Stolen by the Mob Boss : A Russian Mafia Romance (Bratva Hitman) by Nicole Fox (classic fiction TXT) 📗

disappointment and heartache. And more than that, it leads to distraction. Letting her help me is already a big enough distraction on its own. I don’t need to be confusing my lustful emotions with something deeper.

It was just the sex. That’s it. That’s the reason I’m doubting myself and questioning my feelings. The sex was enough to confuse me, but in a few hours, I’ll have a level head again.

Instead of worrying about what I’m feeling for Lucy, I need to come up with an exit strategy. She knows and I know that after this assignment with Konstantin, that’s it. There’s nothing that can happen for us. My line of work is too dangerous, and she has to get back to her life at the diner she works at. She has a grandmother to take care of. I can’t babysit her or work her into all my assignments.

But how?

How do I get her back to her normal life without making problems for everyone? I’ve dug myself into a hole, I know that much. The smartest thing would’ve been to leave her in the alleyway, but we’re long past that being a solution.

There are too many loose ends to come up with a plan of action, and I try not to make a noise of frustration. Lucy is still peacefully asleep, and after the past twenty-four hours she’s had, some sleep might do her good. I have things to take care of, anyway.

I need to research Konstantin and learn more about him. Who is he, what is his schedule, and if I have time, just how badly has he pissed off Mr. X?

It takes all my strength to slide out of bed. If it were up to me, I’d sit there watching Lucy sleep for hours. I’d watch the rise and fall of her perfect chest or listen to the mumbling she does when she’s deep in sleep. But I have work to do.

I leave the door open just a crack and head downstairs for my laptop. There are things that need to be researched, and quickly. The faster I finish this assignment, the faster I get Lucy out of my life and back to her grandmother. Old lady must miss her.

I take a seat at my computer and begin looking Abram Konstantin up, but as I continue my search, I find an article about the fire Lucy told me about. There are pictures of her on the front lawn, crying. I never thought I’d care about someone else’s pain again, but seeing her sobbing, just a little girl, makes my heart squeeze.

Jesus.

I’m starting to think I have it bad for this woman. I don’t need the extra drama, yet here I am, complicating things even more. Whatever’s wrong with me, I need to get it together, too, just like I told her to do. If I don’t, I’m sure everything will go off the rails, and more people could get hurt. For the first time in what feels like years, I don’t want that. Rather than kill, I want to protect.

I want to protect Lucy.

Chapter Ten

Lucy

When I wake up, I halfway expect to find myself in my own bed at Nana’s. Everything that’s happened has all been some sort of screwed-up dream where I did things I would never do in real life. I wasn’t kidnapped. I wasn’t given a gun and instructed to shoot a man. I didn’t watch him die in front of me. It was only a bizarre fever dream.

But when I rub the sleep from my eyes and roll over, I realize that this isn’t my bed. I don’t know where I am. I sit up suddenly, my heart pounding. I’m alone. Did something happen to Roman?

Saying his name reminds me of the night before. Listening to the story of him and his family. Before, he struck me as a lone wolf, but I’m starting to see him as something else. He didn’t wake up one morning and decide that a life of crime was something he wanted to do for money or fun.

Before all of this, he was just a boy, with a family that loved him and that he loved back. His life was simple, like mine. I’m not sure what changed for him and turned him into this, but a big part of me mourns for what he must’ve been before we ever met. The little boy that had his childhood stolen from him.

It’s strange to think that I’m empathizing with someone like Roman. What he does is wrong. Good people don’t kill others, and they certainly don’t do it for money. They don’t work with shady underground crime lords who have ominous names like “Mr. X.”

But ever since yesterday, I’m beginning to wonder what being a good person means anymore. Am I a good person? I want to say yes. I want to say that me coming home to take care of Nana was a good thing. Me always being willing to fill in for coworkers without question is a good thing. All the times I’ve ever donated, helped when I didn’t need to, or given someone a hand are all good things.

But I’ve also done bad things. Shooting that man in the diner was a bad thing, even if Roman says that I saved lives. It doesn’t feel like it. It feels like I’m no better than those three men. And now I’m supposed to move on and forget it never happened? I’m supposed to continue living while the knowledge of what I did weighs down on me? Impossible.

There’s a little voice in the back of my head that asks, “How else are you going to take down Konstantin?”

I can’t be soft if I want to make him pay. I can’t be worried about morality when it comes to taking him out. Me being good won’t help me save another life. Shooting one of the attackers in the diner didn’t feel like saving lives, but shooting Abram Konstantin? Shooting him and