Right

By Jove Chambers

Giovanni Gallo is going to kill Sable Clarke.

She deserves it. A woman like her, doing a violent job like she does. Plus, his family’s got beef with her. This is the one way he can prove to them that he’s worthy of his father’s respect.

He just doesn’t expect her to be so... attractive.

Yeah, Giovanni is going to kill Sable. Not fall for her. He can’t fall for her.

This is a novella set in the Contract Killers universe with cameos from other couples from previous books. There is a HEA and no cliffhanger.

• Language: English
• Publisher: V. J. Chambers
• Release date: Jul 21, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463547809

Jove Chambers

Jove Chambers is the dark romance pen name for USA Today bestselling author, V. J. Chambers. Most of her books were originally published under that name.

Book preview

Right

a Hitman Novella

by Jove Chambers

RIGHT

© copyright 2016 by Jove Chambers

http://vjchambers.com

Punk Rawk Books

CHAPTER ONE

Giovanni

I hadn’t expected her to be attractive.

I wouldn’t have thought that, what with her being a contract killer and all. Kind of girl who’d do something like that with her life, well, I figured she’d be ugly. Masculine. I figured she’d look like one of those female body builders. I figured…

Hell.

She was hot.

Her name was Sable Clarke. Well, anyway, that was what everyone called her. I didn’t know if that was her real name, considering that people in her line of work tended to use aliases. My own cousin worked for the same organization as her, and he called himself Danger or some shit like that. I thought it was silly, grown-ass men walking around calling themselves stupid names.

It happened in my family as well, however. Lots of men in the mafia had cutesy little nicknames. My uncle was known as Shorty, even though he was six foot three. Sometimes people called my brother Bullets.

Maybe it was inevitable, because the kind of work we did, it was sometimes hard to take. Naming things changed stuff. There was power in words. You didn’t call it murder, you called it a hit. You called it whacking. You called it a job.

It made it easier.

Still, whenever my family had called upon me to do that particular service before, no matter what they’d called it, I hadn’t found it easy. I’d only done it a few times, and I always made sure to knock them out first. Didn’t want them to feel pain. Plus, I didn’t like their eyes on me.

Listen to me, I sound like a fucking psycho.

I’m a good guy.

I mean… as good as a guy can be when he grows up in one of the biggest crime families on the east coast. I was never going to grow up and be a priest. Well, if I was, I would have been the kind of who steals out of the collection plate.

I’m a Gallo.

No matter what, being born into this family was always going to be the thing that defined me.

Anyway, the girl.

I was going to kill her.

That was why I’d gone to the trouble of getting her here in the first place. I’d been tracking her, waiting for her, and it hadn’t been easy to find her. But when I’d gotten news that she was coming in on a plane, I’d been at the airport, and I’d taken her.

I’d crept up on her from behind, stuck a needle full of sedative in her neck, and I’d dragged her away.

Now, she was lying on a big plastic tarp that I’d spread out over the floor of the basement of the Gallo family pizzeria, Mario’s. The basement was often used for this kind of mob business.

She looked so innocent and sweet.

I’d never killed a woman before.

I knelt down on the tarp next to her and I cocked my head to one side, taking her in.

Damn.

See, when I’d been tracking her, I’d been doing it all through electronic stuff. Credit card trails, cell phones, stuff like that. My little cousin Danny was real good with computer stuff. He’d been helping me out, although he didn’t know what it was for. He was just a kid, only thirteen, and I didn’t want him too mixed up in it all yet. Still, his skills were pretty useful.

Anyway, when I finally saw her, it had just really thrown me for a loop. She had short-cropped hair, and she was tall, which you might think makes her sound kind of tough and masculine. But the thing was, she was delicately built, so her height only highlighted how small her wrists were, how graceful her slim arms were. Her short hair brought out her features—big eyes, elegantly-shaped lips.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

I straightened, and I walked around her in a circle, taking her in from all angles. I looked at the swell of her hips, at her breasts. She was lying in a heap, and her shirt was coming unbuttoned, and I could see her cleavage and her bra. It was lacy and black.

I felt a stirring in my balls.

Goddamn it, no.

I was not going to get turned on by this chick.

I was going to kill her.

I was not a psycho, and there was no way I was ever going to let this killing thing be mixed up with… with…

The thought of killing being even the slightest bit sexual made me feel like vomiting.

Luckily, whatever was going on down south seemed to calm down.

I didn’t know why I was dragging it out, anyway. I should just get on with it, put the gun to the back of her skull, blow her away. Done.

But I hadn’t done it yet.

Because she was hot? Because she was a woman?

I didn’t know.

Maybe it was because I had formulated this whole plan on my own. I wasn’t killing this woman under orders or anything. No, this was just something I’d cooked up myself.

See, this Sable chick had nearly killed my father. Like I said, she killed people for money, so it wasn’t like she was innocent or something. She was probably a psycho, and I shouldn’t have any trouble shooting her. What kind of woman takes money to kill people?

No, there was clearly something wrong with her, and she should probably just be taken out to put her out of her psychological misery.

Sable worked for an organization that had ties to the government. They weren’t military, but some of the contractors who worked within the organization were ex-military. We didn’t know who had hired her to kill my dad. It could have been the authorities, or it could have been a rival gang. The De Luca family, for instance, was always doing what it could to thin our numbers. We had issues with the Bratva, the Russian mob, too. The Mikailhov family in particular.

Anyway, she didn’t kill my father. She bungled the job, he made her, and—for a long time—there was an active hit on Sable. Anyone who saw her was to take her down, on orders from the top.

That was when my uncle Rafael Gallo was running things.

But last spring, Uncle Rafael got whacked, probably on the order of the De Lucas. Anyway, that meant that his son Marcus stepped up to take over this stuff, and he said that wasting time on trying to kill Sable Clarke, who hadn’t actually killed anyone, was stupid. He said we should all let it go.

My dad was steamed.

So, that was