Hitman’s Pet (Book 1): A Knife to the Heart Hitman Romance, #1

By Heather West

This is book 1 of A Knife to the Heart Hitman Romance trilogy. Books 2 and 3 are available everywhere now!

Buying her was wrong. But I did it anyways.

A good man might have let her go.

But I'm not a good man – I'm a hitman.

So I'm going to do what only a very bad man would do:

Chain her down and break her.

MAGGIE

I always thought I'd be scared when I hit rock bottom.

But now that I'm finally here, all I feel is…

Nothing.

Empty.

Numb.

But there's no denying that things are as bad as they could possibly be.

I'm out on the streets in the middle of the winter.

Dumped and kicked out by an abusive, scumbag, drug-dealing boyfriend.

No money. No friends. No hope.

And then – somehow, someway – things get even worse.

BLADE

Have you ever been unable to stop yourself from doing something?

Like your body is moving without you controlling it?

Your mouth is saying things without your consent?

That's what I felt that night.

Like an out-of-body experience.

Maybe it was fate.

Maybe it was karma.

Or maybe it was the fact that the girl on the stage was the most perfect thing I'd ever laid eyes on.

In all my time running the auctions, I'd never once intervened.

The men around me who bought the girls on display were pigs, animals, savages.

But with one raised hand, one fist full of cash…

I became one of them.

I still don't know what came over me.

But now that I'm here, alone with her, with not a stitch of clothing to keep my hands off her glowing skin…

I'm glad I did it.

I'm glad I bought her.

Because even though she's perfect and flawless, innocent and pure…

I'm about to break her to pieces.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sopris Page Press
• Release date: May 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393430575

Book preview

Hitman’s Pet: A Mafia Hitman Romance (Book 1)

By Heather West

Buying her was wrong. But I did it anyways.

A GOOD MAN MIGHT HAVE let her go.

But I’m not a good man – I’m a hitman.

So I’m going to do what only a very bad man would do:

Chain her down and break her.

MAGGIE

I always thought I’d be scared when I hit rock bottom.

But now that I’m finally here, all I feel is...

Nothing.

Empty.

Numb.

But there’s no denying that things are as bad as they could possibly be.

I’m out on the streets in the middle of the winter.

Dumped and kicked out by an abusive, scumbag, drug-dealing boyfriend.

No money. No friends. No hope.

And then – somehow, someway – things get even worse.

BLADE

Have you ever been unable to stop yourself from doing something?

Like your body is moving without you controlling it?

Your mouth is saying things without your consent?

That’s what I felt that night.

Like an out-of-body experience.

Maybe it was fate.

Maybe it was karma.

Or maybe it was the fact that the girl on the stage was the most perfect thing I’d ever laid eyes on.

In all my time running the auctions, I’d never once intervened.

The men around me who bought the girls on display were pigs, animals, savages.

But with one raised hand, one fist full of cash...

I became one of them.

I still don’t know what came over me.

But now that I’m here, alone with her, with not a stitch of clothing to keep my hands off her glowing skin...

I’m glad I did it.

I’m glad I bought her.

Because even though she’s perfect and flawless, innocent and pure...

I’m about to break her to pieces.

Prologue

Maggie

W hat’s a pretty little girl like you doing out here? the dirty man with rotten teeth asked me. Filthy clothes hung off him like they were ready to give up. He wore an old baseball cap to keep his matted hair pulled back from his face. I couldn’t count how many layers he wore under what looked like a windbreaker. I noticed several shirt collars around his neck, and a ratty pair of gloves that only covered up to the middle knuckle.

I didn’t say anything. I just pressed myself against the brick wall along the side of the dark alleyway and tried to disappear. It was cold and dark, even with the streetlight glowing down at the end of the alleyway where it opened onto the main road and the sidewalk. I didn’t belong here, and I certainly wasn’t going to entertain the locals.

Hey, it’s not safe for people like you out here, he continued.

People like me. You used to be people like me, I told him.

The old homeless man tilted his head, and it looked like he had tears in his eyes. Here, let me help you out. It’s going to be cold out tonight, he said, shuffling away to the fort made of cardboard boxes where he lived. I watched as he grabbed a few blankets and jackets.

I pulled the hood of my own coat over my head. Even though my coat was thick and padded, I still shivered from the cold. My jeans weren’t thick enough or warm enough to be out all night, especially not if I was trying to sleep on the street, but I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I had left the house without my purse, my keys, or my phone. There was no way to call anyone for help, no money for a room, nothing. There was just me, trying to cuddle against the outside brick wall of a building for warmth.

Here you go, dear. Wrap this around you for warmth, the old man said as he returned with a dingy old blanket.

I didn’t reach for it immediately, and he saw the hesitation in my eyes.

It’s dry, it doesn’t stink too much, and it will keep you warm. I try to keep my house over there smelling good. I don’t want to stink like some of these guys out here, he assured me with a hoarse little laugh that sounded more like a smoker’s cough.

I reached out cautiously and took the blanket from him. I held it up to my nose and sniffed it. It smelled like one of those tree-shaped car air fresheners. Thank you, I said as I pulled it up over me.

Hey, it’s okay. Just for the night, okay? If you’re going to stay out here tomorrow, you’re going to need to find a box or two. I can help you get set up out here. If you can keep dry, it’s not so bad, he said, smiling.

I had made a friend.

It’s just for the night, I told him. I’ve got to figure something else out tomorrow. If I hadn’t left Axel in such a hurry, there wouldn’t have been as much to figure out.

One hell of a time to find yourself on the street, right here at Christmas. I’m sorry about your luck, lady. I don’t know why you’re here, and I don’t really care, but you let me know if you need anything tonight. He turned around and started to shuffle back over to his little fort.

He was right. Christmas was a hell of a time to end up on the street, mainly because it was so damn cold. Luckily, it hadn’t rained much recently, so it was relatively dry out.

Christmas was a rough time anyway. I hated the holiday. Every year I could remember had been rough. I supposed there were years when I was little that had to have been good, but I couldn’t remember them.

My father died on Christmas one year. It was the first year that came through clearly in my memory. Instead of coming into the living room to find Santa Claus had been to our house, my brother and I woke to the sound of our mother talking to the police. We never saw the body. He had been removed from the house before we woke up.

After that, our family descended into poverty. Eventually, on another Christmas morning, our mother just disappeared. Once again, instead of celebrating a visit from Santa, we spent the day talking to the police. Well, I did. I made sure Peter was preoccupied with the toys that our mother had put under the tree for him before she left.

I never found out what happened to her. Social Services took us and put into the system. Luckily, we were able to go to the same foster home, where we grew up together. Christmases there were rough, too, but not because we were abandoned or because our foster family enjoyed dying on the holidays. No, instead, their favorite past time was beating the shit out of the little snot nosed brats who lived in the house with them – us.

I didn’t blame Peter when he joined the Army to get out of that prison. He came back whenever he had a chance. One year, he came back right before Christmas to let us know he was being deployed to fight in the Middle East. They were sending his unit over so a handful of guys could finally come home to see their families. I never saw Peter again.

Things got worse after my little brother disappeared, so I left and moved in with my boyfriend at the time. When I started living with the guys I went out with, there was never a shortage of beds. Guys were always willing to let me sleep over or move in with them.

Then, I met Axel, and for the first time in a long, long time, I felt like I had found something permanent. I should have known better. They all started the same way, as the perfect guy who wasn’t going to turn out to be anything like the rest. Then, after they got comfortable, after they got in my pants and we started saying I love you, it all went to shit.

It was almost Christmas again, and Axel had hauled off and hit me, sending me out of his house in such a rage that I left everything except the jacket I pulled from the coat rack by the