Chosen By A Sinner (The Sinners Series)

Done fucking around, Viktor and I touched down in Germany after sunset, hoping the cover of darkness will conceal our arrival.

When I told Mariya about my plan to attack Kastrati, she didn’t take it too well. But she understands. I spent the weekend with her, teaching her how to make Alfredo and watching romance movies. I did everything I could to keep her mind off the planned assault and to show her I love her above all else.

What gutted me was when she clung to me last night, begging me to promise I’ll come back in one piece.

I plan on honoring the promise I made her.

“You okay?” Viktor asks.

We’re sitting in a shitty hotel in some bumfuck town going through the attack one last time.

“Yeah.” I glance up from my Heckler and Koch as I put the last piece back into its place. “Just thinking about last night. Mariya’s been so strong through everything, but she didn’t handle me leaving well.”

“It’s because she loves you. She can take anything thrown at her, just don’t touch the people she loves,” Viktor explains.

I figured as much.

Not much scares Mariya, but the possibility of her losing me paralyzes her. It’s fucking upsetting leaving her at home in such a state.

Letting out a sigh, I say, “Let’s focus on the plan. We can’t fuck this up.”

We walk into the small living space where Marco and my best men are waiting.

“Listen up,” I say. “Viktor’s going to walk us through the plan one last time.”

Everyone settles down, their full attention on the wall where Viktor stuck a map of the area.

“We have fire escape stairs at the side of the building and the staircase in the middle,” Viktor says. “Marco, your group will take the middle staircase, while Luca, me, and the rest of the men will take the fire escape.” He lets out a sigh. “There’s only one entrance, which is shitty. We break down the door and kill everyone. No survivors.”

I point at the photo of Kastrati we managed to get. It’s only a side profile shot of his face, the scar on his neck the only real identifying marker we have of the man. “Whoever brings this fucker alive to me gets a bonus.”

Only I get to kill him. I want to rip his heart out for what his men did to Mariya.

I turn my attention to my most trusted men. “Everyone ready?”

“Yes,” Marco answers on behalf of the group.

“Good. Let’s roll out,” I order.

Dressed in a pair of black cargo pants and a tight-fitting long sleeve shirt, I pull the armored vest on, strapping it in place.

“Hold on,” Viktor says. He pulls his phone out and takes a photo of me.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Chill, it’s for Mariya,” he mutters as he sends the image to her. A couple of seconds later, he grins and shows me her reply.

Holy freaking hotness. You shoot any woman who looks at my man.

“Enough fucking around,” I chuckle. “Let’s move out.”

We arranged cars that fit in with the town so we won’t stand out like a sore thumb. I want to see the looks of surprise on the fuckers faces when we break through the door.

I stick to the speed limit, my eyes scanning every inch of the road ahead. When I pull into the parking area of the apartment building across the street from the one where Kastrati is hiding, I turn off the engine. I climb out of the cheap car and casually glance at the second floor.

Light shines through a small window, and there are no people hanging around outside the room.

“Let’s move,” I say into my earpiece.

Viktor gets out of the car, slams the door shut, then we run across the road and darts down the alleyway next to the apartment building Kastrati is in.

I jump, and grabbing hold of the fire escape, I pull it down. When I’m sure all the men are gathered behind me, I take the stairs up, pulling the two Heckler & Kochs from behind my back. My fingers flex around the engraved handles, the weapons a gift from my father for my twenty-first birthday. I only use them for special occasions.

When we reach the second floor, I wait for Viktor and my men to join me before I creep down the corridor.

‘In place,’ Marco’s voice comes over the earpiece.

“Kill anyone who manages to escape,” I instruct as I near the door. Marco and his men will guard our backs, so we don’t have to worry about a surprise attack while taking care of the job.

I take up position in front of the door, and train the barrel of my gun on the lock.

My heartbeat slows down, and all my focus is on the mission as I fire a shot. I kick the door open and storm inside.

With both my arms raised, I send two bullets flying toward two men sitting at a kitchen table. Playing cards scatter everywhere as the first man falls, a shot to his neck leaving him to choke on his own blood, and the second dropping down dead from the bullet to his head.

“Show off,” Viktor mutters, moving past me. Gunfire erupts between six Albanians and us.

As I head into a bedroom, a man breaks the window with the back of his machine gun and fucking jumps out. Not thinking twice, I dart forward. I only take a second to glance out the window, and seeing the man splash into a pool below, I step onto the windowsill and leap into the air.

The plunge is fast, I suck in a deep breath of air, then hit the water hard.

The moment my feet touch the bottom of the pool, I push my body back to the surface. My arms cut through the water as I swim after the fucker, and when he tries to pull himself up on the edging around the pool, I fire a shot, hitting him in his right shoulder blade.

He falls backward with a cry, then I’m on top of him. Letting go of my weapons, they sink to the bottom while I wrap my left arm around the fuckers neck, dragging him to the shallow end.

I hear music playing somewhere, the water lapping at the sides, and our harsh breaths.

I let the fucker break free from my hold, and as he turns to face me, my fist connects with his face. My fingers wrap around his throat, and I start hitting him with all the rage I’ve kept bottled up from what they did to Mariya.

My fingers dig into his skin, and the urge to crush his windpipe is overwhelming, but not wanting a quick death for the fucker, I ease up a little. I allow him one gasp of air before shoving him beneath the water, keeping him there until I feel his strength start to fade. I yank him back up, allowing him a couple of seconds to sputter and cough.

Viktor stalks toward the pool. “Need help.”

“Yeah. Drag his ass out.”

He grabs hold of the Albanian, hauling him out of the water.

I step out of the pool, and as more of my men arrive, I mutter, “My guns are at the bottom of the pool.”

I hold my hand out to my soldier, and he quickly hands me a Glock before diving into the water to retrieve my weapons.

“Turn the fucker around,” I tell Viktor.

He rolls the man onto his back, looks at his neck, then smiles up at me. “Erand Kastrati in the flesh.”

Finally.