Savage Beast: A Dark Mafia Enemies to Lovers Romance (Sinfully Savage)

by Kristen Luciani

  Her head falls back against the wall, her eyes the brightest blue as they glitter with deep-seated desire. She squeezes my cock, her juices flowing over me. Her body trembles, her pussy quivering as I drive into her with long, hard strokes. “Oh…my…God,” she moans. “So…good!”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, sparks igniting into flames that rage through me as the orgasm explodes, sizzling every cell in my body. My body spasms against her as the euphoric sensations consume me like a tidal wave.

  We collapse against each other, breathless, sated, and smiling.

  I tangle my fingers in her long hair, dropping my head into her sweet-smelling neck. “I fucking love you,” I rasp.

  “I fucking love you, too,” she whispers, her tongue poking out to tickle the area behind my ear.

  I pull away slightly, staring into her eyes. “I mean it, Chell. You’re it for me. Forever. I wanna marry you.”

  She cocks her head to the side. “So…are you…proposing?”

  “Maybe,” I say.

  “You didn’t ask me a question,” she whispers.

  “Well, I wasn’t exactly planning this. I mean, I was, but not here.”

  “In Vegas?”

  “In a bathroom,” I say with a chuckle. “I was gonna do it tonight, with the ring and everything. But I got caught up. I didn’t want to wait. I love you, and I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

  Bright pink spots color her cheeks. “Yes,” she says, tears glistening in her eyes. “Of course I will. But…”

  I lift an eyebrow. “Yeah…”

  “Can we wait to tell everyone? I’d really like to be able to paint a different picture for your family when they ask, other than the one where you nail me against a wall in a hospital bathroom because you just couldn’t wait.”

  I laugh, hugging her tight. “You’ve got it. I’ll give you a different picture. It’s gonna be damn colorful, too, so get ready.”

  “I’m always ready,” she says with a sly smile on her flushed face. “For anything with you.”

  Part Two: Dante

  I trudge down the hallway with my hands shoved deep into the pockets of my jeans, my mind spinning with explicit details about my latest target.

  My client expected me to land in Dubai last night, and judging by the scathing tone in his voice when he called, he sure as hell isn’t happy about my little detour.

  But fuck him.

  I’m an uncle now, for Christ’s sake.

  And an assassin.

  In that order.

  Let the motherfucker live a day longer so I can meet our girl.

  In my periphery, I see the nurses pointing and whispering softly as I pass. I flash them my signature smirk and one of them turns beet red when she catches my eye. “The VIP maternity wing?” I ask.

  She clears her throat and points in the direction I’m walking. “Right through those doors.”

  I wink at her. “Thanks. Big day.”

  “Congratulations!” they all say with bright smiles.

  “Come back later and we can celebrate,” one of them quips when she thinks I’m just out of earshot. The rest of them giggle, and I swallow my own chuckle as I push open the doors. I walk right up to Matteo where he’s standing with Sergio and give him a big hug. “Congratulations, Matty.”

  He claps me on the back. “Thanks, bro. It’s really good to see you.” His expression sobers slightly and my eyebrows furrow.

  “Something wrong? I thought you’d be on top of the stratosphere today.” I chuckle. “You know, because the Stratosphere…is right out there…” I say, nodding toward the window where the hotel stands tall and proud across the street.

  “Yeah, well, I am, but…” He rubs the back of his head and looks past me down the hall. “I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  Matteo gives Sergio a look and he backs away, his hands held up. “Private shit. Got it. I’m just gonna go back inside and fight Jae to hold the baby again.”

  “Good luck with that,” Jaelyn calls from inside the room.

  Once Sergio disappears, Matteo turns back to me. “I need you to be here, Dante.”

  “I am here,” I say. “See? Trust me, I ain’t no mirage.” Then I let out another laugh. “Because, you know…”

  “The Mirage. Yeah, I get it.” He rolls his eyes. “Jesus, when did you become such a comedian?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the uncle thing. I’m like a new man or something. You know, the fun uncle…the funcle.”

  “Or maybe it’s the job,” Matteo says.

  “Maybe. Contract killers don’t get a lot of on-the-job laughs, so we look for ’em when we’re off the clock.”

  “I’m sure.” His eyebrows knit together and a chill shuttles down my spine. He’s being more evasive than usual, and his expression isn’t the usual stoic one he sports.

  He’s nervous.

  Matteo never gets nervous.

  That makes me more than a little curious to hear the reason.

  “What’s happening, Matty?” I ask in a low voice. “What the hell do I need to know?”

  His blue eyes darken as he leans in closer, his voice a choked whisper. “It’s what you already do know that’s the problem.”

  Enjoy a sneak peek of Savage Sinner —>

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  Sneak Peek of Savage Sinner

  Prologue: Anya

  I tug hard on the brass handle, pulling open the heavy steel door that leads into the underbelly of Tatiana, Vigo Kosolov’s premier nightclub and restaurant here in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn. It’s late afternoon, so the parking lot is empty save for two cars.

  Vigo’s Mercedes-Maybach S 560 and my Uncle Boris’ Honda Accord.

  I swallow hard, the growing lump in 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 that 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.

  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 Volkvov, 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 off this little partnership 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 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, the 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!”

  Vigo turns to me. “And you. You’re his muscle. A fucking bitch! He needs you because he can’t deliver! He uses you, Anya!”

  “You drove him into the ground!” I scream. “You came in here and took everything that belonged to him!”

  “If he was a real contender, he’d have stomped me into the fucking dirt when I showed up on the scene. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. And he never will because I am going to be king!” Vigo glowers at my uncle. “If my nephew had been slaughtered like that, I’d have made damn sure anyone who got in my way of revenge was next.”

  This time, I make it on top of him and spit in his eye before his guys pull me off.

  He rakes his beady eyes over me and licks his chapped lips. “Play your cards right and you’ll be my queen.”

  I throw up in my mouth before lunging for him a final time.

  But Vigo just laughs as his guys drag me back by my long blonde hair. “Be very careful, Anya, or I’ll sell your tight pussy to the highest bidder.”

  Chapter One: Anya, Two Weeks Later

  “Enough of the Little Miss Innocent bullshit, sweetheart. This dick ain’t gonna suck itself.”

  I force a smile, even though I’m practically choking on bile at this point.

  Vigo Kosolov reaches out and grabs one of my boobs, which is dangerously close to the neckline of my low cut dress. I level him with a stare as he fondles it with the grasp of a man who never bothered to learn how to properly pleasure a woman.

  Well, fuck him.

  Looks like I’m about to do the entire female population a favor.

  But there’s no way on this fucking planet that I’m serving him.

  Vigo is absolutely one of the most vile men I’ve ever encountered. He sticks his dick into anything with legs and preferably below the age of twenty. He takes advantage of young girls, addicts them to drugs, and then pimps them out for cash…cash he can pump into his underground casino. The illicit business he’s built in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn has made him wads of cash.

  It's why the big boss, Ivan Volkov, keeps him in power.

  But it’s also why I’m about to knock him off this throne.

  I grit my teeth, the tense conversation I had with my uncle a couple of weeks ago looping through my mind. We’d just gotten home from that standoff with Vigo and all of the memories of that horrific night had bubbled to the surface, threatening to spew out at any given second.

  The night my brother died.

  The night he was murdered.

  “Vigo is right,” Uncle Boris mutters darkly. “I let Maks walk into a trap. I should have been there with him that night. I could have protected him.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about the Villanis? How could you keep that from me?”

  He rubs a hand over his shiny bald head. “Things got out of control. The Villanis needed to pay for their part in your brother’s murder. I went there for revenge, to make them suffer the way we had, but we were outnumbered. I didn’t finish the job and they threatened me with a war if I didn’t leave.”

  “You should have set fire to their territory before you left!” I scream, slamming my hand onto a table. “How could you just walk away?”

  “Because I knew it was only a matter of time before we’d get our chance to make them feel our pain. I waited months to come up with a plan.” The corners of his lips curl upward. “And now that I have one, they will be assaulted by that pain, trust me.”

  “Are you going to tell me about your grand plan?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “Not yet. I need to work out a few last details. But before we move forward, you’re going to clear a path for us using your very special talents.”

  I rub my hands together, a smile spreading across my face. “But what will Ivan Volkov say?”

  “Fuck him,” Uncle Boris grunts. “If he wants his cut of what I’m gonna offer, he’ll have no choice but to deal with it. It’s time for me to take over as Ivan’s fucking golden boy.”

  I tuck a strand of dark brown hair behind my ear, gripping Vigo’s legs and pushing them open in a way that has him frothing at the mouth. He has no clue who I am under the wig, the makeup, and the clothes.

  He will soon enough.

  Before the light goes out in his eyes, I want him to know who’s responsible.

  I inch closer to his stubby cock which is barely hard since he’s high as a kite on drugs…drugs that don’t belong to him.

  Drugs he stole.

  Drugs he’s been stealing for a while.

  The bastard is selling them, too, and skimming the profits. And his boss, Ivan Volkov, has no idea he’s being robbed blind.

  Vigo knows if Uncle Boris called him out, Volkov would shut him down.

  He’s lost all respect for my uncle since Vigo took over the territory.

  That stops tonight.

  I’m here to make sure Vigo gets what’s coming to him, that the slimy thieving bastard is exterminated.

  Permanently.

  And I’m perfectly positioned to slaughter.

  There are a lot of other people who’d love to be in my exact position right now.

  I run my fingernails down the front of his beefy chest, trying not to gag as he thrusts his hips toward me. A quick glance confirms that my lips will not come anywher
e near that shriveled up old ass dick.

  My knife, on the other hand, will definitely make an impact.

  Talk about him getting the biggest possible bang for his buck.

  Ha! Pun so intended.

  I posed as a hooker to get in here since I can’t take a chance that someone will recognize my face. This hits way too close to home and if I’m spotted, it will bring hellfire to my doorstep.

  I’ve already lost too much.

  I won’t risk my uncle’s life.

  And I also can’t take a chance of being outed.

  That reminds me…I need to make sure I get paid for my services.

  There won’t be anyone to field Vigo’s complaints, so I guess the apropos phrase is ‘buyer beware.’

  “Suck it, bitch. I don’t got all night to play cat and mouse with you.”

  “Oh yeah?” I say in a sultry voice, sliding closer. “What else do you have to do tonight? I thought for sure you’d only be doing me.”

  I knew just where to go and how to dress to make sure he picked me out of the crowd of girls just waiting for a chance to get fingered by the legendary Russian gangster.

  They don’t realize I’m about to do them a huge favor.

  “You’re a hot piece of ass, but I got business to take care of,” he grunts, grabbing me by the back of my head and forcing my face between his thighs.

  I yelp at the sudden force and a flutter of panic explodes in my belly when I realize my wig has slipped from its pinned position and is now hanging off the side of my head.

  Dammit.

  I wasn’t planning to do this just yet, but…oh well.

  Plans change.

  More specifically, plans go up in fucking smoke with the snap of a finger, just like everything else that’s good and perfect.

  “Anya,” he growls, clutching the arm rests and pushing his body to an upright position. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here? Did your pathetic uncle send you here?” He reaches out and grabs me by the throat. “Or are you just hard up for cash, because nobody wants to work with either of you?” He pulls me closer, hissing right into my face. “You know your uncle is a fucking has-been. It’s just a matter of time before someone slits his throat and tosses his ancient body into the New York Harbor. If you need money, I can take care of you. I got a lot of clients who’d pay plenty for a taste of that pussy if you wanna work for me. It's the only way for you to get anywhere in this life,” he grunts, grabbing my boob and squeezing it hard.