NIKOLAI
⟿❂⟾ Chapter 1 ⟿❂⟾ PRESENT DAY ⟿❂⟾ People always say storms cleanse the soul. That’s a lie. Storms drown out screams, wash away blood, and mask the sound of sins being committed. I should know because I’ve used enough of them to my advantage. Tonight was no different. I stepped into the ruined chapel, shaking rain off my coat, and lit a cigarette. The place was a disaster: shattered stained glass, overturned pews, and enough mold on the walls to give a health inspector a heart attack. My money had kept the building standing this long. Now, it barely looked worth saving. “Don’t move!” The tiny voice snapped through the silence like a whip. I froze mid-drag and turned. At first, I thought I was imagining things. Maybe the storm was messing with my head. But no, there she was: a woman in a plain gray dress, clutching a rosary like it was a weapon. Her hair was tied back too tight, her face scrubbed too clean. She had remarkable grey eyes that blazed like she wanted to set me on fire. A nun. Or something close to it. God has a twisted sense of humor. “You’re trespassing,” she said, her voice sharp and clear, even over the rain pounding on the roof. I blew out a stream of smoke and smiled. “This is private property.” Her grip on the rosary tightened. “You mean your property, don’t you? The same property you neglected until it became this… this…” She gestured at the ruins, clearly searching for a word that wouldn’t make her confession list longer. “This wreck.” I shrugged. “It has character.” “You have no character,” she snapped. Okay. I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting that. Most people who speak to me like that usually aren’t alive long enough to regret it. But instead of feeling insulted, I found myself… entertained. “I take it you’re not here to thank me for the funding?” I asked, flicking ash onto the cracked floor. She stepped closer, her expression turning from angry to furious. I’d seen men point guns at me with less conviction. “You think you can absolve yourself with bricks and mortar? Repentance isn’t bought, it’s earned.” I couldn’t help it, I laughed. Not the polite kind, either. The real thing, loud and unapologetic. “You’re right. How much does forgiveness cost these days? A million? Two?” “Forgiveness isn’t for sale,” she said, her voice cold enough to rival Siberia. “Pity.” I let the cigarette dangle from my lips and looked her over, slowly. “You’re not a nun yet, are you?” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m preparing to take my vows.” “Interesting,” I said, leaning against the altar. “How does someone like you end up in a place like this? Bad breakup? Boring life?” Her eyes narrowed. “How does someone like you destroy a place like this? Too much money? Too little conscience?” Both. “You’re not a man,” she added, her voice dripping with disdain. “You’re a wolf in a suit.” “And you,” I said, smirking, “must be the lamb foolish enough to stand in my way.” She looked ready to swing that rosary at my head, and a small part of me wanted to see if she’d actually do it. “You don’t belong here,” she said finally, stepping back toward the door. “Go back to whatever pit you crawled out of. This is sacred ground.” I glanced around at the destruction. “Sacred? Looks more like a graveyard to me.” Her hand flew to her rosary, as if she was praying for patience—or strength to strangle me. “You can rebuild every wall in this place, but it won’t change who you are. You think money can cleanse your soul? It can’t.” I stepped closer, just enough to see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “I’ll only allow my soul to be cleansed if it’s your pussy juices being used as the holy water, sweetheart.” Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she turned and walked out, leaving me alone in the storm-ravaged chapel. For the first time in years, I felt something other than the usual numbness. Intrigue. I stared at the doorway she disappeared through, rain was still slamming against the chapel roof like a goddamn funeral march. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here, much less a nun who clearly knew exactly who I was. Those ungodly eyes, wild and accusing, weren’t something I’d forget anytime soon. I hadn’t come back to this ruined chapel for a guilt trip, but something about her words about repentance not being bought, but earned, itched under my skin. She didn’t know the half of it. I flicked the cigarette to the ground, grinding it under my heel, and stepped outside into the downpour. The rain drenched me to the bone as I jogged down the cracked cobblestone path. Ahead, her figure moved swiftly, her gray dress now plastered to her body. Although I couldn’t see anything on her face beyond those impossible to miss grey eyes, I could tell this nun would have a pretty face to go with that nice body. She was headed toward a cluster of half-collapsed buildings that looked as broken as this entire place. I found myself wondering what it’d feel like to press this sweet little nun against one of these collapsed building and drill the fuck out of her cute little cunt. Jesus, Nikolai! She is a nun, for God’s sake. “Hey!” She didn’t stop. “Stop running!” I barked, picking up my pace. Her head snapped around, and I saw her face twist into fury before she turned forward again. She didn’t want to talk. Too bad. I reached her within moments, grabbing her arm just as she stumbled on a loose stone. She whirled around, yanking herself free with surprising strength. “Let go of me!” she screamed, her voice cracking. I raised my hands in mock surrender. “Easy, Sister. I just want to talk.” “Talk?” “I'm sorry about the bad words I used earlier,” I said mockingly. “That was just the devil in my dick speaking.” “You’re the devil.” She said accusingly. “Men like you don’t talk. You destroy, you kill, you… you ruin lives.” I frowned. “Is this still about the… incident?” Her eyes blazed. “Incident? Is that what you call it?” She jabbed a finger into my chest, unafraid of the fact that I could snap her in two if I wanted. “You brought your dirty business here, and you left us to pick up the pieces. Do you even know what you did?” I didn’t answer. “You don’t, do you?” Her voice cracked, her anger unraveling into raw pain. “You don’t care about the scared children, the injured, the ones who died. Father Andrew… He was a good man, and you—” Her voice broke. “You turned this place into a war zone. You killed him.” “I didn’t pull the trigger,” I said quietly. “But it was your men!” she screamed, her face contorted with grief. “Your deal. Your orders! Your fault.” Her chest heaved as tears began streaming down her face, mixing with the rain. “Do you know what it’s like to lose everything? To have your world ripped apart because men like you don’t give a damn about human life?” I wanted to remind her that the world wasn’t fair, and that people like me didn’t get where we were by caring about the consequences. But something about the way she looked at me made the words catch in my throat. Suddenly, she collapsed to her knees, and following that were loud sobs. “Shit,” I muttered, raking a hand through my wet hair. I crouched down beside her, unsure of what the hell I was supposed to do. Comforting people wasn’t exactly in my skill set. “Get up,” I said gruffly. She didn’t move. I sighed and reached out hesitantly, patting her on the head like a child. She didn’t push me away. Instead, she leaned into me, her body trembling as she sobbed against my chest. “You done?” She didn’t answer. “Listen,” I said, my tone light. “I get it. You’re upset. But crying about it isn’t going to bring your priest back or fix this dump. My money can.” Her hands dropped, and she glared at me with tear-filled eyes. “You’re a monster.” I chuckled, the sound low and amused. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” She didn’t pull away. Her wet, shivering form pressed against me, and the warmth of her breath against my neck sent a jolt through me. It wasn’t the time or place, but I couldn’t stop the heat pooling in my body. “I hate you,” she whispered. “Join the club,” I replied, grinning. She shoved at my chest, but it was half-hearted, her strength sapped by her tears. She slumped forward instead, her head suddenly resting against my shoulder. “God, you’re exhausting,” I muttered, awkwardly patting her on the back. She tilted her head up, her tear-streaked face so close to mine that I could feel her breath. For a moment, I wondered what it would feel like to kiss her, to ruin her in the way men like me always ruined good things. Fuck, fuck, fuck. As if reading my unholy thoughts, her eyes widened, and she shoved me away suddenly, scrambling to her feet. “No,” she said, shaking her head, her voice trembling. “I—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” She trailed off, hugging her arms around herself as if she could hold herself together. “Shouldn’t have what?” I asked, rising slowly. Her cheeks flushed crimson. “Nothing. I just… I need to go.” She turned away, muttering, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so stupid…” I caught her arm, stopping her. “Wait.” She flinched but didn’t pull away. “Don’t apologize,” I said, surprising even myself with the softness of my voice. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” Her silver eyes met mine, filled with confusion and something else—something fragile. I released her arm and stepped back, giving her space. “You’re right,” I said after a moment. “About all of it.” She blinked, startled. “But,” I added, my voice hardening, “the world doesn’t care about right and wrong, Sister. And it sure as hell doesn’t care about you or me.” She frowned. “What are you saying?” “Let me make it up to you.” I said very casually. “I’ve got a bunch of other buildings just like this one lying around unused in Albany. I’ll be there for the next three months, setting up a new office. While I’m at it, I could fix this place up for you, your nuns, and the kids. Make it something halfway respectable… or at least not a complete dump.” I watched her carefully, that little spark in her eyes, the one that was equal parts annoyance and interest. It was amusing how she could pretend like I wasn’t offering her something she clearly needed. “What I’m saying is, you could all move to one of those houses.” Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought she was going to yell at me again. But instead, she turned and walked away, her figure disappearing into the rain. “I’ll be waiting for a response before 6PM tomorrow!” I called after her, too smug to stop myself. She didn’t dignify that with a response. I stood there, the cold seeping into my bones, and wondered why the hell I felt like I’d just lost a battle I didn’t even know I was fighting. “That, Nikolai, is because you’re going to have to fuck that nun.” And, yeah. I would.Chapter 2⟿❂⟾SYLVIA⟿❂⟾If sneaking into the shelter without being caught were an Olympic sport, I’d take gold. Well, maybe bronze.Okay, lying is a sin. I’d probably trip over my own feet, crash into a nun, and get excommunicated on the spot.“Just a few more steps,” I whispered to myself, my heart pounding louder than the damn church bells on Sunday morning.My left sock betrayed me by sliding on the smooth floor. “Shit!” I hissed, then clamped a hand over my mouth. A nun isn’t supposed to cuss!I was going to hell. Straight to hell. Not even purgatory was going to bother with me at this rate.I shuffled forward, cringing with every creak and groan the ancient staircase made under my weight. I could already imagine Mother Beatrice’s face if she caught me, that withering glare that could peel paint off walls.Halfway up, the sound of footsteps froze me in place. Oh no. Ohhh no.I turned so slowly I could hear my neck creak. And there she was. Mother Beatrice, in all her holy wrath,
𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 Thank you for choosing Nikolai’s Tainted Nun. This is the third installment of the Region Mafia Men series, but don’t worry—this book is a standalone. You can dive in without having to read Books 1 and 2, as each installment explores a different couple, plot, and setting. However, if you’d like to learn more about some recurring characters, like Russel, Vincenzo, and their wives, feel free to check out the first two installments—they’re standalone books as well. 𝓗𝓞𝓝𝓔𝓢𝓣 𝓡𝓔𝓠𝓤𝓔𝓢𝓣 Love, if you enjoy this book, please drop a comment on each chapter to share your thoughts. Your feedback means the world to me. As a way of supporting me, don’t forget to vote for the book and leave a 5-star rating on the front page. Your support makes all the difference! 𝓦𝓐𝓡𝓝𝓘𝓝𝓖 I must warn you—this is a dark romance. As the name suggests, this book explores intense themes, some of which may challenge your morals or comfort zone. If you’re up for the
Chapter 3 ⟿❂⟾ Nikolai ⟿❂⟾ The rain had slowed by the time I made it home, but the cold clung to my skin like an unwelcome memory. Drenched, I peeled off my coat and tossed it onto the armchair near the window, watching as water pooled around its edges. The housekeeper was going to lose her shit over this. The place was dead quiet, except for the occasional snort from Fur, my dog, or rather, my freeloading furry roommate. He wasn’t a watchdog; he was a sleep-dog. The lazy bastard would only move if food or belly rubs were involved. I’d dragged his ass here because, frankly, I didn’t trust the housekeeper at the main house. That woman would probably ‘accidentally’ feed him antifreeze and claim it was Gatorade. I looked over at him, sprawled on the couch like some sort of aristocrat. “You’re not even a real dog, are you? I bet if someone broke in, you’d hand them the good silver and wag your tail on their way out.” He snorted again. I sighed. This place wasn’t much,
Chapter 4⟿❂⟾Sylvia⟿❂⟾If there’s one thing I’ve never quite nailed, it’s the art of playing a demure, well-mannered nun in the making. I think a perfect term for Sister Sylvia would be bold disaster, rather than the conventional bashful duchess aura everyone wears around here. That must be why Sister Agnes never liked me, and perhaps why Mother Beatrice watches me like a hawk.Either that, or the fact that I showed up in her shelter like Jane Doe one rainy night, shivering like a hooker in church, wide-eyed and bleeding, with no memory of my own name. Who wouldn’t find that suspicious? Certainly not Agnes.“We need to call the gentleman.”I folded my arms tightly and stared at Mother Beatrice like she had just suggested we start laundering money for the mafia. For someone who had spent years drilling discipline into people, she had an unsettling way of being too trusting.“Respectfully, I think that’s a terrible idea,” I said, keeping my voice as steady as possible. “I understand
Chapter 5 ⟿❂⟾ Nikolai ⟿❂⟾ It was 38 minutes past 5p.m and she hadn’t called. I was checking my fucking watch like a fool. I leaned against the open door of the black SUV, my gaze flicking from the warehouse to the men inside. This deal should have been wrapped by now, but everything about tonight felt slower than usual, maybe because I wasn’t in the mood for patience. Luigi stood to my left, flicking his lighter open and closed, the metallic snick echoing between us grated so hard on my fucking nerves. Manuel stood a few feet away, cigarette dangling from his lips as he muttered something to another guy beside him. Across from them, our ‘business partners’ for the evening, Bruno Santini and his men were huddled around the crates, whispering like schoolgirls. Santini was short, greasy, and about as trustworthy as a snake in a crib. His boys were restless as a virgin on her wedding night, their fingers twitching toward their weapons every few minutes. I didn’t trust
Chapter 6 ⟿❂⟾ Sylvia ⟿❂⟾ He didn’t leave a card. No address. No way to reach him. For a man who seemed to have all the answers in the palm of his hands, Nikolai had simply disappeared like a ghost, leaving me to stew in my own desperation. And I was desperate. We all were. Mother Beatrice did her best, pleading with the parishioners to keep the shelter open, but for an NGO housing only women and children, generating no revenue—there was only so much the church could do. The shelter was shutting down. There was no denying it anymore. We were quite literally out of options. “Father Andrew would have known what to do,” I’d heard the Sisters whisper this morning, voices low but edged with frustration. For the three days it took me to arrive at this terrible decision, I felt absolutely miserable. Because there was something I could do. And that truth felt like a noose tightening around my throat. Agnes had made sure everyone knew. “A certain man is willing to help us, but can yo
Chapter 7⟿❂⟾Sylvia⟿❂⟾Two hours.That was how long I sat there, curled up on the broken, hard wooden pew, shivering, waiting for a man who was never going to show up.Somewhere between the cold seeping into my bones and the gnawing ache in my chest, I’d started crying without even realizing it. Silent, stupid tears that I wiped away angrily, but they just kept falling, carving hot trails down my cheeks.I didn’t even know why.Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was the helplessness clawing at my insides.Or maybe it was the terrifying realization that I might have just raised everyone’s hopes for nothing.Because what if it wasn’t Nikolai?What if the anonymous donor who had promised to help the shelter wasn’t him at all?What if I had made them believe, led them on, promised them, that someone powerful was going to step in and save us, only for it to all be a big fat lie?What if Mother Beatrice had looked at me with those hopeful eyes, had prayed over us, believing that help h
Chapter 8 ⟿❂⟾ Nikolai ⟿❂⟾ A nun that reads erotica. Erotic romance novels, to be precise. Why do I find that so fucking spicy? I let my thumb skim over the pages, my gaze flicking between the words and the trembling woman standing by the door, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted in outrage, and her eyes burning with a mix of humiliation and fury. Oh, she was pissed. It should’ve amused me more than it did, but the fire in her eyes barely distracted me from the fact that she was soaked, shivering, and—fuck me—she had been crying. Crying. The knowledge made something in my chest tighten in a way I didn’t like. I had been sitting here for the past two hours, waiting, my patience thinning, my mind wandering to places it had no business going. At first, I was mildly annoyed. She was late. A minor offense. Then an hour passed, and I started to wonder. Another thirty minutes, and irritation settled deep in my ribs. Another thirty, and my thoughts turned dark. Has she been out
Chapter 41 ⟿❂⟾ Sylvia ⟿❂⟾ Two days had passed. Why hadn't he forgotten? "What?" I stalled, my mind scrambling. "Don't play dumb, Sylvia. It doesn't suit you." His eyes alone were enough to command my full attention. "There's no way I'll forget that when you were cumming around my fingers, you called out another man's name." “Jesus, Nikolai.” I groaned, pressing a hand to my burning face. “I literally just prayed for forgiveness minutes ago.” His eyes remained hard, but his hand came up anyway, fingers trailing along my collarbone, they dipped just beneath the thin neckline of my nightie to trace the curve of my breast. A casual, possessive touch. Like he was making a statement. “Then you better start talking,” he said, voice full of wicked promise. “Or you’ll be offering a different kind of prayer—with your face against that same altar.” He gestured to the crucifix with his head, “I bet he’d love to see just how filthy his holy little lamb is.” My entire body seized up. “Lord
Chapter 40 ⟿❂⟾ Sylvia ⟿❂⟾ Two days of solitude had given me too much time to reflect my sins. I finished the last prayer bead, pressed my lips against the small silver crucifix as my final words echoed in the stillness of my room. "Thank you Jesus for sins forgiven." I whispered, though I wasn't sure if I was truly seeking absolution anymore. For just a moment, I felt clean. At peace. Safe. Then the floorboard behind me creaked and I realized I wasn’t alone. Slowly, I crossed myself and turned, still on my knees, to face whatever demon had come to swallow me, most likely as punishment for the thoughts in my heart. Then my eyes adjusted to the dim light of my room, and my heart slammed against my ribs. Of course it was him. He stood there like a fallen angel, beautiful and terrible in equal measure. His imposing frame blocked what little moonlight filtered through the window, casting him in silhouette. He was dressed the part of a masked psychopath stalker, down to the hoo
Chapter 39 ⟿❂⟾ Nikolai ⟿❂⟾ “We've got something." I followed Viktor to the makeshift investigation house we had just established at the Lab House. Computer screens lined the wall, surveillance footage playing on some, data scrolling across others. "We found a partial print on the envelope," Viktor explained, gesturing to Luigi who sat hunched over a keyboard. "Not enough for a match in any database, but it's something." "What about the symbol?" I asked, staring at the blown-up image of the serpent wrapped around a dagger. "Nothing concrete yet," Luigi replied without looking up. His fingers continued their relentless dance across the keyboard. "It's not associated with any known group in our records. I'm running it through international databases now. With Liam’s help.” I nodded slowly. "And the security footage?" Viktor released a breath. "That's where it gets interesting. They knew exactly where the cameras were. Moved in blind spots whenever possible." He pulled up the
Chapter 38 ⟿❂⟾ Nikolai ⟿❂⟾ “You’re sure it wasn’t them?” Viktor exhaled on the other end of the line. “Not really. We haven’t known them long enough to recognize a pattern, but one thing I’m certain of is that those guys are sloppy as fuck. This particular heat was precisely calculated. It doesn’t fit their style.” My fingers clenched around the phone. “Casualties?” “Two of our men.” His voice dipped, carrying the weight of loss. “Travo and Sergei. They were guarding the Lab House. Didn’t even have time to call for backup.” The words hit me like a gut punch. Before I could process the fury swelling inside me, my fist connected with the car door repeatedly. Pain exploded up my arm, but it was nothing compared to the raw anger simmering beneath my skin. “Our merchandise?” I ground out, flexing my bleeding knuckles. “Gone. All of it.” Viktor’s voice was edged with frustration. “They knew exactly what they were looking for.” “Fuck!” The word tore from my throat, raw and vicious
Chapter 37 ⟿❂⟾ Sylvia ⟿❂⟾ "I can wait until you're inside.” Luigi offered, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. "No, thank you," I said quietly. "I'll be fine from here." Luigi nodded, his expression carefully neutral. Was he judging me? Did he know exactly what had happened between Nikolai and me? The thought made heat creep up my neck. I stepped out of the car and straightened my clothes, suddenly hyper-aware of how I looked. Jeans and a simple button-up shirt. Not my habit. The evidence of my transgression was literally written all over me. I waited until Luigi's car disappeared around the corner before making my way to the convent. My body felt foreign to me—still humming with the ghost of pleasure Nikolai had wrung from it, aching with the hollow aftermath of his rejection. My thighs still bore the phantom impression of his hands. I slipped through the side entrance, the one closest to the dormitories. If I was quick, I could make it to my room before— "Well, w
Chapter 36 ⟿❂⟾ Sylvia ⟿❂⟾ One moment, I was floating in post-orgasmic bliss, and the next—ice. Pure ice in his gaze. "Who the fuck is Sin?" My mouth opened and closed, no sound emerging. The name had slipped out without thought. The shame hit me like a bucket of cold water. I scrambled to sit up, painfully aware of my nakedness, my exposure. My thighs were still slick with my own cum, lips swollen, hair disheveled. "I—it's not—" I fumbled for words, but nothing came. How could I possibly explain? The coldness in his eyes was unbearable after the heat that had been there just moments ago. "Nikolai, please..." My voice sounded small even to my own ears. "I can explain—" He cut me off with a sharp gesture. "Go on." His voice was terrifyingly calm. I would have preferred yelling. At least anger would have been something familiar, something I could understand. This cold detachment was so much worse. "It's not what you think," I managed, though I had no idea what he was thi
Chapter 35 ⟿❂⟾ Nikolai ⟿❂⟾ I needed a minute, so I stood up. She did too. "Do you know what happens to good girls who walk willingly into the devil's lair?" I asked, circling her slowly. She turned to keep me in sight, refusing to be intimidated. "They get burned?" "They get consumed," I corrected, stopping behind her, my front pressed to her back, my hands settling on her hips. "Devoured. Until there's nothing left but ashes and pleasure." I felt her shiver against me as I brushed her hair aside, exposing the delicate nape of her neck to my mouth. I kissed her there, just the lightest press of lips, and she practically melted against me. "How often do you touch yourself, Sylvia?" I murmured against her skin. Her breath hitched. "Ne—" she stuttered. "Never?" I slid my hands from her hips to her stomach, spanning her waist with my fingers. "Not even when thoughts of me kept you awake at night?" She hesitated, and I chuckled. "Don't lie to me, little nun." "I... try not t
Chapter 34 ⟿❂⟾ Nikolai ⟿❂⟾ I lowered myself to my knees before her, bringing us to eye level. “Sylvia, we talked about this. No touching between us.” She exhaled stubbornly. "Touch me." Two words that cracked my restraint like glass. "Where?" Her hand rose, trembling slightly, to touch her own cheek. "Here." Then her neck. "Here." Her collarbone. "Here." I remained motionless, letting her map the path of her desire, “Every place you touch," I promised, "I'll remember.” Behind me, the sounds from the room grew more heated. Sylvia's eyes flickered to the glass then back to me. "They're performing," I explained. "Acting out a fantasy for whoever might be watching." "Is it always like that? Just... performance?" I considered the question. "For them, yes.” "And for you?" she pressed. "When you watch, is it just... physical release? Or is there more?" "It was," I admitted. "Before you. Simple. Uncomplicated." "Now?" "Now nothing feels simple." My hands gripped the arms of th
Chapter 33 ⟿❂⟾ Nikolai ⟿❂⟾ The loophole was so unexpected, so pragmatic, that I laughed despite myself. "You've really thought this through." "I told you," she said with a small smile. "I've been praying about you." "And God's answer was to watch me get off?" Her smile widened. "God works in mysterious ways." I shook my head. "You are so fucking bold.” "Sometimes," she agreed. "Now, don’t keep a lady waiting." The temptation was overwhelming, to show this pure, untouched woman the darkness inside me, to let her witness my most private ritual, to corrupt her even as she remained technically pure. "If we do this," I said slowly, "you sit there." I pointed to a smaller chair in the corner, positioned to view both the room beyond the glass and the main chair. "You don't move, don't speak, don't touch yourself or me. You just watch. Understand?" She nodded, her pupils dilated with what could only be desire. "I understand." I hesitated, giving her one last chance to