Sold to the Hitman: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance Novel(85)
Natalie starts, of course. “So what the hell is going on with that Russian guy?”
“He’s cute,” Ashton adds, looking a little bashful for admitting it. I can’t help but clock the slightly doleful look in Natalie’s eyes for a moment.
“I guess he’s kinda hot in a scary way. If you’re into that,” Natalie tacks on, trying her best to look nonchalant about it. “But for real, what’s happening, Katy?”
“Oh, nothing,” I answer quickly. Both girls open their mouths to retort, but I continue before they get the chance. “Seriously. Nothing you two need to worry about. It’s fine. I’m taking care of it. It’s fine.”
“Taking care of it? That sounds bad,” Ashton comments, her sweet face scrunching up.
“Taking care of what, exactly?” Natalie interjects, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“He’s not gonna hurt you, is he?” Ashton asks, wide-eyed.
“Is he gonna be hanging around a lot?”
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing? He looked real serious.”
“You know you can tell me anything, right?”
I rub at my temples in frustration. I should have known this game of twenty questions was inevitable, with these two around.
“OKAY,” I interrupt, holding my hands in the time-out gesture. “Well, he might be coming back today so I’m gonna need you guys to play it cool, alright? Please? Just act normal,” I plead with them.
“He’s coming back?”
“Why?”
Both of these questions hit me at the exact same time and I sigh heavily.
“Right, see this whole ‘questionnaire’ thing you’re doing right now? Yeah. Don’t do that when — if — he comes by today,” I tell them solidly as I get up to leave the bar.
Just then there’s a loud bang from down the hallway to the front door. Ashton gasps.
“Probably just Charles,” I say quickly.
“He said he’d be late today,” Natalie replies, looking bewildered.
A wicked male voice calls out mockingly, “Kaaaatyyyyy!”
My stomach lurches as I recognize Oskar’s voice. Immediately I turn on my heel and hiss at Natalie and Ashton, “Get behind the bar. Stay down and do not make a sound, hear me?”
Ashton whimpers in an undertone, “What’s going on?”
“Just hide!” I whisper emphatically, pointing behind the bar. Natalie nods and dutifully puts an arm around Ashton’s shoulders to force the both of them back down behind the counter, just as a chorus of rancorous laughter echoes down the hallway.
I turn back around and walk quickly to the middle of the dimly-lit dance floor, crossing my arms over my chest and trying to look tough. I should have known not to trust Ivan. He told me that the thugs weren’t coming, that he had the power to call them off. I know now that he must have lied to me — and I am suddenly relieved that I didn’t take his offer. I am so furious that the anger bubbling in my stomach almost overpowers the fear I’m feeling at the moment.
The three mafia guys come skulking around the corner, two of them wearing hateful, sadistic grins, while the quiet one Nic simply stares with those cold, dead eyes. I wonder if he even feels anything at all. Then I wonder what I’m going to feel in a moment…
What if they kill me?
I close my eyes for a brief second and hope desperately that at least they might spare my coworkers. Nat and Ashton are totally innocent of all this. They deserve to live.
“What are you up to, Katy?” snarls Oskar, a crude smile on his face.
“Got anything for us?” adds Konrad. He extends his hand and makes a motion like he’s rubbing coins together between his forefinger and thumb. “It’s collection day.”
“I told you boys I would have your money,” I say, willing my voice not to shake.
“Uh huh. And where is it, sweetheart?” Oskar growls, taking a few slow strides toward me. He snaps his fingers a few times with an expectant look on his face.
I can’t find the words. I have no idea what to tell him. Part of me wants to lie, to tell him I’ll have the money tonight, tomorrow, sometime in the future. Maybe I can run away, go to the police or something. But I know the mafia would only find me, and they certainly would never forget. They specialize in holding grudges and delivering harsh punishments.
A small, shrill voice in the back of my mind urges me to drop to my knees and beg for my life, offer them anything, everything I have. But I know I’m too strong for that, too stubborn.
“Still waiting, bitch,” Konrad barks. He walks over to the booth Charles fixed just yesterday and plucks up the little glass votive off the table. He throws it as hard as he can on the hardwood floor and it shatters into little pieces. There is an almost inaudible gasp from behind me and my heart races, hoping that the thugs didn’t hear it. Be quiet!