“I’ll be right back. Try to stay out of trouble,” I said as I excused myself from the table and headed to the back rooms.
Showtime.
Chapter 3
Dani
“Mmm,Marco,thatfeelsso good,” I purred as I ground down on his lap. I straddled him as he gripped my hips with his hands, bringing my scantily clad body down as close to him as possible.
As far as my targets went, Marco was undoubtedly the hottest guy I’d ever taken out. He was fit and muscular, tall and confident, and I didn’t hate the thought of licking my way down his dark skin.
He bit my neck, close to my camouflaged hickey, and peppered kisses down my throat to my cleavage.
“Just wait until my tongue’s buried in your–”
A gunshot cut off his sentence as his head exploded in front of me, his blood splattering my face. I screamed as I jumped off his limp body and he slumped sideways on the couch.
I wiped my face frantically, my heart racing as adrenaline pulsed through my veins. “Jesus, Kane! What happened to waiting for my signal? You could’ve killed me.”
“You know I’m a good shot,” Kane said as he slid his gun back into the holster on the inside of his jeans. “I have shit to do. I didn’t have time to wait for yoursignal.”
“You just didn’t want me to have any fun,” I scoffed. “His dick is huge, by the way. Such a waste.”
The scene was a mess. Poor, dead, big-dicked Marco ruined a perfectly good couch with the crimson blood pouring from the hole in his head. Definitelynotour usual protocol.
I was supposed to do my thing and once I was ready, Kane would come in and take care of the rest. Whatever he did with the targets, well, that was his business. Sometimes I would help with torture, but for this situation, I wasn’t expecting to deal with the result.
Not that blood and gore bothered me, but it was weird and out of character for Kane.
“You’ll get over it,” Kane smirked, pushing his tattooed fingers through his thick, black hair. You’d never guess he just shot a guy in the head.
“How the fuck are the cleaners going to take care of this? They were expecting a clean kill.”
“They’ll figure it out. We pay them enough to be creative.”
The Moretti’s cleaning team was the best in the business of course, and they could make even the most gruesome murder look like an accident. It was the only way we got away with what we did. We couldn’t have anything traced back to us. The cleaners would usually take the body and stage it at a different location. It was somebody else’s problem after that.
“What the fuck happened here?”
That voice made me cringe. I heard it enough to last the rest of my life.
I turned around to see Dad in all his glory, red-faced and fuming mad, wearing a suit that cost thousands of dollars, his dark hair slicked back like he was in a mob movie from the 90s. He was accompanied by my brother Dominic, who was like a younger, slimmer version of our dad.
Except he only wore black jeans and t-shirts and didn't look like he bathed in hair grease.
“What’s it look like?” I deadpanned, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Did you get anything out of him?”
“I was about to…” I grinned. Sexual innuendo and me and had a long-standing relationship. We were great friends.
“You stupid whore. This was supposed to be a clean hit and it’s a fucking mess!” Dad threw his hands in the air like this was the biggest catastrophe we’d ever faced. He looked for any excuse to call me names and yell.
“Dad–” Dominic tried to cut in.
“Well thisstupid whoredid what I was supposed to. I got him back here, didn’t I? Don’t worry about it.“ I narrowed my eyes, playing with fire. It was only a matter of time before he snapped and hit me. It was his MO.
Most daughters who stood in front of their fathers wearing almost nothing would feel uncomfortable and a little grossed out–or at least they should. I was used to it. This shit happened all the time. He was usually in the crowd while I danced, making sure I didn’t fuck up his precious plans.