Kiss of the Assassin: When Love means Death

Sofia's POV

The wine glass exploded against the marble floor behind me.

I spun around as red liquid splashed across my white shoes. Another bodyguard was storming out of Dad's office, his face red with anger. That made four this month.

"Miss Sofia is impossible to protect!" he shouted at my father. "She won't listen, won't stay put, and acts like this is all a big joke!"

The front door slammed so hard the windows shook. I rolled my eyes and stepped over the broken glass. Dad's men were such babies.

"Sofia!" My father's voice boomed from his office. "Get in here. Now."

I walked slowly toward his office, taking my time. The penthouse was quiet except for the soft jazz music playing from hidden speakers. Dad's men usually filled these rooms with their deep voices and cigarette smoke, but tonight felt different. Empty. Scary.

Dad stood behind his big wooden desk, staring out at the city through floor-to-ceiling windows. Chicago spread out below us like a blanket of twinkling lights. From up here, everything looked peaceful. But I knew better. Down there in those streets, people were fighting, stealing, and killing. Dad made sure I knew how dangerous the world could be.

"You can't keep scaring away every bodyguard I hire," Dad said without turning around.

"They're boring," I said, dropping into the leather chair across from his desk. "All they do is follow me around and tell me what I can't do."

"That's their job."

"Well, their job stinks."

Dad finally turned to face me. Marco Moretti looked older tonight. Gray hair touched his temples, and worry lines creased his forehead. He'd been acting strange all week, jumping at every phone call and having whispered conversations with his men.

"This isn't a game anymore, Angel."

He only used my nickname when something was really wrong. My stomach twisted into a knot.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Dad opened his desk drawer and pulled out a thick manila folder. He dropped it in front of me with a heavy thud. Photos spilled out across the dark wood.

I picked up the first picture. It showed a man I didn't recognize lying in a pool of blood. His eyes stared at nothing. I quickly put it down and grabbed another photo. This one showed a burned car with its windows blown out.

"What is this?" My voice came out smaller than I wanted.

"People who crossed Vincent Romano," Dad said. "He sent these to me yesterday with a message."

Vincent Romano. I'd heard that name whispered in our house since I was little. Dad's biggest enemy. The man who wanted to destroy our family and take over Dad's business.

"What kind of message?"

Dad sat down heavily in his chair. For the first time in my life, he looked scared.

"He's put a price on your head, Sofia. One million dollars to whoever brings him your body."

The room went silent except for the ticking of Dad's old clock. I stared at the photos scattered across the desk. These people were dead because of Vincent Romano. And now he wanted me dead too.

"Why?" I whispered.

"Because you're my daughter. Because hurting you would destroy me more than any business deal or stolen money ever could."

I'd always known being a Moretti came with dangers. Dad had enemies who would love to hurt our family. But knowing something and living it are two different things. Now it was real. Someone out there wanted to kill me for money.

My hands started shaking. I pressed them flat against my legs so Dad wouldn't see.

"How many people know about this?"

"Too many," Dad said grimly. "Vincent made sure word got out to every killer, thief, and desperate person in three states. He's turned you into a walking target."

I thought about all the times I'd snuck out to go shopping or meet friends. All the times I'd ditched my bodyguards because they cramped my style. Had someone been watching me? Following me? Planning to hurt me?

"What do we do?" I asked.

Dad reached across the desk and took my hands in his. His skin felt rough and warm.

"We keep you alive," he said simply. "Whatever it takes."

"How? Every bodyguard you hire runs away screaming."

"That's because I was hiring the wrong kind of men. I was trying to find someone who would be gentle with you, someone who would treat you like a lady."

Dad stood up and walked to his window again. The city lights reflected in the glass, making him look ghostly.

"But Vincent Romano doesn't play gentle games. He's a killer who enjoys making people suffer. To beat someone like him, I need to hire someone just as dangerous."

"What do you mean?"

Dad turned back to me. His dark eyes were harder than I'd ever seen them.

"I mean I'm done playing nice. I'm done trying to keep you comfortable and happy while killers hunt you in the streets."

My heart started beating faster. Dad was scaring me more than the photos had.

"I don't understand."

"Vincent wants to play war games? Fine. But this time, I'm bringing out my biggest weapon."

Dad walked to his office door and opened it. "Tommy!" he called.

Tommy Castellano appeared in the doorway. He was young and nervous, always trying to prove himself to Dad's older men.

"Yes, boss?"

"Is he here yet?"

"Just pulled up, sir. Want me to bring him up?"

Dad nodded. Tommy disappeared again, and I heard the elevator ding in the distance.

"Who's coming?" I asked.

Dad didn't answer. He just stood by his door, waiting. I could hear footsteps in the hallway getting closer. Heavy boots on marble floors. The sound made my skin crawl.

"Dad, you're scaring me."

"Good," he said. "You should be scared. Maybe that will keep you alive."

The footsteps stopped outside the office door. I held my breath.

"Sofia," Dad said, his voice deadly serious. "Meet your new bodyguard."

The door opened, and a man stepped inside. He was tall and broad, dressed in all black. Dark hair fell across his forehead, and when he looked at me, his eyes were the coldest green I'd ever seen. He moved without making a sound, watching everything in the room at once.

This wasn't like the other bodyguards Dad had hired. Those men had been polite and careful around me. This man looked at me like I was just another job. Another problem to solve.

"This is Dante Rossi," Dad said. "He's going to keep you alive."

Dante didn't smile or introduce himself. He just studied me with those ice-cold eyes.

"She's the target?" His voice was deep and rough.

"She's my daughter," Dad said sharply.

"Same thing," Dante replied without emotion.

I felt my face get hot with anger. "Excuse me?"

Dante finally looked directly at me. "You heard what I said."

"I don't think I like you very much," I said.

For the first time, Dante's expression changed slightly. One corner of his mouth almost smiled.

"Good," he said. "I'm not here to be your friend."

Dad moved between us before I could say something that would get me in trouble.

"Dante has worked for our family for ten years," Dad explained. "He's the best at what he does."

"What exactly do you do?" I asked Dante.

Those cold green eyes stared into mine. "I kill people who need killing."

The room went dead quiet. I couldn't breathe. Dad had hired me a killer. Not just a bodyguard, but someone who murdered people for money.

"I won't do it," I said, standing up so fast my chair fell backward. "I won't let him follow me around!"

"This isn't a discussion," Dad said firmly.

"I'd rather take my chances with Vincent Romano!"

Dante spoke without moving or changing his expression. "That can be arranged."

The way he said it made ice water run through my veins. He wasn't joking or trying to scare me. He was stating a simple fact. If I didn't want his protection, he could just as easily kill me himself.

Dad stepped closer to me. "Angel, listen to me very carefully. Vincent Romano has fifty killers looking for you right now. They want to cut you into pieces and deliver your head in a box. Dante is the only thing standing between you and a very painful death."

I looked back and forth between my father and this cold-eyed stranger. My whole life was about to change. No more freedom. No more normal days. Just me and a killer, waiting for other killers to find us.

"How long?" I whispered.

"Until Vincent Romano is dead," Dad said. "Or until you are."

Dante moved closer, and I could smell something dangerous about him. Not cologne or aftershave, but something else. Something that reminded me of metal and darkness.

"Your father's right," Dante said quietly. "But there's something else you should know about this arrangement."

"What?" I asked, even though I didn't want to hear the answer.

Dante leaned forward until his face was inches from mine. When he spoke, his voice was so low only I could hear it.

"That's why I'm giving you a new bodyguard," Dad said from behind us. "The best killer I know."