CHOSEN BY A SINNER (Completed)

Chapter 39

Kastrati has zero strength to get up as his blood seeps into the grass and sand beneath his body.

"I don't know... I don't know," he weeps.

No one fucking knows anything about Tinaj.

"How did you come to the agreement that whoever takes me down gets Europe?"

"I met him... at St. Monarch's... during... training."

My eyes flick to Viktor. "Make the call to Uncle Carson."

"When did you attend training?" I ask.

"Last... year," he gasps. His eyes are fixed on me, his last breath creeping closer. "He was the... best..."

Aww fuck.

I watch as the life drains from the fucker before he can complete his sentence.

Viktor kicks at the corpse of the Albanian. "Your fucking timing sucks!" Then he says, "Hi, Uncle Carson. Missed me?"

I stare at the dead man as I try to remember the results of last year's auction.

Every year the best men and women are trained as custodians and assassins, and the highest bidder gets to hire their services. It's been an ongoing tradition for close to a hundred years. Uncle Alexei bought St. Monarch's from Madame Keller, the previous owner, and Uncle Carson, his younger brother, has been running it in his stead.

It's where I received my training in arms, smuggling, and hand-to-hand combat before I took over from my father as the head of the Italian mafia.

"Who was the best last year?" I hear Viktor ask, then he frowns, his eyes locking with mine. "Bojan Pavlović? Who is he?"

Viktor puts his phone on speaker, so I can hear as Uncle Carson says, "Pavlović is Serbian. He joined a Hungarian syndicate in his late teens, grew bored of living hand to mouth, and enrolled here. He trained as a custodian and showed great potential. He's intelligent, so don't underestimate him. Although there was a bid for twenty million on him, he declined and walked away, which surprised me. I haven't heard from him again."

"Thanks, Uncle Carson," Viktor says. "We'll see you at Mariya and Luca's wedding, right?"

"Yeah. I'm looking forward to it."

The call ends, and Viktor lifts an eyebrow at me. "At least now we know who we're dealing with."

"Yes." I actually feel relieved and chuckle, "Got to hand it to the man, it was a clever move."

"What was a clever move?" Viktor asks, giving me a confused look.

"Pavlović's been laying low, letting Kastrati keep me busy and tire me out. He probably roped the fucker in to distract me."

"Why the fuck do you look happy about this?" Viktor asks.

"If Pavlović is as good as Uncle Carson says, then he's a worthy opponent and not just some snot-nose kid in over his head." I pat Viktor on the shoulder. "I'm taking it as a compliment."

I toss the drill into the car, then signal for Marco to set the vehicle and body on fire.

As Viktor and I walk to the SUV that will take us to the airport where my private jet is waiting, I say, "At least you have the right name to search for now."

"I'm actually curious about what I'll find out."

"You know what they say about curiosity," I chuckle.

"Fuck, now I'm thinking of pussy."

I let out a bark of laughter. "Not surprised."

We climb into the SUV, Viktor sliding behind the steering wheel, and as he drives us to the airfield, I pull out my phone and dial Lorenzo's number.

"You know it's two am in the morning," my second in charge mutters.

"This is the only time I have to check in with you. I'm in Germany. Do you need me for anything while on your side of the world?"

"No, Diego and I've got everything covered," he mumbles.

"Send me the sales figures for the last quarter," I instruct.

"You don't trust us?"

I let out a chuckle, joking, "Just want to make sure the two of you aren't fucking around while I'm not there."

"I'm offended."

Deciding to let the man continue sleeping, I say, "I'll be home after the wedding."

"Can't wait," he grumbles. "I need a vacation."

"We'll talk about it when I'm in Italy."

I end the call, and feeling better after checking in with Lorenzo, my thoughts turn to Pavlović.

The man played his cards right. We were chasing the decoy while he probably watched and learned a fuck-ton about me.

Cudos, Pavlović. Cudos.

But now it's time to end this cat and mouse game.