The Colt & The Cobra - THE SPECTER SERIES [book six]

Chapter FIFTY

Mikki De'lucca

After hopping the subway turnstile and dodging the conductor checking tickets on the train, you emerge from the underground on the downtown streets..

You've never felt more out of place; with bright barbie-doll blonde hair, still dressed in Juliette's Country clothes, a denim mini-skirt that is a little too tight and a buttercup yellow scoop-neck tee with 'Howdy Honey' printed across the chest in bold red..

Ridiculous fucking clothes.. You'd feel far more confident in a pair of designer jeans, but you suppose beggars can't be choosers.. Still, you can't help but notice all the strange looks you've been catching from commuters since leaving the safehouse.

"Fuck, it's cold.." You grumble, attempting to tug the short denim skirt down as you walk, your boots scraping the pavement while you wander tiredly towards the illuminated sign of a Russian owned Dice house that glows up ahead.

'Brat Na Pont - Russkiy Ruletka' reads the underground casino logo, an emblem formed inside an eight-pointed star you recognise as the Thieve's star. The badge of the Bratva Brotherhood.

Oliver had mentioned coming to this place to meet with his Bratva contact who he only ever mentioned to you by the name of 'The Hellhound'.. But the way Oliver spoke about the hit-man who would kill your father, made it sound as though there was a familiarity between the two, a friendship even..

Maybe The Hellhound will care that Oliver is missing and feel inclined to indulge your request.. Or maybe he will kill you before you even get a chance to explain.. Ironically enough, there couldn't be a more appropriate venue than the dicehouse to make this gamble.. But all you know now is that you can't go back to the estate unprepared.. And you have no money..

So there is really only one thing left for you to trade.. Once again you are reduced to the only perceived value you ever had as the Don's Daughter..

With an irresistibly sweet smile and tempting soft flesh, you will trade yourself.. Over and over again, until either Colt is free or you are dead, whichever comes first... That is the price, the consequence of your actions..

Taking a deep, steadying breath, you brush your fingers back through your golden curls and pinch your cheeks for colour, whispering quiet words of encouragement to yourself.. "You can do this, Mikkalia, you're a badass-bitch.. You're a fucking killer.."

You remind yourself to think gangster thoughts as you push your way through the old dice house doors..

The rumbling chatter in the bar falls deathly silent as your boots hit the floorboards and every evil eye, glinting with recognition, turns on you.. Every man in this room has done time, every one of them hardened by the system. Every one of them is as cold-blooded as your father.

Oh.. Shit.. Have you lost your damn mind, Mikki?!

You take one step, then another, pressing forward until you reach the bar, clearing the nerves from your throat to speak.. "Uhem.. Excuse me? I'm looking for The Hellhound.."

The bartender's eyes widen in alarm as he lifts a hand to wave off the others, who have now risen from their tables, slinking closer to listen and watch.. None of them seem sure of how to deal with the fact you have just crawled into the kennel they call home turf to lay down with dogs.. If fleas are all you leave this place with, you would count yourself lucky..

All of these lecherous thugs are planning on doing god knows what, you can practically feel the animosity in the air as they strategize their wicked intentions; abducting you, ransoming you, raping you.. You can feel their malice melting through to your bones..