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Trivial Loyalties
“I heard the tale of your epic failure…” Romano poured two glasses of whisky. “I am surprised you got out of that situation without Orlando having your head.”
Sebastian took the glass from him. “I hope it stays that way,” his tone was threatening. Romano raised his hands in surrender. “I won’t say a word. What happened with the men you sent?” “I took care of it,” he exhaled and leaned backward on his chair. “I regret sending out the men to his home.” Romano took a sip from his glass. “You couldn’t help it, Sebastian. You need the art as much as I do, maybe even more. You have never been the type to overlook things like this…” “It wasn’t about the art.” Romano chuckled. “Pray tell then, what was it about?” His jaw ticked as he glared at him. “I wanted to show him he was reckless…” Romano shook his head. “Don’t sweat it, Sebastian. You’re not convincing anybody.” HeRelated chapters
The Mafia Hitman's Captive Is there a sizing?
Elena jumped up in fright as the doors flung open. Orlando rushed in, worry etched on his features. His eyes scanned her body repeatedly.“Are you okay?” he asked as he closed the distance between them.She was taken aback, she merely nodded.He didn’t look convinced as he took in her appearance again. “What is the matter? The security guy at your door came to me…” He trailed off.“I…” She began playing with her fingers and avoided his gaze. “I…, I got my period,” she blurted out and averted her gaze. Her cheeks burned from embarrassment.It took him a moment to understand what she meant. He let out an inaudible sigh. The urgency with which the man had relayed the message, even interrupting a private meeting he was having with Don Russo, had caused him to panic. Well, he couldn’t blame him, he had put him in a chokehold over an open window, twenty stories high and threatened him to make sure Elena had what she needed at all times.
The Mafia Hitman's Captive Look Of Love.
They walked around the store picking out a few items from the shelf; the basket was half full. When they got to the snack bar, he went wild. He threw in every snack he could lay his hand on, from sour to too sweet. She stopped protesting a long time ago because it was futile. He picked out a random jean short, two big t-shirts. Then he went to the underwear section; he stared at the underwear on display on the mannequin and then back at her. At that point, she was convinced there couldn’t be any day more embarrassing than today was. Her face was flushed; she avoided eye contact. He glanced at her and then back at the mannequin. He grabbed a few of them and then pulled her toward the bathroom. He whispered to Andre and handed him the rest of the other items. Andre nodded and walked away, and then they were finally alone.“Thank you,” she said to him as she extended a hand to take the items she needed from him, but he was still holding on. She glanced at the sign that said la
The Mafia Hitman's Captive Prologue
There was a pin-drop silence, a stark contrast from the noise that had just been emanating from the cramped apartment. Of course, the neighbors paid no heed to them like always; they were all sick of the constant fighting. She couldn’t blame them; anyone would be sick of it. Violet stared wide-eyed at the lump figure on the floor, lifeless, blood seeping out unabated, soaking the dingy rug. The face of the man who had swept her off her feet when they first met was now a crushed skull and mangled flesh. Her nose crinkled at the rusty smell of fresh blood. Her dark locks were sticking out at odd angles. A purple bruise was beginning to form around her left eye. The little girls began to cry. Soft cries turned to wails, and her heart broke at the fear in their voices. Nobody deserved to see the sight before them, not young children at least. She pulled the girls in for a hug, wiped the tears from their eyes, and wiped blood from the little cuts on their hands, paying no heed to the blo
The Mafia Hitman's Captive The Charity Gala (1)
A shiny black Cadillac limousine came to a halt in front of the grand Emerald banquet hall. It was an exquisite hall. The valet, a young man, rushed to the car and opened it. Almost immediately, two burly men jumped out of the car, wearing black suits and matching shades, their hawk-like eyes scanning the area for any possible threats. A man who appeared to be in his forties was the next to alight, dressed in a black tuxedo. He smiled as he took one long look around before he turned to the door and extended a hand. A beautiful red-haired lady took his hand. Her emerald green eyes matched the dress she had on. She flashed a wide smile at him. “Shall we, my love?” She nodded curtly and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. He led her to the entrance. The event was underway. Guests were arriving, waiters scurried quickly serving drinks. Soft tunes filled the room from the large piano at the corner of the room. “Tell me why we come to these things again, my love?” he asked under
The Mafia Hitman's Captive Charity Gala (2)
He felt his pants pocket for the small gun fitted with a silencer. He liked the quiet kills, but he couldn’t deny the thrill of killing someone out in the open. He could already picture it; he would walk up to them and maybe do introductions. If he wanted to enjoy it even more, he could make small conversations with them, even get them to laugh once or twice. He glanced at the men, dressed in black suits and sunglasses walking inconspicuously in the room. He wagered he could strike two headshots faster than the time they would need to become aware of what had just happened, leaving him just enough time to blend in with the screaming group of terrified guests. He caressed his gun, or he could make it easier for them and maybe just slip something into their drinks. It might not be an easier death for them; death by a gunshot to the head will be pure mercy in comparison with what this small pill tucked away in the breast pocket of his suit jacket will do to them. It would be easier for
The Mafia Hitman's Captive You're thinking of Her.
Elena nodded her head to the sound of the music blasting from her headset. Her unruly black hair was tied up in a ponytail. She was dressed in spandex pants and a sports bra. She checked her watch for the umpteenth time as she jogged down the deserted streets.She halted as she arrived at the park, taking a moment to catch her breath. Her friend Imani was already there.“About time you arrived,” Imani teased. Her curly hair was pulled back away from her face with an elastic band, and her brown skin glistened with sweat.Elena chuckled. “I am only like a minute behind.”“A minute is enough time to beat a world record,” Imani stretched.“Thankfully, we are not preparing for the Olympics.”Imani laughed aloud. “I just might, you never know.”“That wouldn’t be a surprise,” Elena wiped her face with a towel. “My mind is a little occupied, that’s all.”Imani covered the small distance between them and cupped her face. “You think I don’t know that, love? That’s why it was important to me tha
The Mafia Hitman's Captive Ask Me Anything
“I saw the reports this morning, Orlando. It was on the front page. Nightmare in beach house. Billionaire couple murdered.” He let out a pleased sigh. “My heart did a little leap.”Orlando had an impassive look on his face.Romano stopped in his tracks, almost immediately Orlando halted. He turned around to look at him, a wide pleased smile on his face. Orlando’s expression remained unchanged.His smile widened. This was what he loved most about the boy, a mindless killer, his mindless killer. “Come here, boy,” he opened up his arms to him.Orlando hesitated. It did not matter how many times Romano tried to be affectionate with him; it always caught him off guard.“It is okay, Orlando,” he urged him.He took hesitant steps until Romano closed the distance and pulled him in for a hug. Orlando stiffened.“That was wonderful,” Romano pulled away from him. “You have done a wonderful thing tonight. Come here…”Orlando followed him down the underground elevator until they got to the lounge
The Mafia Hitman's Captive Mother Paris
Richardson watched Elena from the open door of her bedroom. Sun streaks from the tall glass windows cast a glow on her complexion. Her long raven-black hair was tied up in a messy bun, her blue eyes deep in concentration, her brows knit in worry as she stared at the canvas before her. He couldn’t see what she was painting from where he stood, but he was certain it was beautiful. She dipped her brush into a paint palette in her hand and delicately stroked the brush against the canvas.She reminded him so much of Paris, his late wife. It was a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it made her seem so much alive, like she was never dead. He liked to keep it that way; on the other hand, it was haunting, seeing her every day, the awful reminder of the fact that she was dead and how she died. It gnawed at his insides. Paris was an artist, and Elena had gotten the gift from her.They had met one beautiful night in the City of love. He had been there on an important trip. A quick detour he t
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