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“Get on the bed, Roxanne.” He pulled me with him and fell back, making me collapse on top of him.
I nervously smiled, sitting up and straddling his lap.
“Come here.” He slid his hand into my hair, pulling my lips to his and I rolled my eyes, keeping my lips pressed to his.
He lifted his hips beneath me, running his fingers through my hair and I pulled back, faking a smile.
“What’s wrong?” He tried to pull me in again but the door slammed open and I jolted back off his lap, seeing Antonio enter.
He approached the bed and before Hiro could scurry back, Antonio put a bullet between his eyes. The blood splattered across my chest and face, making me wince. My eyes squeezed shut and more footsteps entered the room.
“Clean yourself up.” Antonio tossed his blazer at me. “The job’s not done yet.”
“You do have a heart.” I sarcastically smiled.
Cold. Distant. Not a second ounce of apology in his dark eyes.
With bile clogging my throat I scurried up from the bed and slammed the bathroom door shut behind myself.
With trembling hands stained in blood I reached for the faucet. My wobbly fingers twisted the nob but they kept slipping and tears stung my eyes. Blurred vision forced me to stop, and I released a shaky breath.
I glanced up, meeting my wet eyes in the mirror.
Disheveled hair. Crimson scattered across my cheeks. Smeared lipstick. Fuck.
* * *
“Focus.”
With adrenaline coursing through my veins, my trembling finger curled around the trigger of my Barrett M82, and I narrowed my eyes, locking onto my target with deadly precision. Chin Yosheda.
Kiryl stood beside me, silent and still. My bodyguard, my shadow—waiting for my shot. He was told that after Antonio’s signal, he is to get me out then make the shot. But, of course, we had other plans. I’d asked him to let me make the shot and after much convincing, he agreed.
We were positioned on the balcony and below, our target laughed, completely unaware. He was surrounded by women in glittering gowns and men in tailored suits, all drunk on luxury and champagne.
I breathed in slowly. Exhale.
My grip tightened. You got this, Nirah.
Boom.
The bullet cut through the air like a whisper. Right between his goddamn eyes. Bullseye.
Chaos struck below us, but I didn’t bother to admire the aftermath. Screams filled the room. Armed men scrambled. Blood pooled around a crumpled body in the middle of polished marble. Women cried out. Men barked orders. The symphony of panic began.
Kiryl flipped open the sleek black case and I dropped the rifle inside. He gave me an approving grin as I snapped it shut.
He ducked beneath the table, disappearing in seconds, and I moved fast, retrieving the key card from my thigh holster, sliding it against the reader. With a soft beep the light turned green.
I slipped out and he followed, just a step behind me. I peeled off my gloves and handed them to him. With no hesitation, he tossed both pairs into the trash, his footsteps right on my heels.
My fingers reached up and I dragged the platinum wig from my head, letting my real hair tumble down in waves of dark silk.
“You win,” Kiryl muttered with a smirk, removing his cap and running a hand through his hair. “You’re the better sniper.”
“I know.” I shrugged with a slow smile as we pushed open the next set of doors, stepping into the kitchen’s frantic energy.
Servers rushed around us, trays of foie gras and champagne flutes teetering in their hands. Kiryl plucked a pastry from a woman’s plate mid-stride and winked at her like a devil in disguise. I couldn’t help but chuckle.
