Page 376 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

A shiver…ironically…rushes through me at his words and I stand here with my bags at my feet, staring at the Ferrari as it peels out of the driveway and disappears onto the Strip.

Holy crap, I’m in Hades.

And that’s a gross understatement.

CHAPTER8

DANTE

Ipull my Ferrari into the self-parking lot of a restaurant down the block from the nightclub, Fire and Ice. It’s off the beaten path, so there isn’t a whole lot of foot traffic around the place. It’s also overgrown with weeds, and there’s a chain link fence around the dilapidated building.

All good for me.

I get out of the car, the hot air damn near smothering me as I walk in the direction of the club. I’ve been down here before, so I know exactly how to navigate the area as a ghost.

It’s pretty deserted on this side of the Strip. None of the big money is down here. It’s all at the other end.

Also good for me.

Nobody gives a shit about the places around here. They only exist for derelicts and criminals.

Hell, the cops barely come down here.

I skirt around some unwieldy bushes and take a quick look around before hopping the fence. I don’t love doing hits during the day, but this is the only way to stop the scumbag from snatching any more innocent young girls.

He’s expecting to auction them off tonight, and the only way to prevent the sales from taking place is to pop a cap in his brain.

Five-million dollars.

That’s what I was paid to terminate him.

Hell, I’d do it for nothing to rid the world of this piece of shit.

The money was already wired to my account by the requestor who goes by an alias.

We all do.

The requestor knows I’m not on the job right now, so he upped my price to sweeten the deal for me.

But I only had to see the name of the target and I was all in.

Miguel Rivas is an infamous sex trafficker who operates between Los Angeles and Las Vegas. He imports kidnapped women on vacation in Mexico and harbors them in LA until the auctions are scheduled here in Vegas. He’s got a lot of guys on his payroll, but they’d scatter like cockroaches if the big fish suddenly gets his head cut off.

And that’s exactly what I plan to do to him.

I pull open the back door slowly so it doesn’t make a sound. I step inside, taking in the darkness and the damp, dank air. This club is a front, and the auctions are all held in the lower level, leaving the main floor pretty much empty, save for a few tables and chairs.

I wrinkle my nose. Smells like fucking sewage.

From what I know, Miguel is only in town for a few days to handle the sales. He’ll be on his way back to LA as soon as the cash from the sales hits his offshore accounts.

Or, so he thinks.

I pull out my gun from the waistband of my pants and hold it in my outstretched hand.

Tingles shoot out to the tips of my fingers, and I swear I get a cock jolt from the thought of pulling the trigger.

It really has been way too long…

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