Chosen By A Sinner (Sinners 4)

Viktor shoves the memory card into his laptop and accesses the dashcam footage. He fast-forwards to earlier today, and I get glimpses of the road. Suddenly everything’s a blur as the SUV is hit, flipping three times before coming to a skidding stop, giving us a view of a truck and two sedans.

“Fucking Albanians,” I mutter as the men climb out of their vehicles. Intense rage rips through me with the force of a hurricane.

Uncle Dimitri opens his laptop and starts to type, saying, “The house on that corner has a security camera by the gate.”

Viktor glances at his father’s laptop, reaches across, and opens an entirely different screen. “This way is faster. You’re getting old.”

“Fuck off,” his father mutters as they access the camera, which gives us a better view of the street.

Horror washes over me as I see Mariya crawl out of the wreckage. She struggles to stand up.

“Broken ribs,” Uncle Alexei groans. “My baby’s struggling to breathe.”

Lifting my arm, I grab a fistful of my hair as I watch my wife kick off her shoes and assume a fighting stance.

“Jesus Christ,” I whisper when she lunges for the man nearest to her, taking him down in one swift move.

“That’s my girl. Fight,” Uncle Alexei cheers for her, his breaths coming faster. “I want sound!” he shouts when she says something.

Viktor grabs the laptop from his father and rewinds, then types something in code on a different screen before pressing play again.

‘Do you know who my father and husband are? Do you have any fucking idea who my brother is?’ She sucks in a painful breath, then her tone is deadly calm as she says, ‘You’re dead.’

‘Koha për të vdekur, kurvë,’ one of the Albanians says.

“Time to die, whore,” Viktor mutters the translation to us.

The realization that this happened after she scratched the message on the SUV rips my heart clean from my chest.

I can’t watch her die.

Fuck no.

I take a step back, but my eyes remain glued to the screen as I watch all the men attack the woman I can’t live without.

“I…” My breaths speed up as I watch her fight with everything she has. My emotions spiral out of control, and my throat closes up.

She fights off four men in her already injured state before one punches her. Both my hands fly into my hair, and I swear I can feel the pain she’s in as she falls to the road.

Still, my woman struggles back to her feet, she stumbles, then drops to her knees.

‘I tried, Daddy,’ she wheezes.

I want to rip the air from my lungs and give it to her.

Mariya slumps to her side, losing consciousness, and as a fucker drags her over his shoulder, everything stills inside me.

As I watch them load her into one of the sedans and drive off, anger replaces the worry, the fear, the shock.

Unadulterated rage sweeps through me as I lower my arms and inhale deeply.

I’m coming for you, my little fighter. Just hold on.

“Time to fucking hunt,” Uncle Alexei growls, death and brimstone brimming in his voice.

Chapter 23

Mariya

The fuckers bandage the gunshot wound to my leg so I won’t bleed out on them while they torture me.

Just fucking great.

No matter how I brace myself, I’m not ready to lose any body parts.

My mind is flooded with panic and pain, making it hard to try and come up with an escape plan.

You just need to find a way to buy time until your family comes for you. They’ll check the tracking device and see where you are.

The only thing I have going for me is that they once again didn’t restrain me. They probably think I can’t do anything, because of the wound to my left leg.

The fucker in charge gestures to two other men who joined us while I was unconscious, and they come to haul me to my feet. My body screams with agony, but all I can do is groan.

I’m dragged to a chair and shoved into it, then a wooden table is pushed in front of me. I almost slump over it, but manage to keep myself sitting in the chair.

A drilling sound makes every inch of my skin go numb with pins and needles.

My eyes lock on the fucker in charge as he grins at me, holding a cordless drill in his hand.

I’m not going to walk out of here alive.

I don’t get time to process the devastating thought as my arms are grabbed by the two men. They force my hands onto the tabletop, but I fight with the meager strength I’ve managed to regain.

No matter how I struggle against them, I can’t do shit as the fucker grabs my wrist and digs the drillbit into the back of my hand.

“No,” I scream, my eyes wide, my blood on fire in my veins.