Page 41 of Unforgiving Sinner (Starukhin Bratva)

“On the ground!” I roar. “And show me your hands.”

One by one, hands poke up from behind covers. I quickly count them, making sure that both lefts and rights are present. I’m tired of surprises.

“Come out!” I command. “And if you so much as twitch the wrong way, you will die.”

The remaining Lanzzare members emerge, shaking, and freeze in their tracks when they see me. Fear and hatred burn in their eyes.

“Next time,” I snarl. “No one survives.”

The warehouse is a scene of destruction, with bodies littering the floor and blood on every surface. I snatch a bundle of papers, light it, and fling it to the top of a tower of cardboard boxes as my men relieve the Lanzzare of their weapons. I nod, and they’re allowed to leave. They run quickly, afraid they’ll be shot in the back. But I want them to tell their boss, Emilio Lanzzare, that I am my father’s heir.

“Let’s go,” I say to my men, my voice cold and empty. As we leave the warehouse parking lot, I feel alive. The Lanzzare will retaliate. I’m sure of it. Tonight, their men were cocky and unprepared. Next time, they’ll be ready. But the message has been sent.

That’s all that matters.

And if there are still any men out there who doubt my commitment to the Bratva, who doubt my ability to carry out theviolence so befitting of the Starukhin name, then let them come say it to my face.

So that I might personally teach them how wrong they are.

I was born to do this. I accept it now. I can’t deny the thrill that raced through me when I knew I had won. When I saw my father’s enemies on the ground. He would have praised me.

This was your burden, Matvei. Now it is mine.

“I think they got your message,” Rurik smirks in the car as he tucks his gun back in his holster.

I see my building up ahead like a luminous beacon.

“I don’t expect them to listen, Rurik,” I say. “But I’m prepared to tell them again.”

24

EDEN

A FEW DAYS LATER

The chime goes off,and I watch the elevator doors with anticipation. A blonde in a fancy coral suit steps into the living room.

“Oh, this view.” She rushes toward the window as if she’s about to spread her wings and fly off. “Manhattan is a jewel from these dizzying heights.”

Dizzying? I tilt an eyebrow and stare at our newest inmate. Larissa hurries off the elevator and herds the blonde toward me.

Other than an errant bandage here and there, she betrays no sign that she nearly lost her life in a horrific bombing.

“Eden,” she says, “this is Naomi St. Clair. She owns several boutiques. Perhaps you’ve heard of them?”

They look expectantly at me as if I’d know. Eventually, I shake my head.

“Well, she dresses all the members of our … family.” Larissa draws a tight smile across her features and turns away to lock the elevator.

I can’t help but notice that her hands are shaking slightly.

“Good morning, Eden.” Naomi extends her hand, and we shake. “I’ve heard such wonderful things about you. A pleasure to finally meet.” She hands me her card. “I also offer a personal shopping service, which is why I am here today.

She eyes my borrowed dress and flip-flops and winces as if she will have to earn today’s paycheck. Obviously, no one has told her I’m here against my will. I wonder what they would do if I ran for the elevator like a nut. A giggle slips out, and they both stare at me.

“Yes, I would be excited too.” Naomi smiles. “Marrying Nikolai Starukhin. What good luck you have.”

I take a step back and scowl. But I keep my shitty opinions to myself. I can’t screw this up. I’m leaving here today, and when I can, I’m calling my dad. Maybe I can just ask Naomi to use her phone. Or better yet, find a way to pick up the one Mercy reserved for me.

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