Hitman’s Secret by Rosa Mink
Chapter 1
Marko
“You understand I want this taken care of quickly, don’t you?” Ono stated as I slid into the backseat of his limo, the dark tinted windows weren’t about to let anyone know who was inside it or overhear our discussion.
It’s the only way I’ll work for the man. I refuse to take the fall for him even if I do end up pulling the trigger most often for whatever he needs handled. He pays well enough, but he’d never begin to let me talk if caught and I enjoy living far too much, perhaps too much for someone who takes it so easily from others.
“You always want it taken care of quickly,” I reply checking out the folder he has, it’s thicker than most and I wonder which dickhead businessman attempted to cheat him this time.
Ono wasn’t the patient sort, not when he wasn’t paid. First, he sent his thugs after them for payment. If that wasn’t successful, then he went to his breakers. His thugs would rough them up, scare them into paying, while his breakers did just that, they broke them, whatever bones they could under the darkness of night.
If that didn’t result in payment still, then he called me in; I specialize in eliminating the target or more often, whatever the target holds dearest to them. Usually a whore that’s easily discarded, sometimes a spouse but most of the men that go to Ono for loans, have someone that means far more to them than a spouse ever might. He finds them and sends me after them.
Ninety percent of the time that’s enough to get payment out of them, but every now and again, I’m sent to take out the loan holder. From the way Ono’s acting, the rapid request for tonight’s meeting, I’m hedging already that’s what this one’s regarding.
“I want this one done, tonight, Marko,” he replies, handing over the folder
I keep an eye on him as I flip open the folder, finding the photo of a woman, mostly a girl really, sweet, angelic, and there’s no fucking way I’m taking her out. Shit, she’s perfection on film, I can already imagine what she’ll be like in person, how soft she’ll be, how manageable she’ll be.
My entire body is buzzing as I flip to the next picture. There I find another angelic rendering of her, this time with a bookbag, a fucking bookbag over her shoulder, her arm heaving with books.
I dive into the information on her and find the perfect way to delay this, stop it however the hell I can. I won’t kill her, not her. I know he won’t be happy with it, but I know if I don’t tell him I’ll do it, he’ll find someone else who will, and that’s not about to happen.
“Impossible. According to this, she’s living on campus, the place is teaming with cameras. It will take me a week at least to set up a plan for it, unless you’d like it coming back on you that is,” I add seeing the angry color rising in his face.
“One week, if she’s not dead by then, I’ll find someone new to take my business to,” Ono states and I move out of the car, through the dark parking garage and up to my bike.
I have the information for Natalia tucked away in my jacket and I intend to uncover who she is, why Ono wants her taken out so badly. This sweet little thing wouldn’t begin to know who Ono was to go to him for a loan let alone stiff him on it.
Something about this situation doesn’t add up, none of it stays true to who Ono is, or what he does. I’ve never had an issue taking anyone out, not even those spouses who knew nothing, but this girl is not dying, not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever if I handle it right.
Nothing comes up, not even with a wealth of research done through links to the national databases. I had a friend of a friend who got me access to it and none of them are talking now, because friend or not, I don’t leave behind anyone who can pin anything on me.
The only way I’m getting answers as to why Ono wants her dead is from her. Her school is only two hours away, plenty of time to get there, find the perfect opportunity to get her alone, and uncover everything about her.
Including that sweet as hell body, it’s tasty and soft, the slightest bit plump, but it’s a delicious sort of plump. I’ll enjoy uncovering it, taking it. I know she’ll let me, women let me do anything to them, it’s the Italian accent and heritage. They don’t know the accent only comes out when it’s necessary, another precaution I’ve set up, but this angel will fall for it I know she will.
