Deadly Love (The Deadly #1) - Erin Trejo

Chapter One


I lazily blink my eyes as I watch him moving around the room. I slowly work the razor blade through the rope that’s bound my wrists behind my back. Any other women would probably be crying for mercy, begging to have her life spared. I’m not other women. I’m me. I’m vindictive, spiteful and I seek revenge.

“How long are we going to play this little game?” I ask him pulling his attention once more. I should let him ignore me and continue to pace. The more attention I draw the longer it’s going to take me to cut through this rope.

“As long as I feel like it,” he sneers. Whatever. It doesn’t bother me at all although he is hindering my plans.

“This is boring,” I remind him as he stalks through the room. He isn’t going to keep me here even though he thinks he is. I’m smarter than most men give me credit for. When I’m caught, it’s for a good reason. Sometimes I like being tied up. Sometimes I enjoy the pain they inflict. Like now, when he back hands me across the face. I laugh.

“That’s it?” Egging him on isn’t a smart move but it is my thing. I like to push people to their limits. I like to see how far I can go before they snap and lose control. There is nothing and I mean nothing sexier than a man losing control.

“What is your problem? Why are you here?” He asks, his brown eyes holding power.

“I could ask you the same.” With a shrug, I continue to work the blade slowly.

“You’re kidding? You came here! To my boss’s house!” I know I know. Sneaking into the Russian Mafia bosses house wasn’t the smartest move on my part but to be fair, I had a good reason. Not that I’d tell this fuck what it is because to be honest, this is my plan, my secret to keep. No one will know shit about it until I want them to and by then I will have righted every single wrong the motherfucker made. I will have fixed what he broke. Or at least some of it.

“What should I have done? Knocked? Rang the little bell?” I ask sarcastically. Like they would have let me in. Who does this idiot think he’s talking to?

“What do you want? That is the better question.”

“I told you, I’m looking for someone.”

“Yes, as you’ve said more than one time. Yet, you will not say who it is you are looking for,” he adds watching me.

“Well that would ruin the surprise now wouldn’t it?” I ask leaning forward as far as my bound arms will let me. He’s clearly annoyed with me and I suppose that’s not the best thing in the world but then again neither is being tied to a chair in the death basement. Every mafia has a basement they use to kill in. I would know. His hand slams against my face once more, effectively pissing me off. With a single slice left, I drag the blade through the final piece of the rope before I move.

Leaping from the chair, I move in on him. His eyes widen when he sees me coming, blade in hand. Just as he’s about to open his mouth, I drag the blade across his throat. Blood sprays as I jump back quickly not wanting to be covered by it. The asshole reaches up, trying to stop the bleeding with his hand but it’s too late. I know where to cut to make it a quick death. And as I thought, he’s going down quickly. As soon as his body hits the floor in a heap, I walk over and climb over him. Bending down, I dig through his pockets taking anything of value before grabbing his gun and keys.

“I’ll be needing these,” I tell his near lifeless body as I shake the keys in front of his eyes. A few gurgles sound through the room before there is only silence. “Took you long enough.” Brushing my hair out my face, I look down at my wrists assessing the damage the ropes did. Not too bad.

“Time to go,” I mumble to myself as I head for the door. Each step I take is quiet and calculated. I can’t risk anyone else finding me here. That asshole just happened to be near the door I was coming in when he found me. I knew what I was looking for wasn’t here though. I could