Chosen By A Sinner (Sinners 4)

“I like the black plates on rose gold tablecloths,” I mention to Mom.

“Me too. The colors stand out more.”

Dad comes back to the living room, and softly rubs his hand over the cast on my left leg before he goes to stand in front of the window, his sharp gaze scouring all the buildings across the road.

“Luca already had all the buildings checked,” I mention.

“Hmm…”

“And there’s a sniper posted on our building’s roof.”

“Hmm…”

“Daddy, I’m safe here.”

“I know.”

Which means he checked up on everything himself.

“Ooh,” Mom coos, drawing my attention back to the phone. “I love the black roses and rose gold baby’s breath.”

“That’s so pretty,” I agree. “Take a screenshot.”

Enjoying my parents' company, my dream wedding starts to take form.

I can’t wait for our wedding day because it means I’ll have the cast off and my mobility back.

And Dad will walk me down the aisle.

Chapter 34

Luca

After hearing Uncle Alexei’s with Mariya, I manage to relax a little because nothing will get past him.

Uncle Alexei and Uncle Demitri will watch over Mariya until I’ve taken care of the threat that’s only fifteen minutes away from us.

In the past two weeks, we found out the men who attacked Mariya were sent by Erand Kastrati – the older and, as it would seem, dumber one of the two fuckers. After two failed attempts in LA, the idiot has sent more men to die.

They’re currently sitting ducks in a house near downtown Pasadena.

We’re busy checking our weapons and pulling on armored vests. While the other men joke about who’ll kill the most people, my thoughts turn to other new developments.

Word has spread like wildfire through underground channels that Mariya is just as dangerous as her parents. She’s quickly gaining respect in the criminal world.

Before the hit, she was only seen as the spoiled daughter of Alexei Koslov, but now she’s made a name for herself.

I hope to God it means no one will try to attack her again.

I’ve also had Viktor spread the news that she’s married to me. I want every eligible fucker out there to know Mariya’s my wife.

“Ready?” Viktor asks. He has two stun grenades strapped to his waist, a submachine gun in his right hand, and his favorite Glock in his left.

“Leave one of the men alive this time,” I remind him.

“Yeah-yeah.”

I glance at Nikolas, Liam, and Gabriel, who are ready to head out. Between the three of them, there’s an army guarding their wives.

“Check earpieces,” I instruct. When everyone nods, I shove my Heckler & Koch behind my back and pick up the submachine gun and Baretta. “Let’s kill some fucking cockroaches.”

We leave our office building, and forming a convoy, we travel the short distance to Pasadena.

We don’t bother taking the stealthy approach as we stop with screeching tires in front of a typical suburban house. Jumping out of the G-Wagon, I know I don’t have to check who’s behind me as I run for the front door, knowing the other men have my back.

Just as I train the barrel of my gun on the front door, I notice Viktor darting around the side of the house for the back entrance in case a fucker tries to escape.

I pull the trigger, blowing the lock off. The wood shudders and squeaks as it swings open. With the submachine gun’s strap hanging across my chest, I lift both my arms and hold the Baretta steady in front of me as I stealthily enter the house.

Gunfire erupts from somewhere in the back, then Viktor’s voice comes through the earpiece. ‘I’m in. Two down.’

“Don’t kill them all,” I remind him again.

“Yes, sir,” he chuckles.

A man partially exposes himself by a doorway, only the right side of his body visible. I fire two shots, one to his hip and the other to his shoulder. He staggers back against the doorjamb then slides down to his ass.

As he reaches for his gun with his left hand, I fire another shot. While he cries from the pain of the bullet tearing through his hand, I kick his weapon away.

Nikolas, Liam, and Gabriel move past me to search the rest of the house while I crouch in front of the fucker.

“You’re losing a lot of blood,” I mutter.

He rests his head against the doorjamb and tries to look impassive, his features tight with pain.

“Where’s Kastrati?”

“Don’t know,” he mutters.

I press the barrel of my gun to his forehead. “Where’s Kastrati?”

The fucker locks eyes with me. “Fuck off.”

I pull the trigger, and as his chin drops to his chest, I rise to my feet and resume my search for the next Albanian fucker who’ll hopefully talk.

Viktor comes through a doorway, takes one look at the dead body, and shakes his head at me. “And I’m not allowed to kill. So fucking unfair.”

I let out a chuckle, and when I walk past him, Viktor takes position behind me. With him matching my every step, we move as one.