When He Takes: A Dark Mafia Romance (Fallen God Book 2)

Ekaterina’s hands tremble as she places the coffee mugs on the tray. “Your husband better know what he’s doing,” she mutters under her breath. “You don’t want to see how the pakhan reacts when he’s disappointed.”

My gaze locks on the gray-haired man who just entered the living room flanked by four armed men. Even from twenty feet away, the dark, hollow pits of his eyes are unmistakable. There’s something utterly soulless about them.

My pulse quickens. It’s a steady thrum in my throat. The only thing keeping me grounded is how composed Nero remains. If he’s feeling any stress, he hides it well, even as one of the guards pats him down.

Nero expected Maksim to take him to the pakhan, not bring him here unannounced. What does this mean for the plan he and Gino Ferraro put together? It’s likely out the window now, and we’re left improvising.

I have no idea what I can do to help ensure we survive this meeting.

But I must stay calm. Freezing up like I did in Maksim’s office isn’t an option. Not when both our lives are on the line.

“Nero De Luca,” the pakhan rasps in a voice ruined by cigarettes and age. “We finally meet.”

“Welcome,” Nero says gruffly, shaking the man’s hand. “Please, have a seat.”

I focus on the task at hand, taking a small jar of sugar from the cupboard and placing it on the tray. It’s easier to stay calm if I keep busy. “Does he take his coffee with milk?” I ask Ekaterina.

She crosses her arms, her eyes cold as they follow my movements. “No. He takes it black.”

Across the room, the pakhan’s lips curl into a half smile. “I always thought Messero was a smart man,” he says to Nero. “Yet what he’s done with you appears to be a gross miscalculation. By all accounts, you were a good consigliere. What happened that night?”

Nero shrugs. “Rafaele panicked. I had no idea the Ferraros were coming, so I mistook them for the enemy.”

“Rafaele isn’t one to fall prey to his emotions. He’s a stoic man.”

“His wife was in danger. Surely you’re aware how important she is to him?”

The pakhan laughs, and the harsh sound echoes through the room. “I’m well aware of his weak spots. He protects them well.”

“It’s ready,” Ekaterina says to me, nodding at the coffee pot. Her anxiety is palpable, practically vibrating off her. “Come on. Bring it to him.”

“Why are you so scared of him if you’re on the same side?” I ask quietly.

Her eyes flash with a mix of fear and frustration. “Same side or not, he doesn’t suffer fools. I told Maks to wait a little longer before going to him with this idea, but Maks is impatient. If he’s wrong about this, my hide is on the line along with his. Now, no more questions, hurry up.”

Pity stirs in my chest at her barely suppressed terror. I study Maksim, who’s sitting to the right of the pakhan, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips. She’s right to be worried. Her husband is making a mistake.

Or at least he was, until he turned the tables on us.

The whole point of this plot was to give Gino a chance to kill the Russian leader, but he has no idea the pakhan is here.

The phone in my back pocket vibrates and my heart skips a beat. Could it be Gino?

I can’t pick up the call in front of Ekaterina.

I place the coffee pot on the tray, trying to think of a way to sneak away for just a few seconds. The phone keeps vibrating.

“What are you waiting for?” Ekaterina hisses. “Go.”

An idea appears. It’s a gamble, but worth trying.

I pick up the tray and carry it over to where the men are sitting.

“Rafaele will regret putting his wife over your friendship,” the pakhan says. “I will make sure of that. And Gino Ferraro will pay for how he’s mistreated you.”

Nero nods. “I appreciate that. I hope this can be the beginning of a fruitful partnership.” His eyes flick to me as I set the tray on the coffee table. For a brief moment, I see a flash of desperation in his gaze before he blinks it away. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” The phone stops vibrating.

“Is this your wife?” the pakhan asks.

I offer the older man a polite smile. “Yes. I’m Blake De Luca.”

His dark, terrifying eyes assess me as I pour the coffee into five cups. “How kind of you to make refreshments. If you don’t mind, one of the guards will need to check you for weapons.”

A growl escapes Nero. “No one touches my wife. She’s not armed.”

The pakhan’s smile is cold. “I’m sure that’s true, but I’ve always liked the phrase trust but verify. Why don’t you remove your sweater so we can see if you’ve got anything tucked away?”

I glance at Nero, waiting for his nod of approval before I pull my hoodie over my head and toss it on the sofa. My heart pounds in my chest. What if they take my phone?

But the pakhan seems satisfied. He glances past me. “Katya, I didn’t notice you over there. Have a seat, child. You too, Blake. Everything is fine.”

My lungs expand with relief as I lower down beside Nero.

“This is a big moment for your husband, isn’t it?” the pakhan continues. “One you might tell your kids about one day. It’s not often that we consider allowing an Italian to come to our side, but for someone as legendary as your husband, an exception must be made.” He smirks, folding his hands over his belly. “Nero, you wanted to talk in person. I presume it’s because you want my personal assurance that I will take care of Messero and Ferraro. You have it. I give you my word, man-to-man. There won’t be any deals made. They will die at my hand.”

Nero nods. “I appreciate it.”

“It will be my pleasure. And when it comes to your position… Well, we can discuss those specifics later.” He makes a dismissive wave. “Let’s not get bogged down with administrative details. I reward those who prove their value to me very well.”

Nero shifts in his seat. “I’ve heard you are a generous man.”

“Then speak, Mr. De Luca,” the pakhan says, a note of impatience in his tone. “Say what you have to say.”

The phone starts vibrating again just as I lift the coffee cup to my lips. I shift slightly on the sofa, trying to muffle the sound.

I can’t hold this awkward position too long, so I decide to just go for it.

Tilting the cup too far, I let the hot coffee spill all over me.

“Ouch!” I jump to my feet.

Suddenly, four guns are pointed at me, and Nero lunges in front of me. “Do not point those at my wife,” he snaps at the guards.

“I’m so sorry. I’m a klutz,” I mutter.

The pakhan raises a hand. “Stand down, gentlemen. It’s just an accident.”

Coffee drips from my clothes onto the cream rug. “Can I go clean up?”

Maksim’s eyes narrow as he studies me. “Go ahead, child. Artem will accompany you.”

One of the guards steps forward.

“Like hell he will.” Nero’s fists clench, the tendons in his neck taut. “I don’t want them alone.”

The pakhan sighs. “This is getting tiresome, De Luca.”

“Katya, you go,” Maksim orders. “Surely you won’t have a problem with that, Nero?”

Damn it.

Ekaterina tucks her purse under her arm and follows me out of the room. I can feel her eyes boring into my back with every step I take toward my bedroom.

In the closet, she props herself against the doorjamb and watches as I peel off my soaked shirt. Her lips curl, but her eyes stay unsmiling. “You’ve done well for yourself, haven’t you? A waitress from Missouri, now living in a gorgeous penthouse in Manhattan with your handsome husband. Your mother must be proud.”

I toss the shirt into the laundry bin. “My mother’s dead.”

“Hmm. Lucky you.”

“Lucky?”

“The fewer people you care about, the better. Trust me.”

My blood turns icy cold. “Why’s that?”

“Because one wrong move by your husband today, and they would all be dead,” she says so very confidently that I want to wring her neck.

This bitch.

“He’s brave for talking to the pakhan the way he has. For standing up for you. But he’s overdoing it, and it’ll cost him. The pakhan doesn’t like men who are too sentimental about their families. It creates too many liabilities.”

A hole opens up inside my stomach. Is she hinting that the pakhan might kill Nero once he’s no longer useful? I have no idea how Nero plans to get out of this, but his hands look like they’re tied. He might be telling the pakhan the locations of those warehouses right this second. And once he gives all of them up, there are six armed men here who could take him out.

Oh God.

Acid surges up my throat. Ekaterina might just be trying to get into my head with her words, but I can’t take that risk.

I pull on a clean shirt and brush past her, heading toward the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” she snaps.

“I need to pee. Are you going to watch me do that too?”

Before she can respond, I shut the bathroom door and lock it.

“You have one minute,” she calls out. “I’m timing it.”

I’m already turning on the tap and dialing Gino’s number.

“Hello?”

“The pakhan is here,” I whisper urgently.

A harsh intake of breath. “That explains the watch cars my guys just called me about. How many with him?”

“Four, plus Maksim and Ekaterina. They’re just talking for now, but I don’t know what he’ll do once Nero gives him the information.”

There’s a long pause, and I can almost hear the seconds counting down in my head. “Are you there?”

“I’m thinking,” Gino says gruffly. “Did Nero let them in?”

“They got his fingerprints for the biometric lock.”

“Are yours programmed in as well?”

“Yes.” Nero had them added a few weeks ago.

“Can you find a way to open the door for us?”

Knock. Knock. Knock. “Fifteen seconds!” Ekaterina’s voice is muffled by the door.

I could get to the front door from here without passing the living room, but I’ll have to get past Ekaterina first.

“I can try,” I whisper. “How long until you get here?”

“Two minutes. My men are just outside the building. If you get there before they do, just get out of there. Leave the front door cracked open and get into the elevator.”

What is he talking about? “I’m not leaving Nero.”

“Blake—”

“No. I’m not leaving him here alone.”

Gino swears. “Fine. When you get the door open, go to the farthest bathroom, lock the door, and lie down in the tub. Don’t let anyone in unless it’s Nero.”

“Five seconds,” Ekaterina snaps. “If you’re not out here by then, I’m calling the guards!”

Shit. “I’m going.” I hang up, slide the phone back into my pocket, and turn off the tap. “Coming!”

What the hell do I do? How do I get away from her? I need to knock her out somehow.

Oh God, can I?

There’s no time to hesitate. I have to do it if I want to make sure Nero and I get out of this alive.

I grab a metal nail file from the counter and slip it into my pocket, my mind racing. Then I rush to the door.

We lock eyes, the tension between us thick enough to cut.

“I have to pee too,” she says, her voice tight.

I blink at her. “Okay.”

“Wait. Right. Here,” she orders through gritted teeth. “Inside the bathroom.”

Her heels click on the marble floor as she steps into the separate toilet area behind the door made of frosted glass.

I scan the bathroom, searching for something that doesn’t involve stabbing her with a tiny piece of metal.

Maybe I could knock her out with a perfume bottle?

I grab a heavy glass one from the counter and hide it behind my back just as she reemerges.

She narrows her eyes, suspicious. She’ll see me coming in the mirror. How do I do this?

I could turn off the lights and take advantage of her confusion. But what if I miss?

I have to take the risk.

As she washes her hands at the sink, I flick off the light and charge at her, doing my best to aim for the spot where her head connects with her neck. Vita told me that’s the best place to strike during one of our lessons.

She yelps, but the bottle in my hand connects with something solid, and the sound dies in her throat. My free hand fumbles to find her, and I bring the bottle down two more times, aiming for the back of her head.

A heavy weight collapses against me, pulling me down to the ground. I try to catch myself, but I end up falling on my elbow. The pain is sharp, and I have to bite down on the inside of my cheek to stop from crying out. The taste of blood fills my mouth as I wriggle out from under Ekaterina’s limp body and turn the light back on.

She lies sprawled on the floor, her eyes closed, a thin trail of blood seeping from the back of her head. She’s out cold, but I know it won’t last long. I have to move. Now.

Keeping as quiet as possible, I hurry to the front door, straining to catch any sounds from the living room. The conversation is still ongoing—Maksim’s bark of a laugh echoes through the hall.

Ten steps. Five. Here.

I hover my thumb above the biometric lock, nerves stretched so taut I feel like I might snap. I need to time this perfectly. The lock’s beep and click will be loud enough to draw attention if they hear it.

Maksim says something in Russian, and then a burst of laughter erupts from the room. I press my thumb to the sensor, holding my breath.

The lock beeps softly, and I hear the faint click as it disengages. I pull the door open just an inch, praying the noise was masked by the laughter and conversation.

Gino’s men are already waiting outside.

The leader presses his finger to his lips and silently signals for me to step out of the way.

For a brief moment, I’m torn between following Gino’s instructions and staying close to Nero. I know that if he sees me, he’ll get distracted, and he needs to stay focused on protecting himself.

So I run.

The moment I reach my bedroom and slam the door shut behind me, the first shots ring out.

Fear grips me, freezing me in place as my emotions threaten to overwhelm me. Somehow, I pull myself back to reality. I grab the gun Vita gave me all those weeks ago from its hiding spot in the nightstand, tuck it into my waistband, and rush into the bathroom. I close the door behind me and wedge a chair under the handle.

Just then, Ekaterina begins to stir.

Damn it.

I watch her as she blinks against the harsh overhead light, her hands instinctively moving to her head. She’s sluggish, disoriented. When she pulls her fingers back and sees the blood, she moans. “What did you do to me?”

More gunshots echo through the apartment.

“You’d better stay down,” I warn, my voice tense.

Her bloodshot eyes narrow as they lock onto mine. Slowly, she pushes herself off the floor, wobbling unsteadily on her feet. “I’m going to throw up.”

She gags, spinning toward the sink and dry heaving over it.

The gunfire outside seems to be getting closer. I hear someone shout. Panic flares inside me.

“We need to get into the tub,” I urge.

She’s still heaving, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. It’s like she’s having a panic attack.

And then, in an instant, she grabs her purse from the counter and pulls out a small gun.

Time slows.

“You bitch,” she snarls, advancing on me, her eyes wild with fury.

I pull the gun from my waistband, trying to hold it steady. “Don’t come any closer.”

She takes another step forward, defiance etched on her face. “You won’t shoot me. If you had it in you, you would’ve killed me while I was still passed out.”

My body buzzes with adrenaline. “Put it down, Ekaterina.”

“What did you do?” she spits, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Are you trying to get my husband killed?”

“Stay back!” I shout, desperation clawing at my throat. “Let them sort it out. They won’t do anything to you.”

She shoots.

The gunshot is deafening, a sudden, violent crack that echoes off the bathroom walls. Pain explodes through my abdomen, searing and intense.

I gasp, the burning sensation spreading like wildfire. My hand flies to the site of the impact. Warm, sticky wetness gushes over my fingers—blood.

Oh God.

I’ve never felt my heartbeat so acutely. Each throb amplifies the pain now blazing through my core.

A realization hits me hard.

If I don’t act, I will die here.

My gaze lifts from the blood soaking my abdomen to Ekaterina. I can see in her eyes that she intends to finish the job.

And just like that, my breathless panic transforms into fury.

She shot me. She wants me dead. Does she really think I’m so weak that I’ll just let her finish me off?

A force stirs awake inside me. A force that screams for me to do what’s necessary. To do what’s just.

The trigger beneath my index finger feels like it’s burning as Ekaterina raises her gun again.

I squeeze it.

And then I squeeze it again. And again.

I empty the entire clip into Ekaterina until she collapses to the ground.

The room spins. I do my best to lower myself gently to the tiles, but I end up crashing once I’m halfway down.

My vision dims. Faint voices reach my ears, though I can’t make out who they belong to.

And then everything goes black.