Wicked Proposal - A Mafia Romance

Bingo.

"Tell me what they hired you to do," I demand. "You have five seconds."

To Boyan's credit, it only takes him two to answer this time.

"T-to clean up!" he blurts. "I was s-supposed to clean her place. Like, wipe down the surfaces, get rid of traces."

"Doesn't sound like a normal cleaning gig to me."

"I needed the money," he sobs. "I c-couldn't be picky. Please, sir, let me go, I promise I won't tell⁠-"

"Name your client. Then I'll consider it."

Boyan's breath stutters. "N-name?"

"Yes," I grit. "I want a name."

"I c-can't⁠-"

"Maksim."

"Please, no!"

I hear scuffling, then another familiar sound-the sweet snapping of bone.

"Arghh! I don't know! T-they never say who they are! They hire through notes and pay cash! I swear, I have no idea who it is!"

They never say who they are.

Boyan's words burrow deep into me.

My blood turns to ice water, carrying a numbing cold through me-the cold of suspicion.

Of memories.

Blood on the floor. Blood everywhere. The smell of gunpowder in the air, the echoes of screams.

White tablecloths stained red, red, red⁠-

"Maksim," I bark, "kill him."

"No! Please, have mercy! I swear I don't know anything! I⁠-"

BANG.

Boyan's body thumps to the ground.

Thank God. Motherfucker was starting to give me a headache.

Moments later, I hear Maksim's voice again. "So? We believe him?"

"I don't know. He pissed me off."

My second barks a laugh. "God, I fucking love working for you. Never a dull moment."

"Good to know employee satisfaction is high."

"I mean, the dental benefits suck, but I digress. Anyway-what about tonight?" Maksim asks, a swift change of subject. "You still going to the event?"

"StarTech's future depends on this deal," I say. "And I don't need to remind you what else is on the line."

"I'll take that as a yes."

I grit my teeth. Maksim's cheer clashes with my mood on the best of days, and today's not a good day to begin with.

Not by a long shot.

"Without Nikita, I'm fucked. Find me a replacement date."

"That's gonna be hard on short notice."

"I don't give a shit." My phone cover cracks in my hand as I clench it tight. "And keep looking for Nikita. I want her found."

Before Maks can answer, I hang up.

Fucking hell.

This had to happen tonight, of all nights?

Plus-ones are a status symbol, as much as a good suit and an expensive watch. And the man I'm meeting tonight, Baldwin, is exactly the kind of shallow bastard to care mostly about the arm candy I bring for him to gawk at.

If I show up alone, this deal's as good as dead.

Meet me there with my date, I type quickly to Maksim.

But as I walk to my car, I realize the problem with that plan.

My car isn't there anymore.

"What the-" My eyes fix on the bright orange sticker on the ground. A towing company's details. "Blyat'."

Furious, I type in the towing company's number and call.

"You have my car," I spit the second someone picks up.

An automated voice answers me. "You've reached Brownsville Towing Trucks. If you want to report a car, press⁠-"

"I want to talk to a fucking human, goddammit."

The robotic voice keeps blathering on. " ... To get your car back, please show up with your documentation between 9:00 A.M. and 6:00 P.M."

I glance at my watch: 8:34 P.M.

"Fuck."

"To go back to the menu, press⁠-"

"FUCK!"

I toss my phone across the street. It lands with a loud crack on the concrete, shards flying every which way.

I don't need this shit. Not today of all days. Not when the thing I've been chasing after for so long is finally within my reach.

A way to find my family's killers-to get my revenge.

But it can't happen without Baldwin's alliance.

I pull out a spare phone. I'm about to type another text to Maksim...

... when I see her.

Messy purple scrubs. Ash brown hair, pulled up in a haphazard bun. Tired blue eyes, without a smudge of makeup. A beauty mark just under her chin that draws my eyes like a target...

... and a shit-eating grin like the cat who ate the canary.

All at once, I know what happened.

I stalk towards the woman. As I get closer, I realize how tiny she is-barely reaching my shoulder.

But if she thinks she's getting my merciful side, she'd better think again.

That shit does not exist.

"You." I stop in front of her. "Did you get my fucking car towed?"

She freezes. Then she turns with steel in her spine, her shoulders held up, chin raised in defiance.

For a tiny thing, she's a spitfire.

"I did try to tell you."

"You had no right."

I can tell my closeness rattles her, but she hides it better than most. It's a refreshing novelty. The way she holds my gaze. The way she doesn't back down, not even for a second.

It's been years since anyone's spoken to me like this-like I don't fucking scare them.

That can only mean one thing.

She doesn't know who the fuck I am.

Just like that, I get an idea.

Whether it's a good idea or a bad idea remains to be seen.

4

YULIAN

My offer has her head spinning.

I'll tell you what I need and why you're perfect for it, and when you tell me yes, I'm going to put a large amount of cash in your hand, and you're going to thank me for the easiest money you've ever made in your life.

Her face goes through all the colors of the rainbow. I can practically see the gears in her brain working overtime. Cataloging bills to be paid. Clothes to be bought. Dreaming of a vacation, maybe, for once in her overworked life.

It's like everything she is has been splayed out before me. I can taste her despairing midnight tears, the ones she doesn't dare show anyone. I can feel the heartbroken clench of her fists as the world frustrates her again and again.

She's been beaten down by it.

This is a leg up she taught herself long ago never to expect.

"I need a plus-one," I tell her succinctly. "My date is... indisposed, on short notice. You'll take her place."

"I'm not a whore," she hisses, cheeks bright red.

"And I don't pay for sex." I send my location pin to Maksim so he comes to collect me and my new date here. "Ten thousand. That's my final offer."

Her blue eyes go wide. "T-ten...?!"

"Ten thousand dollars. For one night of your time. You'd be stupid not to accept."

I can see more emotions clashing in her eyes. Pride versus practicality.

It's easy to see which will win.

"I have conditions," she says carefully.

"Name them."

"Nothing illegal," she blurts. "Nothing sexual. And no names."

Her boundaries amuse me. As if she has any idea what real danger looks like.

By stepping into my world for even one night, she's already in deeper than she realizes.

But it costs me nothing to humor her. To pretend her little boundaries mean anything at all.