Vigo’s smile widens. “I like a girl who’s hopeless. Makes me wanna do things to her, things no decent woman would ever allow, but because she needs me to save her, she’ll let me. Just thinking about it makes my dick drip.” He snickers. “Maybe I’ll invite your pathetic uncle to come and watch me fuck his niece. Just knowing you came to me because he couldn’t get you what you need…I fucking love it.”
Uncle Boris is a lot of things, but he saved my brother and me from our own personal hell. Yeah, my life here in Brooklyn is far from glamorous, but it’s better than being dead.
Most days, anyway.
There are always exceptions.
Like the day I have to swallow a cock like Vigo’s.
“He is over, Anya. The Italians fucked him over and humiliated him. Volkov almost had him killed after starting shit with the Villanis over your brother. And I know he’s suffering because he doesn’t have a pot to piss in now. He’s hurting and he’s taking you down in flames with him.” Vigo settles back against the chair. “But I can fix all that. For you.”
I swallow hard. Yes, my uncle made a dumbass move by going after the Villani family and then walking away. Yes, we’ve been struggling to make ends meet for far too long. And yes, I’m here tonight to help him get back in good with Volkov so he can start getting the big jobs again.
Volkov has two loves — power and money.
And I’m the only one who can help fix my uncle’s shitty situation and get Volkov more of what he wants.
It’s all part of this secret fucking ‘plan’.
I allow the corners of my lips to curl upward as I grip Vigo’s cock, running my hands up and down the shaft. My stomach roils, but I do it because I owe my uncle.
God, I owe him so much…
He’s the only family I have left.
I need to do this.
Vigo will pay for everything he’s taken from us.
It’s my personal mission to make sure everybody suffers that fate they deserve, and my list of targets is long.
But first thing’s first.
This piece of shit has to go.
“There’s something I’d like to do…for you,” I say. “To thank you for helping me…help my uncle.” And with my free hand, I grab the blade from the Velcro holding it to my upper thigh and drive it into his chest. The shocked expression on his face assaults my heart for a split second, the unwelcome sensation all too familiar to me every time I do a hit.
The excruciating memories always bubble up to the surface right about now, when I’m watching the life drain from the eyes of my kill. It’s then when I wonder if my parents’ killers saw the same horrified looks the second they took those machetes to their throats.
Did they feel anything? Or was it all just business to them?
Because even though Vigo is the dredge-of-the-earth kind of bastard who had to be punished, I still feel a twinge of remorse staring down at him.
My parents were good people. They were sweet, loving, and kind; the best parents I could ever ask for.
Did their killers feel that same twinge? Did they have any remorse for stealing them away from me and my brother?
Or was it just business?
Because, to me, it’s never just business.
It’s always personal.
Chapter Four
Dante
“Something is up with Conor. I just don’t know what the hell it is,” my friend Patrick Mulligan mutters as we walk down Brighton 6th Street in Brighton Beach toward our destination.
I rub the back of my neck, thinking of the flight I have back to Las Vegas tomorrow morning and how I’d really like to get at least an hour of sleep before I have to drag myself out of the hotel to head for the airport.
But, duty calls.
I came out to New York City for a few days at my brother Matteo’s request to do a little investigation. And to be honest, I needed the break. I’ve been out in Vegas for months now as my niece and sister-in-law’s personal bodyguard. Matteo has been focused on all of the threats to our family that have surfaced over the past couple of years, and since I’m paid very well to eliminate them, he asked me to provide my own brand of security for his family.
And I’ve been a good soldier because family comes before everything. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect them.
But I’m getting damn tired of my life out there in the sweltering desert heat.
There’s no action, no suspense, and definitely no sniper rifles in my midst.
Christ, I haven’t even spotted anyone cheating in our casino.
At least then I’d have the chance to smash in some skulls.
But my life has become as stagnant as the thick and heavy air out there.
I miss the thrill of the hunt and with each passing, boring-as-fuck day, I’m losing my edge.
So I was happy to hop a flight out here to stalk my family’s latest threat.
Conor Mulligan.
But he’s not just any enemy.
He’s the worst type — a fucking lunatic with a serious grudge and a taste for bloodlust.
He also happens to be my sister-in-law Heaven’s estranged and seriously disturbed brother.
After being forced to marry my oldest brother, Matteo, Heaven’s relationship with her family pretty much went to shit. Her father is a controlling, sexist asshole, and her brother Conor snagged her spot as underboss of the Mulligan family only because he’s got a dick.
I look up at the nondescript sign next to the door to the restaurant and nightclub. If you look fast, you’d completely miss it.
Tatiana.
This is it.
I did my own investigating when Patrick gave me the name of the place Conor was planning to visit tonight and found out there’s an underground casino in the hidden lower level of the place run by the Russian bratva brigadier, Vigo Kosolov. He oversees an elite group of soldiers and runs his businesses on behalf of Ivan Volkov. Volkov is the pakhan…the boss of this bratva. But casinos aren’t Vigo’s real game. His big businesses are drugs and prostitution, and he uses the girls to mule his product. He sends them to nightclubs all over the tri-state area to distribute them.
Working with the Mulligan family wouldn’t do anything for Vigo.
They have nothing to offer him. They don’t deal in pussy, and they’ve gotten burned by one of the biggest cartels in the area.
They’re the ones who really need the strong backing.
But why keep the meeting with Vigo a secret from everyone, Conor? What the hell are you really up to?
Vigo is a dangerous motherfucker, too. He’ll set fire to your life if you cross him.
Your life and the lives of everyone you love.
And Conor doesn’t have a great track record of playing nice in the sandbox, which means anyone associated with him has their necks on the chopping block.
One wrong move and the machetes will fly.
And because I like my head attached to my body, I agreed to check things out before going to Conor and putting him through a brick wall.
“Tell me again what you heard, Patty,” I mutter as we walk inside of the restaurant. Red floods my vision. The walls, floors, and much of the décor have red tones and gold accents. The lights are dim enough that you can’t exactly make out faces, which is very good for us since we both play roles that require us to fly under the radar.
I am paid very well to take care of “problems.”
And part of that job description is to be invisible.
Unfortunately for us, Patrick is a little more well-known in the city, especially since he looks like the rest of the Mulligan brothers. But he refused to let me go in alone. If Conor is pulling something with the Russians, he wants to see it for himself.
Patrick’s jaw tightens as he takes in the scene. The bar is packed and loud, the restaurant overflowing with patrons.
But we’re not here for food or drink.