Hitman Daddy by Aster Rae

29

Nikolai

Terror slams into my chest.

"Hurry up," I growl to my driver.

He steps on the gas but it's not fast enough.

With primal intensity, I thrust myself out of the limo and sprint down the sidewalk.

Three blocks.

I don't stop running until I reach Christian's apartment, throwing open the door and rushing up two flights of stairs

Spots dance in my vision.

The front door is ajar.

Anyone could be here.

This could be a crime scene.

My innocent angel could be dead.

I race inside. Acid claws at my throat as I leap into the apartment where I've shared so many precious moments with Christian.

Moments I might never have again.

"Who's here?" I bellow.

I punch a hole through a kitchen cupboard.

Crack.

The wood explodes but I don't feel a thing.

A door in the back of the apartment opens. "Hello?"

It's Tristan. He's standing in the back hallway with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Where's Christian?" I demand.

"Isn't he here?"

"Does it look like he's fucking here?"

"He was waiting for you to ring the doorbell. Didn't you just ring?"

I didn't even knock when I ran my way into here.

No time for a doorbell.

No time to think.

"Shit." Tristan's eyes widen. "Someone rang the doorbell. I thought it was you."

"Who was watching Christian from the window?"

"I have no idea. Christian was worried and texted you. He was waiting for you to come."

Paranoia surges through me.

The creep could be anyone.

I have many enemies that want me dead.

It could be a hitman from the Ricci family but it could also be anyone.

Except my gut tells me it can only be one man.

Luca.

He used our meeting tonight to distract me.

"Is Christian in danger?" Tristan's eyes migrate to his forehead.

"He might be."

I'm lying.

The answer is yes.

Yes, Christian's in danger.

Yes, Christian's with a man who wants him dead.

I glance around the apartment for clues.

I see a fluffy rug and various toys and binky stacked on furniture.

I smell the scent of frosting and spot a half-eaten slice of rainbow cake on the couch.

Fuck.

I'm not finding what I need.

This is a peaceful birthday party. Not the scene of a kidnapping.

That's when I see it.

The slip of paper sitting lopsided by the front door.

It's the size of a small envelope.

I must've overlooked it when I entered the apartment.

I pick it up.

My stomach sinks like lead.

You had your chance to prove yourself, Nikolai. You sullied our family name. I've taken matters into my own hands. This boy is a fucking liability.