and not at risk of catching a prison sentence or worse for what I had done. I saw a lot of people playing at assassin, and it rarely ended well - almost anyone could kill a guy if they got it in their head to do so, but not many people could deal with the clean up and get away in time to keep themselves out of jail. I’d seen a lot of people fail over the years - end up in prison or killed for not covering their tracks enough. I had always sworn that would never be me. If I was going down, it was because I had encountered someone who was just better than me at all of this, not because I had fucked up in some minute way and ended up with some asshole on my tail.

  But either way, that had been a long time ago. I was out of the game, no matter how cliché it sounded, and I had no intention of going back and getting myself all mixed up in that again. But what kind of man would I be if I had let some poor innocent get harassed and probably worse by a couple of assholes?

  I nearly walked straight past them. It wasn’t until I heard the tinkle of keys hitting the ground that my head snapped up and around to try and catch sight of what was going on. Some habits were hard to break, and turning off my hyper-vigilant brain at this time of night was one of them. I saw it then - the two guys with her backed up against a wall. Shit. Well, I couldn’t just walk away from this.

  I reached into my pocket, wondering if it would still be there. And it was. Old faithful. I pulled on the mask, letting it come down over my eyes and nose but leaving my mouth exposed. I had so many of these damn things that I often felt as if I would never get rid of them, but hey, at least my laziness at spring cleaning led to some luck down the line.

  I approached slowly, and as I went, I was reminded of all the times my sisters had put up with something similar. They were all pretty girls growing up, and that often led to no shortage of men following them down the street bellowing obscenities after them. Sometimes these men needed a little seeing to, and I was all too happy to provide it. That’s what the scene reminded me of - all those times with my sisters when I’d been unable to stop myself because the thought of one of these guys laying hands on my family without their permission made me sick. I never did anything too terrible, just a little fight here and there, but it was enough to ensure that when my sisters did get attention, it was on their terms.
I couldn’t abide by assholes, and these guys were not getting a pass just because it was late and all I wanted to do was get home and go to bed.

  Just as they reached out to unbutton her blouse, I tapped one on the back of the shoulder.

  “Hey, buddy,” I commented, feigning some cheer. Sometimes they would back off just at the sight of another person - it was worth a shot. “What’s going on here?”

  “None of your fucking business, that’s what,” he shot back and turned back to the woman. She was staring blankly into space, and I wondered if she even noticed I was there.

  “Come on, man, she doesn’t look very into this.” I gestured towards the woman in front of us, and the man shrugged me off once again.

  “Why don’t you just fuck off?” he snapped and pulled a knife. He waved the blade at me randomly, and I could tell that he’d probably never used one before.

  “Are you threatening me?” I asked, keeping my cool.

  “Just fuck off!” he repeated, and I could hear the panic in his voice. He expected me to have run off by now, but I was still standing there.

  “You know, I don’t think I will.” Before he had a chance to react, I grabbed his arm, twisted it around, and wrenched the knife from his fingers. I cast it aside and went to work.