Chapter Two

NATASHA

“Have you gone mad?” I asked, staring at Luca in disbelief.

He glanced around him, then back at me. “I assure you, I am perfectly sane.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “No you're not. If you were, you would not ask me to do the impossible.”

“Oh please,” He sniffed haughtily. “You infiltrated the navy and killed off three commanders. Nothing is impossible for you.”

“It was two commanders and a colonel!” I defended, my brows furrowed. “And they are nothing compared to Hell, and you know it! No one even knows who he is!”

Luca nodded, pursing his lips. “True. And that is precisely why I'd like to hire you.”

Hire me? Oh yeah, he had definitely lost his mind. “This isn't hiring. You threatened me into working for you!”

The Italian brute shrugged and straightened. “Hiring, threatening, same shit, Vera. Look, I traveled down from Italy to find you. If anyone can uncover Hell's true identity and get rid of him while at it, it's you.”

“I don't want to,” I told him, shaking my head. I couldn't go after Hell. The man shook the mafia world by its foundations. Even the Russian Mafia quaked in their boots at his name. No one knew who he really was. He had a rather unique way of disgusting himself and his work.

And besides, if Hell found me before I found him, I'd be dead. And I could spend a million dollars buried six feet under, could I?

“I don't care about what you want, Vera. I care about what I want. And if I want Hell dead, Hell has to die.” He gritted and tipped his head at his men.

“Why do you even want him dead!” I yelled. “Last I heard, he seems to be doing a fine job rubbing the mafia!”

Luca ignored my question and walked towards the door. His men let go of my arms, stopping only when their boss turned back to look at me.

“You have a week to prepare. You'll be transported to Italy in seven days. That's Hell's base, and it should be easier for you to find him there.”

“I never agreed-”

“You cannot say no, Vera Ivanov. I'll come for you in seven days. If you do not comply or if you try pulling any stunts like trying to flee the country, I have eyes everywhere. Mess up, and I'm afraid your sister will have to join your parents.”

And with that, he was gone. Leaving me in a fucking dilemma.

I resumed at the club the next midnight, my chest heavy as heck. What I had to do was clear. I had to protect Alisa. But she would not be happy. Not in the slightest. She had made me swear I would stop making money as a hit woman. Alisa had never liked my job and frankly, it wasn't a job to be liked.

But it had kept her safe all those years in Russia. And it seemed it was the only way to keep her safe now as well. She was all I had left as a family. I could not live with myself if anything were to happen to her.

“Natasha!” Phil boomed, breaking me out of my thoughts. “Quit daydreaming and go serve my men some drinks in the VIP! Three glasses of bourbon and one glass of brandy.”

“Sure thing, boss,” I yelled in return. I prepared the drinks and headed to the VIP section, trying to clear Luca's words out of my head.

I had a week. A week to think up a better plan or some way to save Alisa and not take up the mission as well.

“Here you go laddies,” I climbed into the VIP section, placing the tray of drinks on their table. “Three bourbon and one brandy,”

Four men sat in the VIP section, getting their faces or other particular parts of their anatomy sucked off by strippers. I didn't stick around long enough to observe their faces, but just as I made to leave, my eyes locked with one of them.

He sat at the head of the table, huge and muscular. His bronze skin glowed under the silvery bulbs in the club, inked with several tattoos across an arm. He wore an armless top that revealed a light dusting of black hair across his upper chest that matched with the locks on his head.

Black wavy locks were slicked back, Italian style. His jaw was razor sharp, giving his face a harsh, sexy look. But the most striking of all the features he possessed were his eyes.

They were green. I could not decipher what shade, but they darkened as he held eyes with me. For a minute, my head felt heady with desire. I could picture humping those huge biceps, grinding against him, inhaling all that muscular musk until I was drunk on him.

I tore my gaze away and forced my legs to move away from him. What the hell was that? I had never felt such intensity from mere eye contact. A little shaken, I walked back to the bar.

I had barely arranged a new set of drinks on the tray when the hair on my neck prickled. I glanced up to see Mr. sexy face standing beside me, those haunting green eyes fixed on me. I had no idea how long he stayed there until I was forced to clear my throat.

“Do you need something?”.

“Yes,” He said stoically, folding his impressive arms. “How much do you charge?”

I frowned, confused. “You pay to the cashier, not me, mister.”

“I see,” He hummed. “I'll pay a hundred dollars. Strip.”

“Excuse me?!”

Of all the dumbasses in the world, this jerk had to approach me! What the hell was he on? And what on earth gave him the damned thought that I was a stripper? I glanced down at my dress. It was a petite little thing that ended a few inches above my knees. It was short, yes, but it certainly wasn't stripper material.

“Two hundred then?” He shrugged, digging his hands into his pocket to bring out fat wads of cash.

“I am not a stripper,” I snapped, feeling infuriated by the second.

And to think I had liked his face. Damn him!

“Every woman has a price,” He said snobbishly, drawing closer to me. Good lord! My knees weakened as his scent teased my nose. “What is your price? Five hundred dollars?”

He slapped the fat wad of cash over my boobs. I drove my fist into his jaw reflexively, shoving him away from me.

“I said I am not a stripper, you bastard!” I yelled, grabbed the tray of drinks and stormed off to deliver them. Some men were just batshit crazy. They pissed you off and then made it seem as if you were a crazy bitch.

I spent the rest of my shift stewing in anger at Luca and the handsome jackass that had demanded I stripped. Why did it seem that all the men I met recently felt they could tell me what to do?!

Perhaps if Mr. Sexy face had asked nicely, I would have considered him. I hadn't been tossed between the sheets in a long while, and he was gorgeous. His manners, however, were like that of a pig. Thankfully, I didn't see him throughout the rest of my shift.

Unfortunately, that meant I had to think about Luca and his threats. Aside from him threatening to kill Alisa, a million dollars was a lot of money. If I lived the same way I did right now, I wouldn't have to work for years.

But at what cost? I wasn't going after an army commander or some politician. It was Hell. If he had so much as a whiff of what I was being sent to do, I'd be dead in an instant.

My shift passed by rather quickly and uneventfully. I almost missed Mr. Sexy face. Almost. When it was six in the morning, I stepped into the bathroom to change into my usual jeans and top. I had walked only a few steps out of the club however, when a hand grabbed my waist and in a flash I was pinned

against the wall.

I glanced up to see familiar green eyes glare down at me, a stupid sexy grin on his face.

“Hello, Natasha."