Sins and Virtue

Prologue

Konstantin

Somewhere off the coast of Italy…

It was dark and cold, and there was nothing left to hope for.

There was only certain death.

Cold empty abyss of nothing hidden and locked beneath these four walls and silver bars that kept me imprisoned for the last few years.

Rotting away in this hell wasn’t a part of my plan.

Not that any of my planning had gone the way I wanted. All because of those fucking traitors— Adrian, the Brotherhood, the Familiga, and all those fucking cowards that called themselves Made men. They were nothing but pigs to the slaughter. Ones I should have killed myself.

Don’t know why you didn’t.

The voice inside my head said. Annoyed. Hurt. Infuriated.

If you had listened when I told you to end them, we wouldn’t be in this predicament. Eedeeot!

The constant cycle of blame was something I had grown accustomed to, as he constantly liked to remind me.

After all, technically, it was me who wanted to turn the other cheek and ignore the signs. It was my last inkling of humanity and morality that kept me linked to emotions.

Emotions were a liability.

Unstable. Insignificant. Blindsiding the mind's perception and leading to error and miscalculation.

It was the only reason I was caught and dragged to this hellhole while the ones who I trusted and called brothers watched me do so.

They relied on my downfall to enact their treacherous plans.

Not even after our Pakhan had “died” or when we resisted the domination of the Romanovs did I fall before our enemies.

“Fuck,” I gritted, lamenting for the thousandth time as I laid back on my bunk, staring at the gray-ash, moldy cemented ceilings— the same ones that been there for the last few years, the last thousand days.

Daydreaming of the times when I stood in the most luxurious hotels, the best restaurants, and the finest mansions, and I never took the time to admire the simplicity or complexity of the ceilings. Something I took for granted. Many do.

But when you’re behind these bars, you learn to never take anything for granted.

Shit, how did I go from the kid on the street with nothing to the mobster behind bars with still nothing?

The saying was true: the higher the rise, the harder the fall.

Planning to escape wasn’t viable since this was a high maximum security prison off the Mediterranean coast where the only place you could leave was into the town or the ocean. So it didn’t make sense to go down that route.

There was no one who could infiltrate and help me escape. After all, I didn’t have any allies left. Being abandoned and forgotten in this place was a worse fate than death.

Mostly because there was no one left to remember me.

No Mother. No Father. No brothers. No wife.

Ah, how pitiful. Shut up, before I slice your neck and let us both die out here. He heaved in annoyance.

He was more restless than usual, especially because I kept him chained up, prohibited from leaving his chambers.

But wallowing in guilt and sitting here like a whiny bitch wasn’t going to do me any favors.

The scent of fresh sea salt and sand settled against my nostrils and wrestled into my system. Nightfall had settled, the full moon was at its peak, the silver haze cracked in between the slits of the window, and the grey stormy clouds foreshadowed a storm on the horizon.

This was my whole life, full of obscure, bleak grays. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Yet that little pop of yellow bloomed when I closed my eyes, and all I saw was that sweet little nun who tried to lead me to repentance. With the face of an angel and body of a temptress, she was the first woman I had seen in years to forge fire in my blood.

Too bad she was out there and I was locked up in here, or else I would scour the Earth, take her on the spot, and make her my wife.

Hmm, that would seem like a nice life.

Allowing my eyes to rest and letting my defenses fall, drowsiness seeped in for the night as thunder echoed, followed by the droplets of rain that tapped against the window.

The illusion of what could have been played in my mind, and the daydream of me and that pretty little nun standing in front of the Eiffel Tower commenced.

Everything was just fine until the noises of strangling and struggling between one or more people

Probably just a misbehaving inmate or something.

“Inmate, wake up.” A strange voice called out— one I haven’t heard before— from the outside of the cell, hitting the rails with a baton. Echoing incessantly loud and being bothersome.

That wasn’t common. For as long as I have been inside here, I have learned the names of all the guards, officers, nurses, and wardens.

“You have mail,” she added monotonously.

Mail? There was no mail for me. No one has sought me out in years.

A thud reverberated off the floor loudly, as it seemed she had dropped it off.

“Today the fates have played in your favor if you choose correctly, Volkov.” Her prognostic message foretold something crucial.

Intrigue ate at my frontal cortex.

The Fates were a devious trio that dealt the cards they wanted to.

What did she mean by that?

I rose up, my legs hanging over the edge as I looked down at the cemented floor, seeing a metallic square-shaped chip. Jumping off the bed immediately as it caught my attention.

“Wait—” My gaze went to the opposite side of the room, but there was no one there, only darkness. The officer disappeared without a trace in sight.

“What the fuck?” I sighed, my brows hitched together at this mystery.

Was I hallucinating after all this time? Had I finally lost my shit?

You’re not crazy. You just have me. He mocked.

“Now is not the time for jokes, Dya.”

Whatever, you prude asshole. Open up that thing now.

I clicked my teeth, annoyed by the fact I was already picking up the strange device and doing so.

Examining it as it appeared to be some type of hardware rather than advanced technological material. I flipped it over, thumbed it, and wondered how to turn it on.

Accidentally clicking on a button that didn’t seem to be there before.

“Hello, Konstantin Volkov,” a deceptive feminine voice emanated from the tool.

A hologram of a masked woman posed in a chair appeared before my eyes.

Dressed in what appeared to be a very expensive one-shoulder blush-colored evening gown, which naturally was covered in diamonds and lace.

Her long chocolate hair contouring her pale face matched the intensity of her eyes.

The eyes that look like they went to hell.

The unexpected interaction made me drop the device, and I hurried to pick it back up.

“Who are you?” My question offset the interaction.

“Don’t you know? The girl who survived death.”

My eyes widened at the mention. Of course I know; who didn’t?

Her name ripped from the edges of my tongue, as I had some reservations about uttering such a thing.

“Aleskandra Reina De La Rossa. Queen of the Underworld.” More than that, she was the daughter of the most deranged criminal: Luciano Rossi.

The man who massacred all the capos from each mafia because they killed his mother.

And the only man who would get away with it.

So imagine what his progeny would do?

“The one and only.” She confirmed with some disdain in her voice.

Cutting the formality, I asked, “What do you want?”

“I want to do business with you.”

“What business?”

“An alliance. Help me.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart, but I’m not much use to anyone here.”

“I can rearrange that if you accept my proposal.”

“How?”

She couldn’t help but smile mischievously. “I have eyes and ears everywhere. You don’t know who. They could be one of your cellmates, the officers, the tending nurses, or even the warden. Do not fret. I control it all.”

The gears and motor in my brain started to spin. Thinking about who was an ally and who was an enemy. One thing was true: the officer that just passed by my cell was one of hers, and if Aleskandra could get anyone in, she could get them.

“How did you find me? The last time I heard, they put me where no one could.”

“Admittedly it was hard, but as long as you’re not dead, I could find you anywhere on Earth. Even if you went to hell, I would drag you back.” Her determination was the fire to her will.

The sentimentality was flattering.

Truly.

But… there was too much unfinished business left.

“Still, there are too many people who want me dead.”

“Not if you kill them first.” She offered a promising demise to my enemies. “I’m giving you an opportunity for revenge, power, reforming you to your former glory, and returning everything that was stolen from you.”

The delicious thrill of their blood on my hands as I took my time dismantling them piece by piece. Having them beg for mercy. Cry out for their mothers. Plea for their lives—it made me excited.

“Do you accept?” Her raspy tone created a frenzy in my head.

Wait, think about this. We don’t know this woman. Dya had his reservations for obvious reasons, but there was so much more to this.

The answer flew out of my mouth before I could process it further. “Yes?” I was unsure of what consequence this would bring; however, the idea, the taste, and the sensation of freedom of a place beyond these four walls where I could run anywhere, do anything, and be anyone was tempting.

“Confirming your request, is that a yes?”

This time around there was no hesitation, no fear, just the incessant pounding need to get the fuck out of here.

“Yes!” I snapped, eager.

My mouth was dry, feeling like my heart would lurch out of my throat.

Wait, what are you doing? I told you—

It didn’t matter. I wanted out. Out. Now.

“Alright, welcome to the organization.” She announced with anticipation, a victorious smile decorating her pretty pink lips. I had a bad feeling this woman was used to getting what she wanted. “Now throw the chip towards the railing. This will self-destruct in three seconds.”

“Wait, how will I know where to meet you?”

Three.