I’m a soldier. A killer. The Russian Elite.She’s a mafia princess. A job. A runaway bride.My business is death, however, I find myself manipulated into becoming a glorified babysitter to Adelina Ricci. She’s spoiled, naive, reckless, and yet she see’s parts of me I didn’t know existed. Makes me want things I had never even imagined. I will protect her from everything, but I can’t save her from me— that damage is already done.A lethal knight. A rebellious pawn. A lie that will ruin them both.Loathe me or love me?
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I absolutely adored Loathe Me. It was flawless to me. It was just the type of book I was looking for. I love assassin books especially when the guys are dead inside because when they fall. They fall hard! They are over the top possessive and aggressive.
Adelina is the second daughter of The Sicilian crime boss. She is living in her sister’ shadow. Her only use is to used through marriage an because of that, he life is now in danger. Her older sister seeks protection for Adelina in the form of a bodyguard. Sasha is a killing machine. Nothing fazes him. He is cold and aloof. Something that bothers Adelina a great deal. She feels inconsequential in his presence and the fact that he finds it irritating to talk to her. The hunt is on for Adelina and Sasha is the only one that can protect her. She just has to trust that he won’t kill her first.
I loved Adelina. I found her so fierce and selfless. Her life has basically being uprooted and a bodyguard that has been forced on her but she braves the storm head on. As you get more into the book, you get to see her characteristics and personality that you can’t help but admire. I loved that she defied Sasha every chance she got. She was no whimpering female. When it came time for her to take a stand and do what needs to be done, she did. And that’s how we got that cliffhanger that has me desperately aching for more. I need the next book like pronto.
“I know you heard that,” he says.
“Your footsteps are like a heard of elephants.” My gaze snaps to his and I glare. “I know you were listening.”
“You’re just going to let Gabi offer herself up.”
He inhales a deep breath, his broad chest rising and falling. “Your sister isn’t my problem. She contracted me to protect you, not her.”
I frown. “Wait, my father didn’t contract you?” Whatever slight imitation of an expression was on his face vanishes. “I want to speak to him.”
“If you wish to speak to Gabriella, that can be arranged.”
“What? Fine. Let me speak to her.” I hold my hand out for the phone, and he straightens away from the wall, moving past me to the kitchen.
“I’ll arrange it.”
“You literally just spoke to her!”
“So call her back,” I shout after him.
He ignores me and starts banging around, pulling out various pots and pans from the kitchen cabinets. “Sasha.” Still nothing. I get up and go in the kitchen. His back is to me as he turns on the stove. “Sasha.”
Still he ignores me, and my temper spikes. Anger and frustration at his blatant inability to give a shit bubble over in a red hot torrent. Stepping forward, I grab his arm with the intention of forcing his attention. I get a lot more than just his attention though. The second my palm makes contact with his skin, my back hits the wall and his hand slams around my neck. Those unsettling eyes are completely devoid. Blank. His grip tightens around my wind pipe, and I start to panic. He’s going to kill me. I slap over his forearm, my legs scrambling for purchase. “Sasha,” I manage to choke.
He blinks before finally focusing on me. A confused frown blankets his features, as though he can’t recall getting here. His grip loosens enough for me to suck in a deep breath, but he doesn’t release me. Instead, the tiny space between us closes, until his chest is plastered to mine, crushing my body. Warm breath fans over my face, and I twist my head to the side, avoiding that glacial gaze of his.
“I cannot decipher whether you are ignorant or simply stupid,” he says.
I try to buck away from the wall and he shoves me back so hard that my skull thuds against it. “Let go of me.”
His free hand grips my jaw in a bruising hold, forcing me to look at him. “I told you not to touch me, and yet here we are, Malyshka.”
“I want to talk to my sister.”
Those cold eyes sweep over me and a sickening shiver travels down my spine. I imagine he’s picturing snapping my neck. “What you want is of little consequence.” He shoves away from me, taking a deliberate step back. “You are insolent. Your childishness will be your downfall.”
The words cut far deeper than they should, and what little air is in my lungs, leaves in a rush. I turn and walk away without a word, rubbing over my aching throat. I have to get out of here and away from him. Though I know it’s a lot easier said than done. I feel like a mouse trying to wriggle out from under the paw of a lion. The odds are not in my favour.
To many, I am little more than a myth. The Kiss of Death, a hired killer, revered by some of the greatest criminal organisations in the world. Trained by the bratva themselves, without conscience, without mercy, the perfect soldier. I’ll kill anyone… for a price. Death doesn’t discriminate, she sells to the highest bidder, but even I have a weakness.
I want one thing—power. But power is merely a game of strategy. The pieces are on the chess board. Death is my queen, and also my pawn. She’ll paint this city red in exchange for the one thing she wants. Now all I have to do is watch it all play out. She’s nothing more than a weapon, and yet, I find myself wanting to dance with death, to possess her. And I always get what I want.
A game of power. A risk that could cost her everything. An obsession that would see the world burn at their feet. A bloodied king. A broken queen.
Kill me or kiss me?
*Prequel to Kill Me*
At thirteen years old I was sold, doomed to become a sex slave.
Nicholai Ivanov, boss of the Russian Bratva, gave me the ultimate gift. He saved me from a fate worse than death. He promised to make me strong, because only the strong survive, and the weak die, forgotten and inconsequential.
I now live in a world of blood and violence, where humanity itself is a weakness. My life is not a battle of bad and good, but bad and worse. This is kill or be killed, survival of the fittest.
Make me or break me?
About the Author:
Twitter: @AuthorlplovellLauren Lovell is an indie author from England.She suffers from a total lack of brain to mouth filter and is the friend you have to explain before you introduce her to anyone, and apologise for afterwards.Lauren is a self-confessed shameless pervert, who may be suffering from slight peen envy.LP loves to hear from readers so please get in touch.