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

My eyes burn into her as I cycle through the photos, my chest clamping tightly, my balls swelling with the need to put my seed inside of her.

She’s the one. All this time, all this searching, and I’ve finally found her.

I stopped believing it would happen.

But it has. It is. It’s happening right now.

Vito drops a driver’s license on the bar. I glance down at the photo, staring into her eyes, at the slight smile at the corner of her lip.

She’s twenty-one years old, which is exactly half my age.

I wonder if that’ll bother her.

But it can’t. Whatever happens, I need to possess this woman.

No, I already own this woman.

She just doesn’t know it yet.

I clench my jaw as I devour the sight of her, my body roaring at me to go and find her, to find her now, to claim her in every way a man can claim a woman.

She belongs to me…

And this motherfucker wants me to kill her.

“She’s gotta go,” Vito says matter of fact, as though that’ll be the end of it. “Make her disappear, Ryland. We don’t want a body on this one.”

“Is that her mother?” I ask, nodding at the photo.

Vito shrugs and takes my whisky, knocking it back.

I resist the urge to glare at him. Vito is notoriously sensitive. He’s a fucking idiot, truth be told, a man who doesn’t know how to control his emotions. There’s nothing more pathetic than a man like that.

“Yeah, she’s got cancer or some shit,” he grunts. “At least, that’s the sob story she tried to give me when she stuck her nose where it ain’t wanted. You got her address on the license. You got her name. We’ll pay you double your usual rate for this one.”

I run my finger over the photo again, my hand trembling.

No, motherfucker, I want to roar. If you think I’m going to hurt this woman, you’re living in a fantasy world. I’d die – I’d kill – before I let anything happen to her.

But if I said that, we’d fight to the death right here.

Vito and his goons would pull their guns and I’d be forced to let out the beast inside of me, to throw myself at them with bloody intent.

Maybe I’d win, maybe I’d slaughter Vito and his men.

But then what? The Franzese family would be forced, out of honor, to hunt me, and I’d be forced to run or fight to the death.

Who would take care of my sweet Rosie then?

I need to play this right.

Vito grunts as he knocks back the last of my whisky, slamming the glass down.

“So, we’re sorted?” he says.

I collect the photos and drop them into the envelope, along with the driver’s license, slipping it into my inside jacket pocket.

Whatever happens now, I know this is the end of my hitman career. Lying to the mob carries a death sentence, and there’s no way I can get out of this without lying or killing them all, which also carries a death sentence.

“Yes,” I tell him.

Vito tilts his head at me, a vicious smirk smearing across his addict’s face. He’s looking at me like he owns me like he’s the big fucking dog.

He has no idea that I could end his life in the time it’d take him to blink.

I could grab that whisky glass and crush it against his face, and push, and keep pushing until shards of glass were embedded in his damn skull. He has no right to look at me like that. He has even less right to put a hit out on my goddamn woman.

I let this simmer beneath the surface, the beast in my chest beating a brutal drumbeat as I keep my face passive.

“You know, Ryland, some of the fellas thought there’d be a problem asking you to do a woman,” he says. “But I told them, nah, we just need the right price. How’ll you do it?”

I grit my teeth, my jaw pressing painfully against my cheeks.

“That’s none of your concern,” I tell him. “All you need to know is you’ll never see her again.”

He looks at me for a long moment. I can tell he thinks I’ve spoken to him disrespectfully, which is always the way with weak bastards like Vito. He’s so fragile, so terrified, that he has to act tough because he knows he really isn’t.

I stare at him, my face hard, and I see he’s debating whether or not to make something of my tone.

Then he chuckles and shakes his head.

“Just make sure to get it done quickly, alright? Can’t have some—”

He’s about to say bitch or slut or something else that’ll turn me feral.

“It’ll get it done,” I growl, interrupting him.

If I heard him speak about her like that, I know I’d lose control, and then I wouldn’t be able to protect her. I’d punch him so hard his jaw would dislocate by the time he’d hit the floor, and then I’d leap over the bar and go for my gun, stowed away in my padded secret jacket pocket where they never think to look when they’re searching me

“Well, alright then,” Vito grins. “Thanks for your time.”

I nod and stand up, making my way over to the door.

As I stride onto the street and over to my black sedan, my heart slams deafeningly in my ears. My stomach swirls and my seed roars at me, almost like it has a voice.

Nothing is ever going to be the same now, it growls. Protecting Rosie is all that matters.

What the hell am I going to do?

I don’t want to kidnap my woman.

I want her to need me as badly as I need her.

But I could just grab her. I own her, after all. I possess every curvy inch of her.

I pull out her photo as I sit behind the wheel, my cock getting stiffer each moment as I gaze at her luscious juicy ass trapped in a pair of jeans.

I let the photo drop and grip the