Savage Sinner
Sinfully Savage: Book Four
Kristen Luciani
Contents
1. Anya
2. Anya
3. Anya
4. Dante
5. Anya
6. Dante
7. Anya
8. Dante
9. Anya
10. Dante
11. Anya
12. Dante
13. Anya
14. Anya
15. Dante
16. Anya
17. Dante
18. Anya
19. Anya
20. Anya
21. Dante
22. Anya
23. Dante
24. Anya
25. Dante
26. Anya
27. Dante
28. Anya
Epilogue
Sneak Peek of Corrupted Crown
Thanks For Reading!
Meet Kristen
Savage Sinner © 2021 by Kristen Luciani
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
Except for the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles, and lyrics mentioned in this novel are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, scanned, distributed, or used in any manner whatsoever, via the Internet, electronic, or print, without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For more information, or information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact Kristen Luciani at kluciani@gmail.com.
Cover Design: Book Cover Kingdom
Editing: Allusion Graphics
Photo Credit: Rafa Catala
Created with VellumChapter One
Anya
I tug hard on the brass handle, pulling open the heavy steel door that leads into the ominous underbelly of Tatiana in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn.
At four o’clock in the afternoon, the parking lot of Vigo Kosolov’s premier nightclub and restaurant is empty save for two cars.
Vigo’s Mercedes-Maybach S 560 and my Uncle Boris’s Honda Accord.
I swallow hard, the ache in the back of my throat a very clear warning that this whole setup is bad with a capital B. Vigo doesn’t just take quaint pre-dinner meetings with his rivals and their nieces.
Makes me wonder who else might be inside and didn’t park in plain sight.
A shiver runs through me, and I adjust my glasses. I prefer to wear contacts, but the glasses give me a geeky appearance that is easily forgettable. Helps me stay invisible for the times when I need to do my job.
And by job, I mean, kill people for money.
I work for my uncle as an assassin for the Volkov Bratva. He took me and my brother, Maks, under his wing ten years ago when we escaped the Ukraine.
More specifically, when we escaped our parents’ murderers in the Ukraine.
But devastation continued to follow us.
Six months ago, my brother Maks fell prey to the bratva life and was shot to death in a parking lot for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I’ve been picking up the pieces of my shattered existence ever since, but my heart?
No amount of the strongest Gorilla Glue can patch it back together.
My best friend is gone.
Forever.
And my time since then has been spent extinguishing the lives of scumbags like the guy who pulled the trigger.
I guess maybe in some sick and twisted way, it’s been therapeutic.
But the only real way I can move on is if I find the person responsible and slit his throat from ear to ear. I keep thinking my Uncle Boris will uncover a name and an address and give me the order.
I’ve been holding on to that hope for a long time.
Maybe one day it’ll become a reality.
My sneakers squeak against the polished floor as I venture slowly into the labyrinth underneath the restaurant. My hand is closed tight around my gun as I walk. Vigo runs an underground casino here, as well as his own sex trafficking ring. Girls are brought in under the guise that they’re interviewing for waitressing positions, and he puts them to work so that his patrons can put in their bids.
It’s disgusting, and I’ve toyed with the idea of killing him several times since the big boss, Ivan Volkov, brought him up the ranks, trampling my uncle in the process.
Vigo’s fucked with my uncle plenty and deserves to have his lips pulled through his asshole.
But I stand down because Uncle Boris has been in enough trouble lately, most recently because of an altercation he had in Manhattan with the Villani crime family.
Vigo is one of the bratva’s top earners and is considered untouchable.
At least, that’s what he tells everyone.
I’d like to prove that claim fucking false.
I knock at a large red door at the end of the hallway, cringing at the loud crash that follows.
What in the fuck?
The door swings open, and I’m yanked inside of the room.
“You thought you could pull this little partnership off on your own, Boris? Huh? After you fucked up so badly last time?” Vigo bellows as one of his guys shoves me into a chair, holding me down as Vigo hurls another glass against a wall.
“You’re fucking old, sloppy, and a goddamn pussy to boot!” He thunders as shards fly all over the floor.
“Leave him the fuck alone!” I screech, struggling against the grip of the men holding me down. I have no idea what partnership he’s talking about, but I’m willing to bet he’s pissed off and wants a piece of it because he’s such a greedy fuck.
Vigo looks up, a murderous glimmer in his eyes as he walks toward me. “Anya, I’m so glad you could join us. I wanted you to hear why your brother walked into a trap that got him killed, and why your life is a fucking dead-end!” He smacks his hand hard against my uncle’s head. “It’s because of him. Your dear uncle who couldn’t stop the shit storm from raining down on you both! You think he can protect you? You think he gives a flying fuck about you?” Vigo screams into my face. “Well, he doesn’t. He only gives a shit about himself and about how much money he can fuck people out of. What kind of a future do you think you’re gonna have with this guy dragging around behind you like a ball and chain?”
“He does plenty for this organization!” I shriek, thrusting my shoulder backward into the chest of one of the guys. “And you’re a fucking scumbag pig! He didn’t have anything to do with the hit on Maks!”
Vigo chuckles, but it’s a low, ominous sound. He drags the back of his hand down the side of my face, and just as my leg is about to jut out and kick him in the balls, two of his guys shove me back down into the chair. He leans over me, his stank cigarette breath making my stomach roll. “You’d better remember who the boss is, sweetheart. Because I will tear the skin from your body before I drive an ice pick through your heart if you ever mouth off to me like that again.”
“Goddamn you!” Uncle Boris yells, kicking over a table and pulling Vigo away from me. “Don’t you fucking touch her!” He goes to grab the knife he’s always packing around his right calf, but Vigo’s guys are faster and they have their guns pointed at him before he can grip the blade.
Vigo closes his hand around my uncle’s throat, pushing him backward against a wall. “The only reason why you’re still alive is because Ivan hasn’t given me the go-ahead to kill you,” he seethes. “Family loyalty or some shit like that. But it’ll only get you so far. I’m taking the reins, Boris, and nobody can stop me. You had so many chances to prove your strength, and nobody gives a fuck. Nobody is threatened. The Villani family kicked you out of Manhattan, do you remember? You went there with a kill order, to take out the people who murdered your nephew, and you couldn’t even finish the job! Those greasy bastards cut you down in front of your guys and sent you back to Brooklyn with your dick in your hand. They may as well have sliced off your balls! You’re pathetic! You couldn’t even avenge his death!”