~Rylee~
It took me two minutes to wallow in the pain of Kara and Mason’s betrayal. I allowed myself two minutes to be human. I deserved it, the time to cry, to ponder the choices I made, and to berate myself for fantasizing I could find love in this world.
In those two minutes, I had already devised a plan. I have to leave this place and move on with my life. Starting over is what I’m good at, but that doesn’t mean I liked it. I wanted to settle down, tired of moving from one place to another and going back to zero.
I didn’t bother to check everything inside the house. I still had the backpack I carried with me from New York. Going straight into the basement, I pushed the rickety bookshelf left behind by the previous owner, which I turned into secret storage. Behind it was a safe containing a wad of cash in different currencies, passports from different countries, a black pouch, and dad’s Scarce Perrin Revolver.
Without another glance into the house I considered my home, I trudge on the footpath with my backpack hurled on my shoulder, my spirit waning like fading daylight in the afternoon.
The Paradise Hotel in South Beach was the nearest hotel with a vacant suite that I could find. I’d be spending the rest of my day here and be on my way to do a job.
Inside the suite, I threw my bag in the middle of the bed, didn’t waste a second, and called Sloan.
He answered on the first ring.
“Malyshka?” he asked, surprised that I called.
“I need a job,” I said, not beating around the bush.
Sloan’s chuckle was followed by the shuffling of sheets and a woman’s whine, ‘pou pas agápi you?’ [where are you going, my love]
‘Miláo me tin próin kopéla mou, glykiá you,’ Sloan replied and chortled, enjoying the string of Greek profanities thrown at him by his flavor of the week. [I’m talking to my ex-girlfriend, sweetheart]
“That was brutal.” I shook my head, dropping like a log on the bed.
A door opened and closed on Sloan’s end, followed by the sound of waves crashing. “She gave a sloppy deep throat. You set the bar so high, malyshka.”
I rolled over and laid on my tummy. “Mason cheated on me with Kara,” I ignored his comment. Some time ago, Sloan and I were a thing. I wanted more, and he didn’t, so we ended things and maintained a good working relationship.
“Want me to teach him a lesson?” Sloan asked calmly.
“Nah,” I sat up. “A job would be nice, though.”
Sloan sighed. “I’ve got a request for a sweep in Vegas. It’s yours if you want it.”
Sweep meant assassination. For years, I have been on information gathering, handing over my collections to sweepers. “I’ll take it.”
“An asset will meet you in MIA,” sighed Sloan. “I can’t say I’m happy you are back in business, Ry. But welcome home.”
‘Home.’
There was a time when I was Sloan’s best agent, and I guess this was the only thing I’ll ever be good at. This was the only place I’ll ever belong to.
Morning came, and as I got rid of all the unnecessary things from my backpack, the black pouch fell on the carpet.
I picked it up; the zipper groaned as I opened it. Making myself comfortable on the bed, I pulled out the pictures I had kept and collected over the years. Pictures of dad, grandma Tiny, Sloan, Rain, and a few people I’ve worked with at Black Hand Debt Collection Agency, Sloan’s cover up company. A picture of Kara and I was included in the stash, taken on her high school graduation.
She was the only living family I had, but not anymore.
The salty breeze hit my face as I stepped out of the balcony. Pulling out the lighter from my pocket, I set the pictures into flames.
I tossed it in the ashtray by the coffee table. It tipped over, giving me a view of the words written on the back. I still remember writing those words, dreams Kara and I wanted to achieve.
‘To finish college and have a stable job,’ Kara wrote. It was her idea to have them jutted down.
As the photo paper burned, hopelessness seared within me.
‘Be a mom and wife and have a family who’ll love me when I grow old.’ It’s my only dream I have ever had. Why is it so impossible to achieve?
My tears streamed anew. Such a foolish dream for someone as fucked up as me.
I wiped the salty beads rolling down my cheeks harshly, reprimanding myself from breaking down. I am alone. I have no one to lean on. No one will help me pick up the shattered pieces of my heart, so I have to be strong for myself, just like what I had done for the last fifteen years.
~~
Three days later, I stepped inside my target’s Las Vegas penthouse, dressed in a silver spaghetti strapped maxi dress.
Calisto McKay, 37, single, CEO of Calisto chains of hotels. He hosts lavish parties with ecstasy sprinkled on every food and drink. He indulges in a darker side of BDSM. Some of his partners were found dead, if not nearly dead, the morning after they attended his party. He chooses his prey from his guests, socialites, or girls who want to be seen in the spotlight with one of the most eligible bachelors of Las Vegas.
McKay’s MO, he’d record the scenes behind closed doors, blackmail his victim’s family not to file charges. You’d be surprised what these people would do to keep their name spotless, even at the expense of their children’s lives.
He probably pissed off some rich girl’s dad. This sweep cost ten million dollars, but it had to look like an accident, my specialty.
Tonight, I am a spoiled rich kid, a first-timer in Sin City, indulging in one night of freedom from my father, who is in town for business.
I danced and blended in with the crowd, waiting for my target to arrive. I shoved a few gropers away and stomped on their feet when they got handsy at some point. It was getting late. The waiting was getting on me, and the sweaty feel of being squashed in the middle of these intoxicated, rich kids.
Fifteen minutes past ten, I was ready to leave the party and find another way to put my plan into play when McKay finally showed up.
He wasn’t hard to spot. Girls flocked around him like they were bees, and he’s a flower oozing with pollen; no wonder it’s easy for him to find prey.
I eyed him like an owl in the night; the strobe of gold and silver laser lights didn’t make my job easier. There was a booth exclusive for the host and his girls. It was fascinating how he lures his prey. They indulged in a conversation as a group; three men, McKay’s best buds, and seven girls, ages ranging from twenty to twenty-five. He spots the youngest brunette, who can’t even stand straight, as he drags her upstairs.
That was my cue. I shoved the face of the guy I was dancing with. He cursed, stumbling backward, but I was already slipping out of the crammed dance floor.
Included in the bag I acquired from the asset three days ago was a blueprint of this penthouse and a few paraphernalia I could use to finish the job, particularly venoms that are no doubt a product of Rain’s chemical obsession. But for a man like McKay, a painless death is out of the question. I want him to die and feel what his victims felt in his rough ways.
My hands clenched tightly on my side, stepping onto the second-floor landing. The music from the party fades as I trudge down the dimly lit hallway. Moans and groans filled my ears from the rows of bedrooms I passed by.
McKay’s darkroom is on the far end of the second floor. It was soundproof, meant to suppress his victim’s cries while he put to reality his absurd sexual fantasies.
McKay’s darkroom is secured with a code. Taking out my phone, I pulled up Sloan’s decoder app, which he designed himself. Making sure I was still alone, I typed in the code generated by the app. I twisted the knob but an alarm whined from the inside. Since the room was soundproof, only the people inside could hear it, including me.
“Fucking hell,” I cursed under my breath.
This wasn’t included in the information I got.
A ruckus unfolded inside. A woman’s whine and McKay’s cursing.
The rooftop where I was supposed to make an escape is too far. I decided to make a run for the fire exit, but a hand covered my mouth. I balled my fist, gained momentum to elbow McKay’s security, which showed up like Flash on the scene.
He countered my attack using the hand covering my mouth and grabbed my shoulder, spinning me around. My head whirled. I immediately aimed for his throat, but he captured my wrist. My free hand groped for the knife I’ve concealed on my thigh, but he anticipated that too.
Fuck! His movements were so fluid and fast; it was as if he could read my every move.
He had both my wrists restrained above my head in split seconds, his body pinning me on the wall. I groaned, pivoting my hips to hit him in the balls with my knee.
“Don’t even try, mia rosa.”
I froze on the spot, breathing hard. Only one person addressed me like that. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the reticent light, and came face to face with the man that haunted my dreams for months and tormented me when I was awake.
“Klaus,” I swallowed, becoming aware of the delicious sensation of his body trapping me against the wall.
“Miss me?” he smirked, his face so close his masculine musk made my head spin. I’ve forgotten about McKay and my dire need to escape.
“What the fuck is this!?” growled McKay, looking like a beast ready to rip our necks off.
~Klaus~Fucking wildfire.I bit my lower lip, spotting Rylee in that body-hugging silver dress.She’d probably point a gun at my head if she knew what I had been doing for the past two days. She hated being stalked, being watched. It’s ironic since it’s what she does for a living.She blended in with the crowd, swaying her hips in Dillon Francis, DJ Snake’s Get Low booming on the speaker.I stifled a groan as she raised her hands; her skirt rose, revealing those legs for days that had been looped around my waist in my fantasies.Goddamn.My jeans grew tighter as I watched Rylee rocked that body, pushing a few guys who tried to grope her. I restrained myself from going down there and drove them away with my fist.It was hard to be patient. This is why I never liked waiting.McKay came in, and Rylee put her plan into play. I had to keep my distance, knowing that she would feel someone tailing her.I didn’t step in until she triggered the alarm in McKay’s private room. She put up a fight
~Rylee~I bit my lip, fighting back a giggle at Klaus’ comical look. Expressive viridescent eyes blinked once, twice, as though he caught something in them. Capturing this on camera would have been epic. Maybe I could request a CCTV copy from the restaurant.“Come again?” He reached for his glass of wine, sipping more than a mouthful.I did the same, repeating my last statement. “A baby.”He swallowed hard. The gears on his mind shift as he digests what I said. “A baby…” he parroted, sampling the words. “Like one of those little… thing…” he searched for words. “… that cries and whines and forces people to become celibate?”That did it for me. I laughed wholeheartedly, gaining a few eyes from the couples dining close to our table.Our table stood out for its intimate arrangement in the middle of the busy restaurant with that classic vibe. Klaus booked a booth that had a good view of tonight’s jazz performer. The dim light deliberately made the food and my companion appear tempting. Apa
~Rylee~Spending the rest of my night with Klaus was the last thing I wanted to do. I planned to rest, watch some chick flick movie on NetFlix, call Sloan in the morning and be on my way to another job a little later in the day.I knew I was in a limbo of denial, but working kept my mind busy, keeping me sane, keeping me from dwelling on questions such as ‘why is love never enough to make people stay?’ ‘Why did Kara and Mason betray me the way they did when all I did was love them both?’Finding a needle in a haystack is easier than figuring out people’s intent, just like this six-foot Italian lounging in my suite. He occupied the chaise attached to the sectional where I sat. I left the balcony door open, allowing the warm Nevada air inside.His legs were widespread, a forefinger pressed against his lips. He had his body angled so he could stare into my eyes. He shifted, setting an ankle over his knee, and reached for the goblet filled with pinot noir, taking a sip.I changed into mu
~Klaus~ “You want me to what?” Rylee asked, her brows meeting in the middle. I chewed on my lower lip, enjoying the exasperation on her face. It was past midnight. Complimenting the Pinot noir on the coffee table was an old school cheese Pop Up Pizza. The bottle and box were almost empty, keeping us company while I put Rylee up to date on all the events in New York. I lay on the couch while Rylee sat crossed legs on the carpet. She pulled up her red hair into a messy bun. Her suite’s soft, warm light made her sun-kissed skin glow. I’ve never been with a woman who couldn’t care less without makeup around me. Just Rylee. And mind you, she didn’t even bother to change clothes or cover-up. From where I was, I had a good view of her nipples, and her satin shorts did little to conceal that oasis I longed to dive in between her legs. Since we acknowledged what we both wanted out of this agreement, I had been questioning my choice. Twenty-four hours hadn’t even gone by. The sun was not ye
~Rylee~ The balcony curtains danced with the morning air. I’ve scrutinized the teardrop bulbs of the chandelier dangling from the ceiling since Klaus left. I haven’t gotten a wink of sleep. My forehead and nape still buzz with electricity from Klaus’ touch. Last night was something else. Not just the deal we had, but Klaus was different. He was still his annoying self, but I felt this tug in my chest when he kissed me. A small part of me hoped that it wasn’t my forehead he kissed, but my lips. ‘God. I’m in so much trouble. Why had I agreed to be his wife again?’ My phone beeped, interrupting my obsession over that little lingering peck. Rain: You still in Sin City? Rylee: Yeah. You here? Rain: Nope. I’m in L.A. Meet me at The Smashed Pig. I giggled as I typed. Rylee: You are so dead. Can’t wait to see you! Rain: I know. Wear a sexy skirt and go commando. I’d like to grope your pussy under the table and make you come. I rolled over the bed, falling into a hysteria of laughter
~Klaus~ I asked Belinda, my housekeeper, to change the beddings, curtains, and cover of every piece of furniture in my penthouse. I even told her to tidy up even if I knew she cleaned every corner of my place every other day. I was never one to make a fuss when I had visitors or friends coming over. But this is Rylee we are talking about. I felt the need to put my best foot forward. Why? I don’t really know. Ghost was supposed to pick her up at the airport. At the last minute, I told Ghost I’d do it. “Get one of those pick-up signs,” he said, chuckling, tossing over the keys to my 918 Spyder. I groaned. Since Las Vegas, he’d been giving side comments about how I was acting like a schoolboy excited to see his crush the next school day. “Shut the fuck up, Ghost!” I slammed the door so hard, I cringed as my favorite car rattled. “Fuck.” Due to my annoyance, I was way too fucking early in JFK. While waiting for Rylee’s plane to land, my eyes drifted to guys holding flowers, chocolat
How do you find the story so far? I hope you're enjoying it. Mrs. M is the third book in Love For The Wicked Series.1|Devin2|Evan3|Mrs. Martinelli, The Perfect Mafia Wife. My other completed books. ~Dangerous Desire Series~1|Falling For My Husband2|A Game With No Rules Promise Me Jake ~ Teen Romance [A sad love story.] HellBound: The Last Tribute ~ Fantasy/Mystery Romance All of my books are stand-alone. But following the series order would be the best way to read Love For The Wicked and Dangerous Desire. A little note, there are details I had to change while writing Mrs. M from Devin and Evan to fit in for the plot. Lastly, this novel is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are a product of the author's imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.xx5.30.22 And... here we go.
~Klaus~ “I thought you’re on vacation indefinitely, boss,” Kai was first to greet me as I stepped inside the game room at The Dugout basement, a nightclub I own in the heart of Manhattan. Over the years, I’ve grown a liking for building up new businesses or buying ones almost close to bankruptcy, challenging myself on how to make them flourish. I never thought I’d find great use of what once was just a pastime today, just like I never thought I’d be on the brink of losing the mafia. “Who says I’m not?” I smirked, returning Kai’s pat on the back. We mainly use the game room or man cave, as Rylee called it, as a place where we lounge, like a group of friends just having fun. Inside was a sectional with a chase facing two single sofas and a glass coffee table in between. Lining the walls were all kinds of gaming necessities, from wide screens and random gaming posters to arcade machines. Alongside the entry was a bar where Ro and Ash were fixing our drinks. “I heard Rylee finally bum