The Hitman's Dancer: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Snake Eyes Book 2) by Tabatha Kiss
Authors: Tabatha Kiss
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“There’s no real great way to say this and I know you shooting me is a possible consequence but I’m banking on the idea of you hearing me out before doing that…”
I lean back against the door, waiting silently for him to go on. When I say nothing, he fidgets on his feet.
“I want to hire you to kill my father and help me take over the family.”
My eyebrow twitches. “You what ?”
Marty stands up a little taller, forcing all his piddly confidence into his weak voice. “I want to hire you to kill my—”
“Don’t repeat that shit out loud, kid.”
“Someone needs to say it,” he says. “Might as well be me.”
“Why?”
“My father’s a thug — just like my grandfather was before him and my great-grandfather was before him.”
“So, what? Why fix what ain’t broken?”
He folds his hands in front of him, entwining his fingers together. I’ll hand it to him. He’s trying very hard to make himself look pretty badass right now and to a less savvy person, it’d probably work. “The system is broken, Hart. Every year, my family’s name loses a touch more of its credibility.” He turns up his nose. “I mean… calling out a hit on a man for twenty thousand in casino debt? Twenty? It’s pointless and petty and it sends the wrong message.”
I shrug. “Not arguing against that.”
“It’ll take a legitimate businessman to bring my family back to greatness, Hart.”
“And you’re that businessman, I take it?”
“Yes.”
“Why come to me?” I ask. “Why not just go to daddy with this shit?”
“Because you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. My father has always believed that the man with the highest body count controls Chicago. I disagree but he’s pretty set in his ways, as you yourself can probably attest to.”
“You’re assuming Chicago wants to change,” I point out, straightening up. “Like I said, there’s a reason why busting kneecaps never goes out of style. It works . Wearing a snazzy suit and shaking a few hands won’t change that.”
“I’d like to prove that wrong, Hart. I’d like to convince this city that diplomacy still exists in this world.” He takes a step forward. “I want you by my side when I do.”
Jesus fucking Christ. “You want me to be your partner-in-crime?” I ask, holding back a chuckle.
“I know what you did for the dancer man,” he says, raising his brow. “There’s no way he just stumbled on that money overnight and I don’t believe his daughter for a second when she says she paid it off.” I stare him down, refusing to blink. “You’ve got good business sense. We may not like each other much — at all , really — but I know potential when I see it. Also…” His face twitches, like a bad poker player with an ace up his sleeve. “It’s your fault that he’s still breathing at all right now.”
I pause, replaying the last twenty-four hours in my head, laying the pieces together. “You ordered the hit on the restaurant.”
“I did,” he says, pride oozing off his pathetic lips.
“Shooting up a public place full of people doesn’t exactly scream diplomacy-in-action to me, kid.”
“Sacrifices are a part of every war, Hart. Once my father makes his, you and I can rebuild Chicago into something greater .”
“I’m not interested.”
He inhales slowly, stretching way down into his bravery to quell the tremble in his voice. “If your girl didn’t waltz over to our table at that very moment, all of this would have ended last night.”
“You saying I owe you something?”
“I’m saying either you do… or she does.”
I dig my nails into my palms, deep enough to draw blood. “Leave her out of this.”
“Gladly,” he says. “Just help me take him out and all will be forgiven.”
“I’m not looking for a promotion, kid.”
“Is that a no, then?”
I pause, not even flinching at his sudden shift in patience. I really don’t have time for this crap but I can’t burn this bridge just yet. At
I lean back against the door, waiting silently for him to go on. When I say nothing, he fidgets on his feet.
“I want to hire you to kill my father and help me take over the family.”
My eyebrow twitches. “You what ?”
Marty stands up a little taller, forcing all his piddly confidence into his weak voice. “I want to hire you to kill my—”
“Don’t repeat that shit out loud, kid.”
“Someone needs to say it,” he says. “Might as well be me.”
“Why?”
“My father’s a thug — just like my grandfather was before him and my great-grandfather was before him.”
“So, what? Why fix what ain’t broken?”
He folds his hands in front of him, entwining his fingers together. I’ll hand it to him. He’s trying very hard to make himself look pretty badass right now and to a less savvy person, it’d probably work. “The system is broken, Hart. Every year, my family’s name loses a touch more of its credibility.” He turns up his nose. “I mean… calling out a hit on a man for twenty thousand in casino debt? Twenty? It’s pointless and petty and it sends the wrong message.”
I shrug. “Not arguing against that.”
“It’ll take a legitimate businessman to bring my family back to greatness, Hart.”
“And you’re that businessman, I take it?”
“Yes.”
“Why come to me?” I ask. “Why not just go to daddy with this shit?”
“Because you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. My father has always believed that the man with the highest body count controls Chicago. I disagree but he’s pretty set in his ways, as you yourself can probably attest to.”
“You’re assuming Chicago wants to change,” I point out, straightening up. “Like I said, there’s a reason why busting kneecaps never goes out of style. It works . Wearing a snazzy suit and shaking a few hands won’t change that.”
“I’d like to prove that wrong, Hart. I’d like to convince this city that diplomacy still exists in this world.” He takes a step forward. “I want you by my side when I do.”
Jesus fucking Christ. “You want me to be your partner-in-crime?” I ask, holding back a chuckle.
“I know what you did for the dancer man,” he says, raising his brow. “There’s no way he just stumbled on that money overnight and I don’t believe his daughter for a second when she says she paid it off.” I stare him down, refusing to blink. “You’ve got good business sense. We may not like each other much — at all , really — but I know potential when I see it. Also…” His face twitches, like a bad poker player with an ace up his sleeve. “It’s your fault that he’s still breathing at all right now.”
I pause, replaying the last twenty-four hours in my head, laying the pieces together. “You ordered the hit on the restaurant.”
“I did,” he says, pride oozing off his pathetic lips.
“Shooting up a public place full of people doesn’t exactly scream diplomacy-in-action to me, kid.”
“Sacrifices are a part of every war, Hart. Once my father makes his, you and I can rebuild Chicago into something greater .”
“I’m not interested.”
He inhales slowly, stretching way down into his bravery to quell the tremble in his voice. “If your girl didn’t waltz over to our table at that very moment, all of this would have ended last night.”
“You saying I owe you something?”
“I’m saying either you do… or she does.”
I dig my nails into my palms, deep enough to draw blood. “Leave her out of this.”
“Gladly,” he says. “Just help me take him out and all will be forgiven.”
“I’m not looking for a promotion, kid.”
“Is that a no, then?”
I pause, not even flinching at his sudden shift in patience. I really don’t have time for this crap but I can’t burn this bridge just yet. At
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