Page 1 of Bloody Savage God
Chapter One
Mikhail
I’mhunting.It’smyfavorite sport. Except that my prey isn’t an animal. It’s Hank, a bookkeeper who used to work in one of our strip clubs. He’s given me the perfect excuse to go after him, too. Instead of logging the extra income our girls make in the back room, he thought it was a good idea to get creative with the numbers. Him and his associate, Samson.
Unfortunately, Samson is already in jail, so someone else gets to take care of him.
Hank though? He’s all mine.
I followed him from our club to some warehouse. From there he drove to a building downtown. I pull over to the side of the road and watch him go in, clutching a carrier bag. Looks like Hank is not just into bookkeeping and theft, but into deliveries as well. This is something my father will want to hear about.
Curiosity gets the best of me and I google the address we are at. My lips curl up in a grin when a discreet-looking website proclaims this a sex club.
I mean, what hot blooded male wouldn’t be curious about that? Not that I lack options, but I’m not after any plain old pussy. My tastes are more distinct than that.
My needs are more distinct than that.
Watching the entrance, imagine my surprise when a woman who looks uncannily familiar walks up to the building. At first, I don’t make the connection. She looks hot as hell in her long grey coat and black fuck-me-heels, enough that I would have paid attention, anyway. But then there are those red tinted lips that contrast against her long dark hair. The confident walk that makes my dick perk up.
This can’t be the Gianna Bruno, daughter of Leonardo Bruno and heir to the Bruno syndicate my father keeps files on. Not the girl who frequently appears in media coverage about the Bruno family’s real estate firm. Instead of the prim and proper business woman who makes hefty donations to the church in the name of her family and flies below the radar, always the pretty public face for the less than legal doings of her family, she looks ready to rule the underworld. A seductress and Mistress of criminals.
Seeing her here is a shock to my system. A trigger for my obsession.
Every one of my instincts tells me to get out of my car and follow her.
Make her take note of me, the way she is drawing my attention.
I don’t give a damn about the women I fuck. But this is different. This feels like a promise. One that I haven’t felt in a long time. Maybe never.
Of course, that’s when fucking Hank opens the door, passing her as she steps inside the building, and I have to let her walk away.
For now.
Fifteen minutes later, I drive my knife into Hank’s gut again and again in a back alley, cutting out his left eyeball for good measure. Curiously, the overwhelming feeling of adrenaline I usually experience, the feeling that always demands some sort of pain to relieve it, is replaced by images of her.
Something sparks inside of me. I need her to notice me–crave it–but that has never been a challenge before. People don’t ignore a man like me. Even those who don’t know who I am. Those who don’t know what I candoto get their attention.
I’ve never felt this way about a woman. This is new. It’s thrilling.
It’s dangerous.
I am consumed by thoughts of Gianna, which is why I head back to the club a week later.
People come here for sex. For domination.
I’ve come here for her.
The people in this club are ignorant. None of them know who is hidden underneath the leather mask I’m wearing. And that’s exactly how I want it to be.
The only person I now care about is her.
I scan the room, searching for Gianna, wanting a glimpse of her, wanting to confirm that seeing her will send the same thrill through me as it did the last time, but she is nowhere in sight. Disappointed, I turn my attention to the other women, those wearing leather and latex, looking for one who can distract me while I wait.
One who might help me let go of the pressure that’s been building in me since my last act of violence. Since feeling Hank’s optic nerve sever.
I doubt another woman will suffice now that my brain has not pictured anyone but Gianna Bruno for a week, but I’m not a patient man. When I see a tall, voluptuous woman wearing a tight leather dress and holding a bullwhip I give her a once over. She catches my eye and beckons me over with a crooked finger.
As if I need her invitation.
