Maid for the Hitman: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Flora Ferrari (summer beach reads TXT) 📖

“With all due respect, Ryland,” Harold says, “you didn’t answer her question.”

That’s right.

What the fuck am I going to do?

I turn away from Rosie, holding my shoulders square, standing up straight. I slow my breathing, welcoming the iron-veined calm my father taught me when I was a boy.

He taught me how to fight through hell and not even feel the flames.

“What do you think?” I growl, pressing the hidden button on the wall, inside the wall paneling.

The mechanism hums and then the wall folds inward, revealing a long table with guns set into gun-shaped holes… and all kinds of grenades, a knuckle-duster, a bow and arrows, and a couple of knives.

“I’m going to save him,” I say, leaning forward for a flash bang grenade.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Rosie

I sit in the sealed bunker, crossed-legged on the bed, my heart hammering into my throat as I stare down at the security tablet. It shows four security feeds, one of them inside the house, showing Ryland stalking up to the doorway and lay his back flat against it.

We’re in the dormitory-style bedroom, with Mom asleep on the other side, snoring softly, with no idea of the craziness going on around her.

Harold sits on the edge of another bed, his hands maniacally moving over Chopper’s fur. The little Chihuahua grins, purring contentedly, as though he knows how badly Harold needs hope right now.

When I asked Harold if he wanted to look at the screen, he shook his head and strode away from me. His eyes were cold, hard. He’s waiting now.

I stare down, double-checking that the sound is off.

The last thing I need is for Harold to hear this, even if I desperately want to hear it, to be as close to Ryland as I can get right now.

Vito is shouting something.

I lean down, turning the volume up a little.

“It’s okay,” Harold says. “I can listen. I just don’t want to see.”

“Okay, thank you,” I say, selfish gratitude moving through me.

“You can’t hide forever,” Vito yells.

Ryland’s face is completely calm as he pulls the metal cylinders from his pocket, fiddling with them and then sliding closer to the door. He moves with the grace of a jungle cat, every movement coming effortlessly, with the implication of massive power underneath it all.

“You motherfucker. I’ll kill you and then I’ll rape that fucking slut of yours.”

Ryland’s face changes, his jaw tightening.

No, I scream in my mind. You have to be calm. He wants you angry.

Moving in a blur of motion, Ryland opens the door just enough to throw the grenades.

He tosses three, all with perfect accuracy, the grenades landing between the men in a staggered pattern.

Bang-bang-bang.

The men all stagger backward, roaring, some of them bringing their hands to their faces.

Ryland is already moving, sprinting across the short field. He moves like a professional football player, like a man half his age. He moves better than any high schooler I ever saw in track.

He ducks his head and sprints.

Vito is spinning in circles, blinded, and just as he turns to face Ryland, Ryland ducks and lays him off his feet.

Vito lets out a cry and Ryland drags him to his feet in a deft roll, slipping his massive arm around his neck.

Ryland puts his other hand behind his head, trapping him there, standing with his back to Thomas to partially shield him.

He moved so fast.

That whole thing took less than two seconds if that.

He’s the most athletic man I’ve ever seen.

Maybe age really is just a number.

By the time Vito’s men have recovered their vision, Ryland already has him in a stranglehold, lifting him almost off the ground. Vito is as big as Ryland, but Ryland makes him look tiny as he handles him with ease.

“Is anyone willing to risk shooting their boss’s son?” Ryland growls.

The men exchange looks, shrugging, completely at a loss.

“Tell them to drop their fucking guns, you snake fuck.”

Vito cries out as Ryland presses his arm down even harder on Vito’s neck.

He didn’t just beat them with brawn, with his animal strength. He used his predator-sharp wits to outsmart them, and his lion focus to execute his plan.

“Drop them,” Vito gasps. “It’s over.”

“Thomas, go inside,” Ryland snaps.

The red haired man walks toward the house, moving as though dazed. At the same time, the men start dropping their weapons, a couple of them laying their guns down at first. The rest soon follow, standing in an uncertain semicircle around Ryland and his hostage.

“How fucking dumb are you?” Ryland snarls. “You thought you could threaten my woman, my family. Look at the house and apologize, before I snap your goddamn neck.”

“I’m sorry,” he whines, his eyes bulging as Ryland squeezes onto him. “Please, please, I’m sorry…”

“Rosie,” Ryland barks.

“Rosie,” he cries. “I’m sorry for being so disrespectful, for being such an asshole. Okay? I’m sorry.”

Ryland spins around, dragging Vito with him. Vito moans as his legs fly, kicking like a child in Ryland’s iron grip.

“The Feds are on their way,” Ryland snarls. “Unless you want to spend the rest of your worthless lives locked up with this piece of shit, I suggest you run. Now.”

The men exchange another look, shrug, and then turn and walk into the growing darkness of the forest.

“Motherfuckers,” Vito cries. “Come back here. I’m in charge. I’m in—”

He cuts off when Ryland squeezes his massive arm with even more force.

“Do you feel in charge?” Ryland growls.

I look up to find that Harold is gone. I glance back down at the tablet and see that he’s in the hallway, with Thomas in his arms.

“No,” Vito gasps. “I’m sorry. Ryland, I’m sorry, to you, to Rosie, to her mom, to everyone. Please.”

Ryland pulls him toward the house, moving backward so that he can keep Vito in front of him, maybe just in case one of his men decides to come back. But it’s just Ryland and Vito, and soon he drags Vito into the house, kicking the door closed behind him.

I leap up and rush through the house, Chopper rumbling from beside me as