Darkest Sins (Perfectly Imperfect #9)

Knowing their moves gives me an advantage, but only if the appointed cutthroat doesn’t get wind of my being here. If he or his buddies spot me, they’ll change their tactics. There’s no way I’m gambling with Nera’s life. If the motherfucker is already in position, Nera’s safe as long as she remains in the study. That means I can leave the lead assassin to be dealt with last, after I dispose of the other three.

I spy one of the surveillance guys near a thick oak tree, standing guard close to the main entrance. Using the shadows as cover, I creep along the mansion wall until I’m right behind him, getting the drop on the man quickly and wrapping my arm around his neck. A moment later, a tiny crunch echoes over the silent struggle, confirming I’ve fractured his cervical vertebrae. I lower the body to the ground and head toward the rear of the house, once again hidden among the darkness like the demon cub claimed me to be.

Another Sicilian is crouching by the garden feature of some sort, close to the back door of the house, his head is tilted up. I follow his line of sight and spot the third team member scaling the drainpipe toward the roofline. The moment the climber disappears over the edge, I charge the man on the ground. We both end up in a drained fountain from the force of my onslaught. I slam my palm over his mouth and bury my knife in his guts, all the way to the hilt. The man keeps struggling, his hand reaching for my throat. I shove the blade deeper into his flesh and twist the handle of my Ka-Bar when pain explodes in my left side.

“Die, you fucking rodent,” I growl as I withdraw the knife and thrust it up through the underside of the guy’s chin into his skull. I don’t bother checking the wound on the side of my torso where the bastard cut me, just hustle after the man who made it onto the roof.

The skin on my palms burns as I grip the ice-cold metal downspout tucked into the L corner of the mansion. It takes me less than a minute to reach the summit, but it seems like hours of precious time. Time I don’t have to waste. Painful pulsing just above my hipbone tells me that the damn Sicilian got me good, but the injury is meaningless to me. I will fucking crawl if I have to. No one is harming my cub today. Or ever. For as long as I live. Grabbing the edge, I haul myself over the lip and onto the roof.

The moon is hidden behind the clouds, but a few stray beams penetrate, illuminating the black-clad figure crouching on the far end, attention focused on the lawn below. Whereas I was just thanking my lucky stars for the flat roof, now I’m cursing the fucking thing. There aren’t any obstacles in the way for me to sneak up on the son of a bitch. With little choice, I take out my gun and screw on the suppressor. As the man raises his hand to his earpiece, likely to contact the rest of his team, I aim at the back of his head and send the bullet fly. The guy jerks forward and sprawls facedown on the surface of the roof, hanging partway over to the edge.

I feel the blood seeping through my shirt as I approach the body to check for pulse. The stabbing pain in my side gets worse when I jump to the balcony below. The not-too-wide deck happens to be right above the study where I saw Nera earlier. The light spilling from the ground-floor room turns off just as I throw a look over the railing. My time is up, yet I still haven’t disposed of the last hitman. Fuck. With a gun in hand, I open the balcony door and slip inside the room.

It takes me a moment to get my bearings since I’ve never been inside Nera’s home. However, I’ve scouted the grounds and looked at the building blueprints the night I returned to Boston, so I have a general idea of the layout. Her rooms are on this upper floor, but face the other side of the property. With no time to waste, I sprint across the living room cluttered with pieces of fabric and some other shit, and step out into the hallway. There’s only one other door, right in front of me.

“Yes, I’m done for tonight, Timoteo.” The ring of Nera’s words reaches me from the downstairs hallway, echoing through the stillness. “The capos will be here at ten tomorrow. Please make sure the conference room is ready.”

A jolt of pain rips through me, but this time, it has nothing to do with the wound in my side. It’s been more than three years since I’ve heard her voice. Or got this close to her. No more than a few dozen feet separate us, but it still seems like every inch of that distance is a mile long. I squeeze my eyes shut for the briefest moment, just a heartbeat of time to commit the melodic sound to my memory, then ready my gun and open the door to her private rooms.

The suite is dark, but after all the time I spent confined in the pits of Mendoza’s dingy hangar, my eyes are well used to seeing in low light, so it takes me less than ten seconds to confirm my prey isn’t in the room. I don’t even need to do a thorough check of the vicinity. In my line of business, the hunter tends to develop an instinct for feeling out the surroundings. From the moment I stepped inside the room, I knew I was alone in there. But not for long.

The glass door leading to the balcony is slightly ajar. That’s the point of entry I would use. Since I eliminated the man on the roof, my guess is the would-be killer will try to climb up from the lower level. I walk across the carpeted floor and take a seat onthe recliner positioned near the bookshelf. It has a direct view of the exterior deck through the open drapes.

Just for a minute, the eerie silence envelops me. Then, the muffled sounds of heels on the hardwood floor echo through the hallway I crossed moments before, getting closer. Leather squeaks as I squeeze the armrest with my free hand while a storm rages within me. Facing my cub once again was never the plan. Witnessing the hate and condemnation in Nera’s eyes once she finds me here will be torture worse than anything I’ve ever experienced. I don’t care. There’s nothing I wouldn’t endure for her. I survived letting her go. I’ll survive this, too. At least long enough to make sure she’s unharmed and safe.

The suite door opens, and Nera steps inside. For a moment, I forget how to breathe, too shaken by the sight of her. Her proximity. My twinkling star, one that shines even in the darkest gloom. I watch her as she walks to the center of the room and looks around as if trying to peer into the shadowy corners. As if she had done so many times . . . before.

“Long time no see, tiger cub,” I rasp.

Nera becomes so utterly still.

I take a deep breath and turn on the lamp beside me. My God, she’s even more beautiful than I remembered.

“I thought you were dead,” she chokes out, a mixture of shock and hurt written all over her face.

I was. Still am. Dead. I’ve been dead most of my life. The only time I’ve actually felt alive is for that short period I spent with her. All the days before and after, are a fucking wasteland.

“Did you miss me?” I ask and regret it the instant the words leave my mouth. Even in low light, I can see her muscles tenseup. I’m just making this harder on both of us, but I can’t control myself, it seems.

“It’s hard to miss a man whose name I don’t even know.” Nera’s voice is barely audible but I detect the slight trembling in it. The hurt in her expression is plain to see now. But I notice something else. A glistening in the corners of her eyes. I must be the most selfish son of a bitch on earth, because seeing her tears ignites the fire in my chest, and I feel a tiny spark of life returning into my dead existence. Maybe she did miss me. A little bit.

Fighting the gravitational pull of a star, my eyes shift away from Nera’s face and zero in on the movement behind her. A hand, clad in a black leather glove, grips the balcony railing next to a grappling hook fastened over the edge. The last of the hitmen has finally decided to show up.

“I missed you, too, cub,” I whisper. Raising the gun, I aim at the man now standing on the balcony. “Do not move.”

PART 2

Present

Chapter 30

Present day

The Leone Villa, Boston

The sound of breaking glass and something large crashing to the floor explodes behind me. My heart is beating so fast it feels like it will burst out of my chest, but I remain perfectly still. He told me not to move, and when it comes to my safety . . . I trust him completely.

“That’s the last one,” my demon says and slowly lowers his weapon. “Call your security and tell them to sweep the property and pick up the bodies. There’s one at the fountain in the back garden. One by the oak tree close to the front door. And another on the roof.”