The Hitman's Desire: A Mafia Romance (The Silent Family Book 1) by T. Steele

Author:T. Steele [Steele, T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-04T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Sweat beads on my forehead as John’s hand wanders inside the slit of my dress. We’re still sitting at the table. Belkov, Nick, and Deviant are the other men’s names, which I figured out during everyone’s pissing contest. Oh, and of course, there’s Luca, too, who sits with a shit-eating grin on his face and I hate it. He knows about me and John and it’s enough to make me nauseous.

“Damn, John, are you gonna fuck her right here in front of everyone?”

At Belkov’s words, I’ve finally had enough. I turn to him with the most seductive smile I can muster. “If I wanted him to fuck me, he would have already.”

Belkov laughs loudly, pulling at the collar of his shirt. I can’t see his arms, which are covered by his long sleeves, but I’m willing to bet they’re covered with bruised veins.

I lean back into John, snaking my arms around his neck and sinking my fingers into the soft, thick curls at his nape, and I feel his heartbeat quicken against my back.

“You wanted a show, boys?” I ask, grinning, finally feeling fed up.

I turn my face to John’s, angling my mouth up to his and giving him my most possessive kiss. My nerves, for a split second, turn to empowerment. I hate that these disgusting assholes are watching, but I revel in the satisfaction that I’ve rendered them speechless. I keep my eyes open, watching their reactions.

It’s such an absurd thought, but it’s almost as if I’m claiming dominance. Like I’ve taken control for one minuscule second.

John’s big hand rests on my neck, his thumb gliding along my jawline, and I sigh. And then I do close my eyes.

It’s subtle, but I feel John stiffen a bit, and I open them again.

The Russian Family stare at us blatantly. Even Luca looks a bit shocked.

I smile broadly at them all. “I’m not kissing any of you fuckers tonight. Bringing me back here was a waste of time.”

One of Belkov’s men speak up, “I hate to break it to y—”

Then he’s cut off by John’s knife as it impales him through the throat.

I gasp, not quite understanding what happened yet. One minute, John and I were kissing, then the next, I felt John’s arm move and he was throwing a knife at one of the Russians.

“Get down!” John yells, shoving me under the poker table.

I crawl further under the table, and it feels like there's a rock in my chest, blocking my airway. I can’t look away from the dead man lying on the floor.

A gurgling noise brings me back to the present and my breath rushes out of my lungs forcefully, as if I’ve been holding it. When I look over, I see the other Russian on the ground. He’s clutching his mouth, which is continuously oozing blood, and I know John has cut his tongue out.

Everything happened so fast, my brain can barely keep up. Can barely process what’s happening.

John! I’d lost track of him in the chaos.

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