Wicked Mafia Prince: A dark mafia romance (Dangerous Royals Book 2) by Annika Martin
Authors: Annika Martin
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them, meaning violence.
Mother Olga grabbed my arm. “Tanya!” This was the name they called me.
Hers was an old woman’s grip, but there was power in that grip, and love and goodness and faith. I forced myself to still, heart pounding so fast, I imagined the whole countryside could hear it. It was with an iron will that I stilled myself and bowed my head. “Please excuse me,” I whispered in Russian.
Even then, I strained not to fly at them, right there in my novice’s robe and head scarf, sure that I could make them sorry, elbow to throat, gun butt to nose, foot to jaw, all in one flowing sequence.
Oh, it would have been so easy. Bowing my head and saying words of peace… I could have crushed a mountain with the effort it took to bow my head and say those words.
When they left, the abbess lifted my chin with her bony fingers. “I am so proud of you, Tanya.” I wept with the frustration of it.
After being a novice for a year and a half, they said I was ready to turn in my head scarf for the nun’s veil and a new name. Except then I caught a man who had snuck into the pen at dawn, about to kill my favorite goat. I broke both his arms and his jaw. We had to drive him to a hospital a day away.
Thus I had to begin my period of being a novice over again.
It takes such a long time to learn the art of forgiveness. Mother Olga said that my love of fighting and lack of forgiveness was a lion at the gates of my heart’s desire to be a nun. She said that Jesus loves me all the better for it.
Then I was taken.
I was napping on a hillock. I woke up with boots pressed down on both my arms, like boulders on my arms, and a sweet cloth being held over my mouth.
When I awoke again I was locked in a dark freighter container with two dozen other women, out at sea for some weeks. The virgins among us were brought here to this place with cameras and many little rooms. They tested the other women for virginity, but they didn’t test me. It’s strange to me that they didn’t test me. There is no reason to assume a novice nun is a virgin.
I still have my head scarf and novice’s robe in this place. Still my prayer rope.
I hate cameras or surveillance of any kind—a feeling from my former life that I don’t understand. Nevertheless, I pray faced away, whispering the Jesus prayer.
One of the guards asked me whether I would like a cross for the wall. I told him I would prefer an icon, and he was able to get one similar to the one I found on the steppes—a little more modern, but Jesus wears the same colors and holds his hand in the same beautiful gesture. This icon serves as a window to heaven just the same as one covered with gold or lit with a thousand suns.
I don’t think he got it for me out of kindness; I believe my being a nun makes me desirable to bidders with evil intentions.
Still I am grateful.
I pray for salvation from my dark past, and for a peaceful and righteous way to lead these captive sisters of mine to safety.
Chapter Six
Viktor
A leksio has me help him with the money-laundering surveillance and the plans for the heist. He thinks I need something to focus on other than Valhalla. Maybe he’s right.
Still I watch Tanechka and track the feeds. I sleep perhaps a little more, but I have to watch her. Sometimes Yuri helps, sometimes Mischa. These brothers of mine understand.
When two weeks are up, I win the virginity auction on the street urchin named Nikki for a mere $2,678, which means it’s time for us to focus there.
The men who run the brothel told me what to expect: that I’ll be put in the back of a van and blindfolded for the trip, which will last two hours. I’ll be checked for transmitting devices, weapons, and anything else suspicious. I’ll have a maximum of two unobserved hours with this Nikki, during which time I may do anything aside from striking, choking, maiming, or killing her.
I put in my request for her to be tied and gagged, and I meet the Valhalla van at the bus station
Mother Olga grabbed my arm. “Tanya!” This was the name they called me.
Hers was an old woman’s grip, but there was power in that grip, and love and goodness and faith. I forced myself to still, heart pounding so fast, I imagined the whole countryside could hear it. It was with an iron will that I stilled myself and bowed my head. “Please excuse me,” I whispered in Russian.
Even then, I strained not to fly at them, right there in my novice’s robe and head scarf, sure that I could make them sorry, elbow to throat, gun butt to nose, foot to jaw, all in one flowing sequence.
Oh, it would have been so easy. Bowing my head and saying words of peace… I could have crushed a mountain with the effort it took to bow my head and say those words.
When they left, the abbess lifted my chin with her bony fingers. “I am so proud of you, Tanya.” I wept with the frustration of it.
After being a novice for a year and a half, they said I was ready to turn in my head scarf for the nun’s veil and a new name. Except then I caught a man who had snuck into the pen at dawn, about to kill my favorite goat. I broke both his arms and his jaw. We had to drive him to a hospital a day away.
Thus I had to begin my period of being a novice over again.
It takes such a long time to learn the art of forgiveness. Mother Olga said that my love of fighting and lack of forgiveness was a lion at the gates of my heart’s desire to be a nun. She said that Jesus loves me all the better for it.
Then I was taken.
I was napping on a hillock. I woke up with boots pressed down on both my arms, like boulders on my arms, and a sweet cloth being held over my mouth.
When I awoke again I was locked in a dark freighter container with two dozen other women, out at sea for some weeks. The virgins among us were brought here to this place with cameras and many little rooms. They tested the other women for virginity, but they didn’t test me. It’s strange to me that they didn’t test me. There is no reason to assume a novice nun is a virgin.
I still have my head scarf and novice’s robe in this place. Still my prayer rope.
I hate cameras or surveillance of any kind—a feeling from my former life that I don’t understand. Nevertheless, I pray faced away, whispering the Jesus prayer.
One of the guards asked me whether I would like a cross for the wall. I told him I would prefer an icon, and he was able to get one similar to the one I found on the steppes—a little more modern, but Jesus wears the same colors and holds his hand in the same beautiful gesture. This icon serves as a window to heaven just the same as one covered with gold or lit with a thousand suns.
I don’t think he got it for me out of kindness; I believe my being a nun makes me desirable to bidders with evil intentions.
Still I am grateful.
I pray for salvation from my dark past, and for a peaceful and righteous way to lead these captive sisters of mine to safety.
Chapter Six
Viktor
A leksio has me help him with the money-laundering surveillance and the plans for the heist. He thinks I need something to focus on other than Valhalla. Maybe he’s right.
Still I watch Tanechka and track the feeds. I sleep perhaps a little more, but I have to watch her. Sometimes Yuri helps, sometimes Mischa. These brothers of mine understand.
When two weeks are up, I win the virginity auction on the street urchin named Nikki for a mere $2,678, which means it’s time for us to focus there.
The men who run the brothel told me what to expect: that I’ll be put in the back of a van and blindfolded for the trip, which will last two hours. I’ll be checked for transmitting devices, weapons, and anything else suspicious. I’ll have a maximum of two unobserved hours with this Nikki, during which time I may do anything aside from striking, choking, maiming, or killing her.
I put in my request for her to be tied and gagged, and I meet the Valhalla van at the bus station
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