Loving Talia: A Dark Mafia Billionaire Romance (Amatucci Family Book 5) Page 5

  As soon as he fell to the floor, his chest working overtime, I ground my foot into his balls. As he flopped and flailed on the ground, I reared back and slammed my heel into his chest. The disgusting sounds of bones cracking filled the air.

  I fought back my gorge as I looked at both disabled men. Now was not the time to wimp out or play by some ridiculous rules of gentlemanly fighting. No. I needed to end these men. As many of them as possible.

  The man with the crushed rib cage fell silent as his chest failed to rise completely. Girding my loins, I angled my foot back one more time. With a swift kick to his temple, I sent him after his buddy to the land of Endless Dreams.

  The knowledge that I needed to kill them filled me. Overtook me. I knew that if they healed and I was still here, then my death was assured. I’d be lucky not to be killed simply for disabling them. But if I were going to die, I was taking as many of them with me as possible.

  Going back to the first guy, I knelt down and started patting him down for a weapon of some kind. No gun that I could feel, and even though I had some vision again, I certainly couldn’t see one. Changing my expectation, I started sliding my hands down the flat planes of his body.

  Within moments, I found a knife. Considering it was almost as long as my forearm, I was going to call it a short sword. Either way, it would work.

  I took a deep breath as I straightened while still on my knees. Both hands around the grip of the weapon, I brought it down over the neck of the first man. Blood, hot and thick, shot from the wound.

  Spraying me like I was in a shower, it pumped and poured from him. Not a single gurgle rose from his body though. For that, I would say thanks.

  Looking down the hall, I was both surprised and a little insulted that they had only two men stationed to watch me. Apparently, I wasn’t thought of as much of a risk. Shoving the conflicting emotions away for now, I moved to the second man. Gave him the same necklace I’d given the first man. Yeah, I’m catty like that.

  With zero hope of getting out of this clean, I picked myself up out of the pool of blood and started down the hallway. The scent of old pennies and wet metal roiled in my stomach. At least I could breathe again. Hopefully, I didn’t have a fully broken nose. Just some cartilage that was out of place.

  Tiptoeing down the corridor, I saw that the initial room was, indeed, empty. A small table had been set up. Two plates with leftover food sat on its surface. Two tall glasses stood sentry, both half full with sparkling clear liquid.

  Rushing over, I gulped down the first glass. Thankful it was water and not vodka. Blood loss and alcohol were not really a good combination. Using the second glass, I cleared my eyelashes. Winced at the bruised flesh that still impacted my vision slightly.

  Both glasses now empty, I grabbed the half-eaten sandwich off one plate, an apple from the other. Shoved the first in my mouth and the second in my armpit. I needed to keep at least one hand free to wield the short sword.

  Free for the moment, I darted around the room. There had to be a bathroom around here somewhere. They might be mafia, but they weren’t animals.

  Hopefully.

  At the far end of the last hallway, I found a toilet. And I had to pee so badly that I didn’t even care that it looked like it hadn’t been washed in at least a month. Pushing thoughts of STIs and other types of infections from my mind, I did the awkward stance almost every single woman on earth was familiar with to empty my bladder.

  The last bit of the sandwich hanging from my mouth, I spat out the rest of it. Unwilling to ingest anything that it might have picked up from this little freedom romp. As I stood up, I lost the apple.

  Tears rushed to my eyes. Damn it. What else could go wrong?

  I shouldn’t have asked.

  Male yells and shouts sounded from down the hallway. My time for running free had come to an end.

  Chapter 9 – Arkady

  I hid the smirk that wanted to rise to my lips as I saw Sergei and Dmitri on the floor, their throats slit. Seems the Italian Princess had more to her than just fancy clothes and an important bloodline. Why these idiots continued to see women as nothing more than brood mares and fuck toys, I’d never understand.

  Some of the most vicious people I’d ever met in my life had been women. And they felt no pain or sorrow for their ways. And why should they? They were surviving. In this world, that was the name of the game.

  “Naydi suku. V nastoyashcheye vremya,” I barked. Find the bitch. Now. I didn’t really want her found, but since it was either her or me, I would sacrifice her.

  Survival. What a bitch.

  The handful of men who accompanied me fanned out. Each of them took a branch of the underground facility. Not quite a bomb shelter, it had originally been designed as a secret metro system under Moscow for when the USSR was still functioning. Unless the princess was a ghost, she would be found. Hiding underground only afforded so many places to hide.

  Pointing to two of my men, I called out, “Uberite eti tela otsyuda. YA ne khochu ikh nyukhat'.” Get those bodies out of here. I don’t want to smell them.

  They nodded quickly and spun for the captives’ hallway. It seemed I gave the little princess more rope than I should have. I hadn’t expected her to dance out of her cell and come this close to decapitating two soldiers. Especially with her eyes mostly glued shut with some kind of crusty stuff.

  The slight bend of her nose earlier told me that she had at least some cartilage out of place. If she was still kicking ass while she’s in that much pain, this woman was stronger than most men.

  A short, feminine shriek came from the far hall.

  A grin pulled at my mouth as the princess’s yelp was quickly followed by a hard grunt in a much lower tone. Even now she wasn’t pulling her punches. I had to give her credit for that.

  Just as Grigori and Ivan came through, the bodies of Sergei and Dmitri on the big plastic carts, Anton pushed Talia into the big room.

  “Suka!” He kicked at her as she fell.

  Her chuckle was low as she tipped into a forward roll and popped up on her feet. Within moments, she was back in Anton’s face. A swift jab to his throat had him hacking and grabbing at his neck.

  She unearthed a familiar blade and stabbed the fallen comrade in the belly. “I told you to keep your hands off me.” She pulled the knife free, whipping blood in a wide arc as Anton fell to his knees.

  He glared at me.

  I shrugged. Wasn’t my fault he couldn’t contain her. The boss didn’t reward weakness. These men had been beaten by a woman. Hell, the boss would probably try to recruit her.

  Grigori and Ivan rushed over, tried to subdue the princess. She gave them a hard ride that ended with more bloodshed. They wouldn’t be rising anytime soon.

  Panting and covered in enough blood to look like a zombie movie reject, she had her back to a corner, her weapon ready in her hands. Nothing about her was weak. Not only was she hell with a blade, she had to be more than just competent with her body to take down Sergei and Dmitri.

  My body tightened at the thought of having her under me. Her nails scraping down my back, her body cradling mine as we fought for dominance. Even drenched in the blood of the men I’d sworn to protect, something about her called to me.

  A low, rumbling noise came from her throat as she held her ground. Ready. Poised.

  “You escaped,” I said softly as I turned to face her fully. Never would I assume that she wasn’t trying to win her own survival.

  She bared her teeth at me in a rough facsimile of humor. “Arkady, I expected better from you.” She shook her head slightly. “Simply stating the obvious is so beneath you.”

  The rest of my men came rushing back into the room. I heard the various guns being drawn; the hammers pulled back. In one particular case, Bogdan, the so familiar pump action on his shotgun was a particularly potent death knell.

  I held up a hand to stay them without looking away from the blood covered princess. “Soon, you will be beneath me. Give me the kn
ife, little girl.”

  Another rough sound came from her throat. “Net.” She snorted, wiggled her eyebrows. “Means ‘no.’”

  The men behind me chuckled. Strength, no matter its source, was praised.

  Stupidity, on the other hand…There was no way she could win. Not really. We just had to keep her alive. While that removed the ultimate play of power we could employ, it wouldn’t stop us from fucking her shit up.

  “Lev, otklyuchi yeye,” I said, a sad smile on my face. Lev, disable her.

  A single gunshot rang out in the confined space.

  She fell to the ground on her hands and knees. Knife still in her hand. She didn’t make a sound other than the sobbing of her breath as she tried to breathe. Damn, her intensity was sexy. Not a whimper passed her lips. Even though she had to be almost overwhelmed with pain.

  “Ocherednoy raz?” Lev asked. Again?

  I watched the princess. Tried to anticipate her next move. She was trapped; she was beaten; she was now shot. Would she give in on the battle so she could fight again in the war?

  Not stupid enough to take my gaze off her, I saw her gather her reserves. Her head hung low between her arms. She flicked back her length of black hair. Matted with blood, sweat, and other things. Her dark eyes were clear, if still swollen.

  The blood of the bruises under the delicate skin of her eyes made her look like a warrior of old. As if she’d decorated her flesh with tar or black paint, she’d transformed herself into a fierce visage to haunt nightmares.

  Or stir fantasies. Fuck. What would it be like to hold all that ferocity in my hands?

  Using the blade as a cane, she shoved the end into the chest of Grigori. Gave it a solid wrench to the side. Whatever hissing breath had managed to move his chest, stilled under her gentle ministrations.

  The princess got to her feet. Her knees knocking together visibly, she dared any of us to mention it. To even notice it. Her head held high, she took a step forward.

  The men behind me held their ground. Their loyalty to me unquestioned. But I could feel their eagerness to return even more pain pushing at me silently.

  Talia never once took her gaze from mine as she walked towards me. Not by a flicker of her brow or a twitch of her lips could I tell that she was in immense pain. Warrior queen by her very nature.

  She stopped just out of striking range. Tipping her head back, she looked up at me. Her dark chocolate eyes were intent as she searched my face. With a nod, she smiled.

  “I’ll give this to you and go back to my cell, without further issue.”

  I smirked. She was trying to negotiate. I nodded, interested to hear what she wanted. “And for this miracle, I have to pay what?”

  She smiled. Grimaced slightly as the cut on her lip split again. “I want regular bathroom breaks. In a clean bathroom. I would like more than just a single blanket. And, if it’s not too much trouble, I would like a first aid kit. I can patch myself up.” Her lips quirked up. “Because, I can guarantee you right now, you hand me back in this condition, your entire organization will be dead before hands are shook or money exchanged.”

  Two of my men snorted derisively. Considering the woman who was smaller than our smallest guy had just killed three men and severely damaged another—while she was hurt no less, I wasn’t really sure who were the idiots on my team. But they would learn their lessons soon enough.

  I nodded. “Anything else?” I asked drily.

  “Yes,” she answered immediately. “No one tries to come into my room. No one attempts to rape me.” She jutted her chin at the carts. “That’s what happened to those two.”

  Only one of my men snorted this time.

  At least they were learning their lessons easily.

  “Is that all?” The balls on this girl…

  She tipped her head to the side, her eyes shifted back and forth as if she were thinking really hard. “I guess a shower is out of the question.” She sighed heavily. “Yes, that is all.”

  I blinked. I’d expected her to have a laundry list of demands. We were all getting off easy with this. However, knowing the fine art of negotiations, I made her wait for my answer.

  After long moments where she kept her silence, her eyes slowly sinking into even deeper slits as anger built on her face, I nodded. “Fine. But we will not clean the bathroom.”

  My men laughed.

  The princess nodded. “As long as I can have chemicals to clean it, then I will do that.”

  All laughter stopped behind me. Were they as surprised as I was? The Amatucci family was powerful, moneyed, and very well respected. That their only daughter would clean the bathroom? Maybe I’d been doing this for too long, but that, more than anything else, seemed the most suspect of her actions.

  “No bleach,” I said.

  She shrugged. “Fine. Soap and water, if you have hot enough water, should do fine.”

  I nodded. “Agreed. Give me the knife.”

  She flipped it up in the air. Caught it by the blade. Handed it out to me, pommel-first. “Thank you.” She dipped her head, scooted back. She kept her arms out away from her body, her gaze lowered.

  Motioning to my men to lower their weapons, I made them move to the side. “Poluchite vse neobkhodimoye dlya vannoy i aptechku. Naydite led. Ona prava. Yesli my otdadim yeye seychas, oni razozlyatsya yeshche bol'she.” Get what she needs for the bathroom and the first aid kit. Find some ice. She's right. If we give her over now, they'll be even more pissed.

  The men nodded and started on their way.

  “I izbav'sya ot tel.” And get rid of the bodies.

  Three men jumped forward to collect Grigori and Ivan. The lump of Grigori was thrown on top of the bodies of Sergei and Dmitri that were already loaded up. Only Ivan would be surviving his encounter with the Blood Princess today.

  “This way, Ms. Amatucci,” I said, waving for her to precede me down the hallway.

  She nodded, strode forward. Her head held high, her bearing was nothing short of regal, even with blood drying on her cheeks. “Thank you, Mr…Arkady.”

  I smothered the chuckle. Couldn’t let her see that I was enamored of her. I was still her jailor. Getting chummy with the captives wasn’t the way to a promotion. That was for damn sure.

  If anyone asked, I could make the same case she had. If whatever Zmeya was doing with her family ended quickly, and we turned her over looking like ripe road kill, we would all be dead in very short order. Very quickly and very dead. The family was feared across the world for a reason.

  Bathroom breaks, first aid kit, and a vow of non-contact. I could uphold those rules. Zmeya didn’t care what happened to her. But she’d just made herself my top priority.

  Chapter 10 – Talia

  Stay upright. Stay upright. Stay upright. I chanted the words, tried to brand them on my brain. I couldn’t lose consciousness now. It would ruin all the hard work. The tough façade. Whatever respect I’d just earned.

  I fought to stay not only upright, but to keep walking in a straight line. Who knew blood loss coupled with dehydration could be so awful? I snorted mentally. Right. Maybe I should ask some of the guys I’d helped interrogate how the body responded to such things.

  A few months ago, when I learned everything about my best friend/sister and the monster she’d been married to, I’d had to ferret out moles in my own line of the organization. Foster had been so helpful in that area.

  Foster. The Asshole. He was so fucking pretty and so fucking annoying. Bossy. Bitchy.

  Other than his dick, I didn’t really like him. But what he did with his dick…damn. That man rocked my world in ways I didn’t even know it moved.

  Someone grabbed my arm before I faceplanted the wall.

  “Keep in line, little girl. I wouldn’t want you to ruin your image so quickly,” Arkady said in a low voice.

  Something about this man bothered me. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. But he was both scary and oddly soothing at the same time. No doubts rushed through me when he
touched me. None of the red flags inside me even quivered.

  He was a man in a brutal business that wasn’t needlessly savage. He was thoughtful, precise, intentional in his actions. Even his words were given with purpose.

  He was what Foster could be if Foster ever learned how to keep his fucking mouth shut. That man chattered like a tipsy girl after prom. In his sleep. While he thought he was alone. Chatter, chatter, chatter.

  If he was some big CIA guy, how the hell he’d been any kind of successful in his life was beyond me. Like trying to keep water in a sieve, he just spilled all kinds of information. Granted, none of it was ever interesting, but man, that boy would put any Chatty Cathie to shame.

  “Sit down,” Arkady said as he guided me into my cell with a gentle hand on my arm.

  I flopped down onto the bed, my legs finally giving out. Well, at least I hadn’t collapsed in the hall. That was a win. I was counting it as one. And right now, I was the only one counting.

  “Thanks.”

  He took his hand off me. I immediately felt the loss of heat. The substance of him. For some ridiculous reason, he made me feel bigger. Stronger. As if, in his eyes, I was finally who I was supposed to be.

  But that was a mystery for another day. “I would say sorry about your men, but I’m really not and I do try not to lie.”

  He laughed, the sound low and smooth. “Then do not apologize. Apologizing makes you look weak. And I would get over your aversion to lying. Honesty does not serve you well in the long run of things. Especially in your business.”

  I smiled. “True. Then I’m not sorry they’re dead.”

  He shrugged. “Better. Besides, if they were weak enough to be taken down, then they are better off dead. Especially since you were already wounded previously.”

  My spine stiffened. “A little girl taking down big strong men is such a novelty?” Maybe he was just like Foster. I narrowed my gaze at Arkady.

  He shook his head. “Not quite how you mean. Even if you had been a man who was wounded. They still should have treated you with more respect. Women are vicious.” He smiled.