Page 424 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

“Having you there gives us access, Anya. Your work is not in vain. And soon enough, we will have plenty of money and even more power. Ivan Volkov will be eating out of our hands, I can promise you that.”

I roll my eyes. I’ve heard it all before. Uncle Boris has delusions of grandeur. It’s why we’re in this shitty position to begin with, the one where we’re scrounging around for any job that can make us a windfall.

And I question that this is it.

Who the hell knows who his contact is, and who’s to say the contact won’t kill him once he gets what he wants?

Unless my uncle has a different idea about how to deal with the contact…one that involves me killing him first.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to get away tonight. The baby’s christening is tomorrow and I’m not sure?—”

“You’re the au pair, not the full-time nanny. Set hours means you get time off to meet your dear old uncle who flew in for a special dinner and to take a tour of UNLV, where you are so excited to go in the fall.”

I bite down on my lower lip. “Okay, I might be able to get away for a little while.”

“I will text you the details tomorrow once I land.”

“Okay, Uncle,” I say, slipping off my flip flops and stepping into the high-heels Heaven left for me. “Have a safe?—”

Click.

“Flight,” I grumble, stabbing the End button. He really is a huge prick more often than not. I totally understand why so many people want to either kick his ass or just flat-out kill him. And yeah, I feel a tiny bit guilty thinking that since he took us in, brought us to Brooklyn, gave us a roof over our heads, and food to eat.

But he’s not my dad. Not even close.

They were estranged, and the only reason we found him was because Maks had gotten a birthday card from him not too long before the attack. It was the only address we had for him, and thankfully, it led us straight to him with only the clothes on our backs.

He put up with raising two teenagers because he realized very fast what we could do for him and how we could make him money. He didn’t care what kind of danger we’d walk into as long as we walked out with cash, drugs, or stolen goods he could turn around and sell. And then Maks died and I graduated to hired killer.

And now he really is all I have.

Sometimes I wonder if I’d be better off with nobody.

My heart aches as I gaze at myself in the mirror, the tight, white dress clinging to my every curve.

Fresh, bright, white — on the outside, anyway.

I just hope all of the red staining my ledger doesn’t seep into the fabric. I’d hate for the devil inside to tear through and ruin the angelic effect.

Even though it’s a total façade.

I smooth down the front of the dress and can’t help the smile that lifts my lips.

God, this feels so incredibly surreal…

I try to enjoy the moment until my gut knots, my mind trying to process what in the hell plans my uncle has concocted. A strange sensation floods my insides when I think about Aisling. Whatever happens, she can’t be involved.

Hurt.

Or worse.

I feel so oddly protective of her, maybe because of the fact that we’re kind of kindred spirits. What will become of her? She’s young, so however this plays out, it won’t torment her emotionally the way it did me when my parents were killed.

Blood rushes between my ears.

How it plays out…I still have no clue.

He still hasn’t told me a single detail…about anything.

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