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and two guys came into view, laughing and smoking as they strode casually through the street. She waited until they were within ten feet of her chosen shrub before making her entrance.

“This asshole again,” one of them said, dropping his cigarette.

Jasper. Riley remembered him. He seemed like a decent man, funny and respectful at times. It was a pity he had fallen into Julius’s claws, and it was also a pity Riley would have to end him.

“We’re gonna have so much fun with you,” Jasper said, cracking his knuckles. He assumed a defensive pose while his partner, Enzo, stepped closer to Riley.

Enzo was the first to attack her, and soon Jasper joined in the skirmish. They worked well together, quickly finding a way to keep her defenseless and taking her by surprise over and over again. Riley felt she was losing the battle when she landed on the pavement and both men began rapidly kicking every inch of her body.

In a last-ditch effort, Riley pretended she was unconscious or dead, and let the men rejoice long enough for her to gather all her strength to stand again. When she couldn’t bring herself to her feet, she resorted to her emergency plan, slowly pulling her Glock from her jeans.

As the men high-fived each other, she quickly fired one shot at each man’s head. Seconds later, Jasper and Enzo were on the ground, blood slowly pouring from the red circles in the middle of their foreheads.

Chapter Forty-Two

Riley was exhausted, tonight’s fight more painful than the others. As she limped home in the shadows, she could think of little more than a relaxing shower and her fluffy bed.

When she closed the back door behind her, she noticed the lights were still on throughout the house, even though Adrian had fallen asleep on the couch.

She didn’t want to wake him, so she slowly walked toward the bathroom, until she heard a hoarse voice calling her name.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’m gonna take a shower. Go back to sleep.”

Adrian stood up from the couch and walked toward her. His fingers grazed over her face, looking for any signs of blood. His hand stopped on the bruise on her lip and the dry blood on her nose. “I’m all right. It looks worse than it is.”

“Did you kill them?” Adrian asked quickly. Riley refused to give details; she just nodded.

“Both,” Riley said. Adrian sighed heavily and moved away from her, as if he were ashamed. “You asked me, but you’re more than free to step aside if you want to.”

“No, I told you I’m already in. It’s just, I’ve known those men for a while, it’s hard to hear you say they’re dead. Just like that,” Adrian said. Riley removed her hoodie, revealing a black tank top. She pushed it up, showing Adrian a few cuts across her abdomen and several bruises on her ribs. He moved toward her again and stared at her wounds.

“These are the things your friends do, Adrian. The ones you want to mourn, the ones I know you regret being dead. They’re not good people, they never were. And neither is your brother,” Riley said. She could see the pain in his eyes, probably not for the men she had killed, maybe for her. Or at least that’s how she felt it; she could be wrong.

When his lips crashed against hers in a hungry, desperate kiss, she knew the sorrow he had felt was for her. Adrian didn’t care she was a murderer, an assassin of some sort, a hero for some. He wanted to feel her, to touch her, maybe even to protect her with his soft caressing. Maybe it wasn’t enough, but perhaps it was what they both needed.

His mouth gently, determinedly, trailed kisses across her jaw and down her neck. Before she could push him away, his mouth had found her weakness, a spot toward the back of her neck and just below her ear.

It had been five years since she’d been kissed like this.

In their time together, Riley had learned not to expect much from Santino after he came home from work. It was usually late, and he was always exhausted. They’d share a quiet meal before falling into bed, asleep before they hit the sheets. Date nights were rare, and nights out on the town were almost a fantasy.

But on their last night together, Santino had taken Riley to her favorite restaurant, a quiet Italian bistro halfway between their home and the local park. She’d worn an emerald dress that made her hair appear to glow, smiling when she realized it was already growing a little snug across her hips. As she closed the zipper, she looked forward to the moment she’d tell Santino about the baby, and apologize for waiting so long to tell him. She knew he’d understand that she’d only waited to be sure, and he would probably shed a rare tear that he saved for special occasions, like when he’d proposed and she’d been wearing this same dress.

Riley was just finishing her lipstick when Santino walked into the room, his white dress shirt still unbuttoned as he applied her favorite cologne. She’d read stories of women whose favorite smells made them nauseous during pregnancy, but she only found his chosen scent even more intoxicating.

Mickey had picked them up and driven them to the restaurant. They dined at their favorite corner table in the back. She knew Santino liked the spot because he could keep an eye on his surroundings, and his men didn’t have to guard his back if it was against the wall, but she let him pretend he’d convinced her it was for romantic privacy.

When he toasted the meal, Riley pretend to take a sip. He’d ordered her favorite wine, and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings by rejecting it. Before he could notice, though, he was pulled away by one of his men for an urgent call, and

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