As soon as I hear the over-the-top moans from his mistress, I smile and grip the edge of the building, slowly lowering myself down. Most people look at my height and muscular body and assume I’m not very agile, but they’re wrong. I’m actually a pretty nimble motherfucker, and once I’m hanging over the side of the hotel, I close the short distance to the balcony, landing without any noticeable sound.
Staying crouched low, I keep myself hidden and take in the scene before me. His redheaded mistress is riding him hard. Her large, fake tits are bouncing like they’ll never stop, and I’m happy the man will at least get to go out with a view. Unfortunately for her, she decided to accompany him on this little impromptu visit. If I was a nice man, I’d let them both climax before I kill them, but I’ve never been accused of being nice.
With my gun in hand, I creep into the room, grabbing a throw pillow from one of the chairs on my way. They’re so into what they’re doing that they don’t even realize what’s happening until it’s far too late. One sharp push sends the redhead on top of Matteo, and a second later the pillow is against her back and I’m firing the shot that will kill them both. The pillow and the silencer on my gun suppresses the sound enough to keep it in this room. The bullet went through her heart, killing her instantly, but I can hear Matteo’s wheezy breaths as he fights it. I lean closer so he can see me.
“No hard feelings, Matteo. It’s just a job.”
He’s trying to glare at me, but he’s too weak to pull it off.
“You died fucking, man. No better way to go,” I tell him, trying to make him feel a little better about the situation. The hate in his eyes lets me know it’s not working. I laugh and put the pillow over his face, knowing I don’t have time to fuck around with this. I’m guessing his mistress is known for being a loud lover. A few minutes of silence and the guard right outside the bedroom door is going to get curious.
Pulling the pillow away, I make sure he’s dead and then tuck my gun away and run for the balcony. I lower myself down to the suite below and then do it one more time, landing on the balcony of the room that I reserved for the night under the name Mr. and Mrs. Hyde. I slip through the French doors that I left unlocked and close them behind me before pulling back the thick curtains. Turning on a light, I strip out of my black clothes and peel off the leather gloves. I take a quick shower and change into a pair of grey joggers and a white T-shirt. Lounging on the big, comfy bed, I put in an order for room service. I’ve worked up an appetite and a medium-rare steak will really hit the spot.
I send Ivan and Vadim a thumbs up and pick up the remote, surfing through the channels while I wait. I’ve just found a good comedy when my food arrives. A delicious meal, a funny movie, and an easy two million in my account—not a bad night at all.
I sleep like a baby and wake up a little after sunrise. After another shower and more room service, I send a text to Vadim, asking him how things are looking.
Not good, man. The Faretti family is going crazy. Enzo has men all over the city. There’s a few outside your hotel. Use the employee side entrance. I’ll be waiting.
I grab my bag and leave my keycard on the nightstand along with several hundred dollars. The room is paid for and completely untraceable to me, and I’m sure as hell not going to waste my time checking out when the Faretti family has eyes on the place. Taking the stairs, I quickly head for the back of the hotel, and then walk my ass into the kitchen like I have every damn right to be there. It’s amazing what a nice suit and a pissed-off look will allow you to get away with. Men scurry out of my way while the women sweep their eyes over me in appreciation. I ignore all of them and walk out the door and over to Vadim’s black Audi. As soon as I’m in, he takes off, shaking his head at me while maneuvering us into the flow of heavy traffic.
“What the fuck is Ivan thinking?”
I shrug and put my sunglasses on. “I’m not paid to worry about that. I did my job. That’s all I care about.”
“Enzo is fucking pissed. Matteo was his only son, his goddamn pride and joy. He’s just started a war.”
“Not my problem, and not yours either,” I remind him. “You work for me, not the Teterev Bratva. You and me, we’re on the outside. We go where the money’s good, and right now, Ivan’s the top payer. I’ll take out who he wants me to take out, and all the other jackasses can worry about the war on the ground.”
Vadim laughs and drives me to my house. I’m a paranoid bastard, so I’ve gone through a lot of trouble to make sure no one knows this is where I live. Vadim is the only person who knows my address. To everyone else, the large house on the hill with the private beach is owned by sixty-year-old Thomas Skylar. He’s a retired investment banker, never married, no kids. I have enough land to ensure my privacy and more security cameras than all of London. If anyone steps foot on this property, I’ll immediately be alerted to it. I also have four very well-trained Belgian Malinois who are very aware that they’re allowed to bite anyone I haven’t told them is okay. So far the no-bite list includes one name: Vadim.
“You coming in?” I ask when he pulls down the long driveway and stops in front of the four-car garage.
His eyes scan the yard, and I know he’s looking for my dogs. He’s scared to death of them. I laugh and smack his shoulder.
“They’re not going to bite you. They’ve been told not to.”
He scrubs a hand over his light beard. “Yeah, you say that, but, I mean, they’re dogs. They could easily change their minds.”
“That’s not how it works. I command. They obey. It’s as simple as that.”
He laughs. “I bet your ego loves the fuck out of that.”
My smile says it all. I do like being obeyed.
Vadim’s quiet for a second, and I know what’s coming before he even says it. He’s the closest thing to a friend I have, and the only person I even halfway trust.
“You took out the mistress?” he finally asks.
“I did. It was unavoidable. They were fucking when I shot them.”
He’s cautious when he says, “Maybe you could’ve waited until she fell asleep.”
My harsh laugh makes him turn his head to me. “I think you might be in the wrong line of work. There’s no place for a conscience in this business. I couldn’t have waited because she was a smoker. As soon as they’d finished, she would’ve walked out onto the balcony and had a cigarette, which is exactly where I was. Even if she hadn’t been a smoker, they could’ve left the room, they could’ve ended up fucking all night, or Matteo could’ve just decided to leave early. I couldn’t risk it. I had the opportunity, and I took it. End of story. She was fucking the mob boss’s son. She knew the risks associated with that. It’s not like he just picked her up for the night and she had no idea who he was.”
“True enough,” he admits.
“Get your head back in the game, Vadim. We still have work to do. There’s another hit scheduled for tomorrow night.”
“Yeah, I’m good,” he assures me.
“Go get laid. It’ll help calm your nerves.”
“It’s eight in the fucking morning. How the hell am I supposed to pick up a piece of ass this early?”