Taken By A Sinner (The Sinners Series)

Just as I cautiously walk by a set of sliding doors, I see a group of men making a run for the left boundary wall of the property.

Not wasting a second, I shoot the doors open and break out into a run. “I’ve got eyes on Manno. Left side of the house,” I tell the other men, and then I open fire on the group, dropping two guards before they start returning fire.

Someone takes out three of the men, then Manno fucking trips over his feet, plowing into the lawn. Ricco aims his weapon at me, but I fire two shots, one hitting his hip, the other his right arm.

As Manno struggles to his feet, I let out an enraged chuckle, death cloaking the sound in darkness. “Finally.” I drop the machine gun, and taking hold of my Glock, I press the barrel to his head. “Why are you running, Manno? You’ll have me thinking you’re scared of me,” I taunt him.

With my men guarding my back, I nod toward the house. “Move. Back inside so we can talk.”

Manno and Ricco are disarmed and forcefully pushed back to the house. Once they’re kneeling in the living room, Viktor disappears back up the stairs while the other men of the Priesthood stand and watch what I’m about to do.

“You should’ve fled the continent, Antonio,” Liam chuckles. “Did you really think you could take on the Priesthood?”

“Fuck you,” the old man spits, hatred burning in his eyes.

“Sorry, you’re not my type,” Liam retorts.

Viktor comes back into the living room with a girl firmly in his grip. She puts up one hell of a struggle in his arms, and it gets a violent reaction from Manno.

“Don’t fucking touch her! She has nothing to do with this.”

Unable to control my anger, I kick Manno in the gut. “But you fucking tried to kill my wife and sister?”

Viktor presses the barrel of his Heckler and Koch to the girl’s head which has her stilling in his hold. With his voice filled with amusement, he asks, “What’s your name, little one?”

The girl can’t be much older than eighteen. With a vicious glare, she mutters, “Rosalie.”

Viktor takes a deep breath of her hair. “Hmm. Little Rose. You smell mouthwatering.”

“Fuck you,” she growls at Viktor, trying to headbutt him, but it only earns her a burst of laughter from him.

“I need plastic bags,” I say to no one in particular.

“On it, boss,” one of my soldiers replies, running in the direction of the kitchen.

Tucking my Glock in the back of my pants, I take the K-Bar from the holster around my thigh.

Knowing it will hurt Manno, I slowly stalk closer to Ricco. Manno makes a mistake when he allows me to see the panic in his eyes.

“I’m going to assume Ricco is not only your nephew but your right-hand man, right?” I don’t expect an answer.

“This is between you and me,” Manno tries to bargain.

I shake my head as I stop behind Ricco, and grabbing hold of his jaw, I force his head back, so he looks up at me. My eyes lock with his, then I press the blade slowly to his jugular, and as slow as I fucking can, I slice him wide open.

“Nooo,” Rosalie screams, fighting like a wildcat to get free from Viktor.

“Fuck you!” Manno starts shouting, spittle flying from his mouth. Gabriel kicks Manno in the back, and as the old man falls flat on his face, he steps on him to keep him in place. Still, Manno rages, “Fuck you. I’m going to fucking kill you.”

With my hold on Ricco’s jaw, I watch with sadistic satisfaction as he gurgles, his blood spilling from him like a fountain of death.

Dropping the corpse of Manno’s nephew to the now bloodstained carpet, I indicate for Gabriel to let Manno up.

Rosalie slumps against Viktor, her face grief-stricken just like my Tess’ was. Just like Athina’s was.

My eyebrow darts up when Viktor licks a tear from the girl’s cheek, then he smiles at Manno. “I’m going to enjoy her.”

“Please,” Manno begs for the first time. “She’s a child, only seventeen.”

Viktor starts backtracking to the gaping hole that used to be the front door. “I can wait until she’s eighteen. Watch her blossom like the little rose she is before making her my whore.”

“Nonno,” Rosalie shrieks, straining against Viktor.

“Please,” Manno cries. A smile spreads over my face as I watch his fear and panic multiply. “She’s just a fucking child!”

“Nonno!” I hear Rosalie scream before Viktor forces her out of the house, actually doing her a favor, so she doesn’t have to witness me torturing her grandfather.

Finally, my soldier returns with the plastic bags. “Sit his ass down on a chair,” I order. I wait for my men to force a cursing Manno into one of the chairs they brought from the dining room.

The head of the Sicilian mafia locks eyes with me. “You can kill me but let my granddaughter go.”

“You don’t get to make demands,” I remind him unnecessarily. I flick the K-Bar between my fingers as I step closer to my enemy. “You only get to bleed.”

Grabbing hold of his left arm, I pin it in place and swipe the blade over the crook of his elbow. Finally, getting to see his blood seep from him, a broad smile spreads over my face. “Look, you bleed just like the soldiers I killed. Not a God after all.”

“Just fucking do it,” Manno spits, his breaths harsh over his lips. “Get it over with.”

“That would ruin the fun.” Pressing the blade against his chest, I twist and fucking twist, slowly digging a hole through his skin, and it earns me a painful grunt from him.

“I read about Lingchi, a special form of torture the Asians used in the late eighteen hundreds and always wanted to try it out,” I say.

“Death by a thousand cuts, “Alexei murmurs, actually looking impressed with my choice of torture. “But I’ve heard most die after a dozen cuts.”

“Let’s see how long you can hold out,” I chuckle at Manno as I take hold of his ear.

He yanks his head away, and without having to ask, one of my soldiers grabs hold of him, keeping him firmly in place as I slowly cut it off.

This time the grunts are filled with agony.

Already growing bored, Luca checks his wristwatch. “We need to wrap this up in thirty minutes and get out of here.”

I nod at him. “That’s enough time.”

Even though I know Viktor comes from a line of men who don’t rape women, I still use it as a threat to torture Manno. “Viktor’s going to enjoy your granddaughter. I’ve heard he likes it rough.”

Just as I hoped for, the threat hits Manno hard. “Please. I’ll give you anything. Just let Rosalie go.”

“He’ll probably brand her,” I add as I cut a long streak over Manno’s chest, his shirt falling open. “And feast on her innocence. She’s a virgin, right?”

“Please,” Manno sobs. He gives me a pleading look as I stop in front of him. I pick up one of the bags, and the old fuck puts up a fight, but I get it wrapped over his head.

Knowing it’s only a matter of minutes before he suffocates, I say, “You should’ve stayed out of my territory.” I press the blade’s tip to the stretch of skin over his heart. “You shouldn’t have killed my father and stepmother, and you sure as fuck shouldn’t have attacked my wife and sister.”

I watch as he swallows his pride, his words muffled from the plastic covering his face. “I see that now. I’m… sorry. Just let… Rosalie go.”

Gabriel tightens the bag, and it gives me a clear view of Manno’s terrified face, his mouth sucking at the plastic for air.

Painstakingly slowly, I force the blade’s tip through his skin. “There’s no mercy,” I grind the words out through a clenched jaw. Pulling back, I slam the knife deep into his chest and watch as the light flickers out in his eyes.

“For my father,” I whisper, taking a deep breath as death reduces my enemy to nothing more than a corpse.