“Put up your hands,” I say as she moves closer to me.
She recoils. “I just told you that I’m?—”
“Yeah, innocent. I heard you the first time. Put up your hands. I don’t have all night, sweetheart.”
The girl slowly puts up her hands, her confused gaze traveling from me to Patrick and then back again.
So I quickly frisk her, ignoring the way her curves feel under the pads of my fingertips because above all else. I’m a goddamn hitman. Eliminating risk is a big part of my job, and until I can prove otherwise, that’s exactly what she is.
Hot as fuck, but still a risk.
Once my hands have completed their task and no weapons are found, I grasp her hand and pull her close. “I don’t know who you are, but if you wanna live, you’ll keep quiet and run fast. Got it?”
“You can help me get out of here?” Tears pool in her eyes, but there is a flicker of hope in the depths. “You can save me?”
I nod, pulling her close, her fresh floral scent wafting under my nostrils. I drink it in, unable to help myself, and for a split second it clouds my mind.
I grit my teeth. Assassins don’t get sidetracked by perfume, dammit!
I nod toward Patrick. “Go. I’ve got your back. We have to get the hell outta here before someone wanders back here to find Vigo.”
“Wait, I need my bag!” She grabs a small, beaded handbag and I grab her wrist, dragging her out of the office. I don’t bother to check it. Any good assassin would have a weapon on her person. You never know when your purse might get lost or stolen or confiscated by an enemy.
We tear down the hallway, searching for the entrance to the casino floor since that’s where the staircase is located. I pull the girl behind me, checking constantly to make sure there is nobody skulking around behind us, ready to take us out.
Patrick rounds a corner and a shot explodes into the air. I back the girl against the wall, covering her with my body as Patrick fires off a couple of retaliatory shots. A loud thud confirms that he hit something, which is good. Of course, it would be better if there was only one person shooting at us.
I clench the gun in my hand, sliding against the wall to shield the girl when another shot sails past me and lodges itself into the wall. I twist around and fire two shots into the head of the guy who crept up behind us. I throw open the door to the staircase and shove the girl in front of me. She clambers up the steps, practically tripping over her feet to escape the dungeon where she’d been trapped only minutes earlier.
“Patty!” I hiss. “Now!”
He darts across the hallway and disappears into the stairwell with me right behind him.
Jesus Christ, what in the hell did we walk into and manage to escape?
Vigo Kosolov is dead.
The powerful Russian mafiabrigadieris lying on the floor with a knife sticking out of his throat.
I should feel good about the fact that the piece of shit is in hell where he belongs.
But there are too many nagging questions eating away at my brain right now to feel like we dodged a bullet.
And the biggest one is poured into a tight red dress a few steps ahead of me.
CHAPTER5
ANYA
Iscramble up the stairs headed toward the restaurant, not bothering to look back at the two guys who pulled me out of that room.
I don’t need them.
I’m perfectly capable of executing my own escape plan.
I didn’t intend to cower in a corner of that room like some panicked little bitch who’d just witnessed a murder, but in the end, it worked out in my favor.
An easy out if someone happened to come into the room to check on things. They’d have never expected me to jump out and snap their neck, which I most certainly would have done.