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Six

Ten years. Ten fucking years of blood, bullets, and brotherhood.

I stared at the ornate ceiling of Don Vicenzo's study, counting the cherubs painted in some long-dead artist's vision of heaven. Ironic, considering the hell that transpired in the room below them.

"You understand what you're asking, Six?" The Don's voice carried the weight of tradition. Of rules written in blood. "La fratellanza is for life."

I kept my expression neutral, years of training holding my features in check. "I understand, Don Vicenzo. But I've served faithfully. I've never asked for anything before."

The Don's fingers drummed against his mahogany desk – the same desk where I'd pledged my loyalty a decade ago. A frightened kid with blood on his hands and nowhere else to go. Now I was his best enforcer, the shadow that kept La fratellanza's enemies awake at night.

"The number six," he mused, "has become quite the legend. Our rivals whisper about it. The police have entire task forces dedicated to it." A wry smile crossed his weathered face. "And now you want to walk away from it all?"

"I'm tired," I admitted, the words tasting like defeat. "I've done everything asked of me. I've protected the family. But I need..." I trailed off, unsure how to explain the hollowness that had been growing inside me.

The Don stood, walking to the window that overlooked his sprawling estate. "You were always different, Six. Not like the others who crave the violence, the power. You treated it like... penance."

I said nothing. He wasn't wrong.

"The others won't understand," he continued. "They'll see it as weakness. As betrayal. You know what happens to traitors."

I did. I'd put enough of them in the ground myself.

The Don turned back to face me, his eyes calculating. "But perhaps... perhaps we can reach an arrangement. One last service to the family."

Hope – dangerous, foolish hope – flickered in my chest. "What kind of service?"

"The Rodriguez merger. It's crucial for our future. The Capo is set to marry their heiress, but there are... complications. Threats. We need someone we trust to ensure her safety until the wedding."

A glorified babysitting job. It should have felt like an insult. Instead, it felt like freedom.

"How long?"

"Three months." The Don's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Protect her, see her safely married to the Capo, and then... then we discuss your retirement."

I knew what wasn't being said. One mistake, one failure, and I'd get my retirement – in a pine box. But it was more than anyone else had ever been offered.

"I accept."

The Don nodded, reaching for his scotch. "Take tonight to prepare. You fly to New York tomorrow." He poured two glasses, sliding one across the desk. "To your last assignment, Six."

I raised the glass, the amber liquid catching the light like blood. One last job. Three months. Then I could finally walk away from the darkness I'd called home for ten years.

If only I'd known then just how dark things would get.

***

Chapter 2

The bass from the club pulsed through my bones as I nursed my whiskey. My last night of freedom deserved better than this dive bar in the outskirts of Rome, but anonymity had become a habit I couldn't shake.

"This seat taken?"

I looked up, straight into eyes that gleamed amber under the neon lights. She was stunning – dangerous kind of stunning that set off every alarm in my head. Dark hair fell in waves past her shoulders, and her dress left just enough to imagination to make a man's mind wander to dangerous places.

"It's your funeral," I muttered, turning back to my drink.

She laughed, sliding onto the stool beside me. "Rough night?"

"Rough decade."

"Sounds like you need a distraction." Her finger traced the rim of my glass, perfectly manicured nail catching the light. "Or maybe just someone to help you forget for a while."

I knew better. Ten years in the business had taught me to spot a setup, a honey trap, an assassination waiting to happen. But tonight? Tonight I was just a man walking away from the only life he'd known, drowning his doubts in cheap whiskey.

"What's your name?" I asked, though I didn't expect the truth.

"Carmen." She smiled, and it reached her eyes. Either she was genuine or a very good liar. In my experience, it was usually both. "And you?"

"Does it matter?"

Her hand found my thigh. "Not if you don't want it to."

I should have walked away. Should have stuck to my rules about strangers and one-night stands. Should have remembered that in my world, coincidences usually ended with someone dead.

Instead, I let her lead me out of the bar, into the warm Italian night. Her hotel was nearby – expensive, discrete, the kind of place that didn't ask questions.

She tasted like expensive bourbon and bad decisions. Her skin was silk under my callused hands, her sighs a symphony that made me forget everything but the moment. For one night, I wasn't Six, the legend, the killer, the man trying to outrun his own shadow. I was just a man, losing himself in a beautiful stranger.

Morning came too soon, sunlight streaming through curtains I didn't remember closing. The sheets beside me were empty, still warm. In the bathroom, the shower was running.

My phone buzzed. Flight reminder. New York. The assignment.

I dressed quickly, leaving before she finished her shower. No goodbyes, no promises, no complications. Just another night to file away with all my other sins.

Twenty-four hours later, I stood in Don Vicenzo's New York mansion, waiting to meet my charge – the woman I'd be protecting for the next three months.

"Six," the Capo's voice boomed across the marble foyer. "Come meet my fiancée."

I turned.

And there she was.

Not Carmen.

Arabella Rodriguez.

Heiress to the Rodriguez empire.

Future wife of the Capo.

And the woman I'd left in that hotel room in Rome.

Fuck.

***

Chapter 3

She recovered first. Of course she did.

"A pleasure to meet you, Six." Her smile was perfect, practiced, revealing nothing of the woman who'd moaned my name in Rome. "I've heard so much about the legendary enforcer."

I kept my face blank, years of training kicking in. "Ms. Rodriguez."

The Capo – Marco Salvatore – wrapped his arm around her waist possessively. A gesture meant to display ownership. My fingers twitched, remembering the feel of that same waist beneath them.

"Arabella will be staying here until the wedding," Marco said. "You'll be her shadow. Where she goes, you go. Understood?"

"Understood, Capo." My voice betrayed nothing.

Arabella's eyes danced with something dangerous. "I'm sure we'll get along famously."

"Six is the best," Marco boasted, oblivious to the tension crackling between us. "He's never failed an assignment."

Until now, perhaps.

"I have a charity gala tonight," Arabella said. "Will you be accompanying me, Six?"

"That's what I'm here for."

She excused herself to prepare, leaving me alone with Marco. He lit a cigar, studying me through the smoke.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" His voice carried an edge. "And soon she'll be mine. The Rodriguez empire along with her."

A warning. A reminder of my place.

"The Don mentioned threats," I said, steering the conversation to safer ground.

"Her father had enemies. Now they're my enemies." He blew out a perfect smoke ring. "Keep her safe, Six. Whatever it takes."

I nodded, already knowing I was caught in a trap of my own making. One wrong move and everything would explode. The Capo would kill me for touching his woman. The Don would kill me for compromising the merger. And Arabella...

Arabella was a wildcard I couldn't read.

She reappeared in a red dress that stirred memories best left buried. Her eyes met mine in the mirror as she fastened an earring.

"Shall we go?" she asked innocently. Too innocently.

I followed her to the waiting car, taking my place in the front beside the driver. In the rearview mirror, I caught her watching me, that same dangerous glint in her eyes.

Three months. I just had to survive three months.

But as she smiled at me in the mirror – a smile full of secrets and sin – I knew.

I was already dead.