Wicked Savage: Part 1 – Chapter 1

“So, how far is this place?” my cousin Natalia asks while checking her reflection in a compact mirror and reapplying a bold layer of red lipstick.

“About an hour,” I tell her, looking over at her as I adjust my dress in the limo.

“Damn.” Alisa, my best friend, sighs from across the seat, tugging at the hem of her black minidress. “That’s pretty far.”

“Yeah, and Konstantin always changes the location because it’s so hush-hush.”

“Ooh, mysterious.” She grins. “Is it always in Jersey?”

“Not always.”

“I can’t believe he let us come.” Natalia slips her black lace mask into place. “Think we’ll meet any hot guys there? Maybe a sexy athlete?”

I laugh. “I don’t know, but let’s stick together tonight, okay? Even though Konstantin tracks people with their masks, we don’t wanna talk to anyone sketchy.”

“These have trackers?’ Alisa stares at her mask in disbelief.

“Yep. Oh, and before I forget, no bags or phones are allowed inside.”

“No phones?” Natalia looks horrified. “What the hell? I didn’t know that.”

“Well, duh.” I wave a hand dismissively. “Imagine the scandal if someone snapped photos or took videos.”

“Shit,” she mutters. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“We can just leave our bags in the limo.”

“Damn, now I’m really nervous.” Alisa’s foot starts bouncing.

“Hopefully, once we’re inside, we’ll forget all about the nerves.”

I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince them or myself. But I wanted to do something unforgettable for my birthday. Something few people ever get to do.

When Konstantin, my oldest cousin, said it was okay, I was ecstatic. Getting out of my comfort zone is good sometimes.

As the conversation shifts to college and the guys we like, I feel my excitement growing despite the nerves.

Soon, we pull up to a nondescript industrial building. The parking lot is crowded, and a few people are already heading for the entrance, all dressed to the nines.

One would think this was an elegant party if they drove past. But looks can be deceiving.

“I’ll be here whenever you’re ready to leave, Ms. Marinova,” Pavel, Konstantin’s driver, says in his thick Russian accent as he opens the limo door.

“Thanks.”

He nods as he rounds the vehicle to head back to the driver’s side, while we approach a man standing by the entrance, his red devil’s mask barely concealing his piercing gaze as he uses a wand to scan the crowd.

I stride past the others in line, Alisa and Natalia close by. A few curious eyes follow us, probably wondering who we are. If they only knew.

When the devil man sees my mask, his expression shifts. He recognizes me immediately. Mine’s unique, designed especially for me by Konstantin.

“Mozhete voiti,” he says in Russian after scanning us. You can go in.

“Spaseba.” Thanks.

We head for the entrance where a woman in a sleek black gown with a dramatic feathered mask steps aside, silently signaling for the elevator. She presses the button once we’re inside, and we rise in silence.

“I’m gonna need a drink,” Natalia whispers in my ear.

“Same.” I nod.

Konstantin did warn me that anything goes at his club and told me to be careful or he’d have a big mess to clean up. Of course, I knew what he meant. I’m not some naïve little girl who doesn’t know what sort of family she belongs to. They kill, and they do it easily.

I should know. I watched my father do the unspeakable when I was sixteen, and I still can’t get it out of my head, constantly having nightmares of that day.

I force myself to forget, though. Forget the monster I had to live with. Forget what he took from me.

Right now isn’t the time for that.

Tonight, I want to have fun and celebrate my birthday instead of being sucked into the past.

Once we arrive at the top floor, two guards with plain black masks let us through the doors, and the atmosphere changes the moment we enter. Flashing LED lights and hypnotic music surround us, creating an electric energy as bodies writhe together, lost in the music.

“This doesn’t look so bad,” Natalia whispers in my ear.

“That’s because this is only the beginning.” I scan the crowd, spotting a bar just to the right. “Let’s grab drinks first.”

No IDs are checked here, ensuring anonymity. Only those with permission, like us, are allowed entry. It’s one of the perks of being family or tied into Konstantin’s world. No one under twenty-one is allowed unless Konstantin says so, and that’s rare.

We squeeze through the crowd toward the bar, Natalia already chatting about the night ahead.

“What can I get you ladies?” a bartender asks, her chest completely out in a red corset, nipples covered with two ruby-red stones.

“I’ll have a cranberry vodka,” Natalia tells her.

“Me too.” Alisa nods.

“Make it three,” I tell the bartender.

She scans each of our masks, processing the order. Konstantin’s name is on our tab, but for others, everything gets charged to the card on file.

Minutes later, we’re sipping our drinks, the warmth flowing through me, but a strange knot of unease settles in my stomach. Of course I’d be nervous at a place like this. I glance around, letting my mind wander.

“I heard girls sell their virginities here,” Natalia says casually, swirling her drink.

“Marriage auctions too. Though I’m sure that’s not even the worst of it.”

A laugh dies in my throat when I catch sight of a man with a full-face demon mask dragging a woman through the crowd. That wouldn’t be so bad, except she’s on her hands and knees…and completely naked. Well, except for the black collar around her neck and a peacock mask. But other than that? Yep, butt-ass naked.

“Holy shit!” Alisa gasps, stepping back and bumping into me, which causes me to jolt backward.

And of course, my drink splashes right down my dress.

“Oh, come on,” I groan, staring at the stain spreading across the fabric.

“I’m so sorry!” Alisa’s face reddens as she grabs my empty glass.

“It’s fine,” I mutter. “Just grab some napkins, please.”

She turns to head toward the bar, but stops, eyes wide. Natalia stills too.

“What are you guys doing? I know I’m a mess, but can someone get me some napkins so my nipples don’t freeze to death?”

Better yet…

I start to turn.

Then I feel it. A hand, strong and firm, settling on my shoulder.

“You’re not wrong,” a low, masculine baritone husks in my ear, thick with confidence and something else. Something I can’t quite name. “You’re quite the little mess.”

I pivot quickly, turning toward the voice, and my breath catches when I realize the hard object I had bumped into was actually this man, towering and built like a Greek god.

His eyes meet mine, the piercing pale green intensity sending a jolt through my chest. He’s holding a stack of napkins, and his large hand—thick with veins—sends a rush of heat through me.

I take the napkins from him, avoiding his gaze at first, but it’s impossible to ignore him.

His full lips curl into a playful, devilish smirk, and my stomach flutters in response. His eyes flicker over my body as I blot my dress, his gaze lingering there just a moment too long before he looks up again.

The fabric of his dress shirt stretches taut across his firm chest, two buttons undone, exposing just enough to make me want to see more. And the way his thick, sculpted biceps flex causes my breath to hitch.

It’s a shame most of his face is hidden behind the sleek black mask resting on the bridge of his nose. But somehow, the glimpse of his sharp jawline beneath it only makes him more irresistible.

I lower my eyes, catching sight of a wet spot on his abdomen.

Crap. I made him spill his drink too.

“I’m sorry about that,” I say, grimacing at the stain.

His deep chuckle vibrates through me. “It’s okay, love.” He dips closer until his mouth is against my ear. “I didn’t like this shirt anyway.”

His breath skims the side of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.

You shouldn’t be wearing one.

Just because I’m a virgin, it doesn’t mean I’m not a dirty one.

“What’s your name?”

I tense, suddenly aware of the intimacy of the question, the proximity of his body.

“I’m Cillian.”

Should I tell him? Konstantin never said I wasn’t allowed, only that everyone must keep their masks on. Not like I have to give him my full name.

Fuck it.

“Dinara.”

“Pretty.” His lips curve into a smile that makes my knees weak as his gaze runs over me again, taking in every curve, every movement.

“Are you new here?” His voice is like velvet, rough at the edges.

“Yes.” I discreetly pull at my wet dress. “It’s my birthday.”

He glances down, his eyes narrowing briefly before he meets mine again.

“Then I’ll have to buy you a drink,” he says smoothly, his smile deepening. “Seeing as you’ve managed to spill yours all over your beautiful dress.”

I swallow, suddenly aware of how much he’s watching me. His eyes don’t leave mine, and a warmth spreads through me that has nothing to do with the alcohol.

“I’d love another drink. Vodka and cranberry, please.”

He doesn’t say a word, his gaze locking on my lips before he turns toward the bar, standing there like he owns the world.

There’s something about him, though—something about tonight—that feels like it’s just beginning.

“Holy fucking shit,” Natalia whispers from right behind me. “The man looks like he could throw all three of us over his shoulder.”

“And look at his hands,” Alisa adds. “I once read that guys with thick fingers have big dicks.”

I elbow her lightly, and she laughs.

“I’m just saying. You could use a big dick. Hell, you could use any dick at this point.”

“Shut up before he hears you.” My eyes widen at her in warning just as he spins toward me.

“Here you go.” He hands me the drink with a slow, deliberate smirk, holding one for himself as well.

“Thanks.”

As I take it from him, our fingers brush—just for a second, but it’s enough. A rush of heat shoots through me, like a surge of electricity racing up my arm, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

His eyes lock on to mine, dark and intense, as if he can feel the exact moment the air between us shifts, crackling with tension so palpable I can almost hear it over the pounding music. I can’t look away, trapped in the depth of this intensity, his presence pressing in on me, undeniable and magnetic.

Before I can even react, his arm slips around my waist, pulling me in close. His body, hard and solid, presses against mine—just enough to make my pulse spike. His lips graze along the curve of my ear, his breath hot against my skin.

“Careful,” he whispers, his tone dark and laced with a teasing edge. “Wouldn’t want you spilling that drink too. Don’t think I could handle you making more of a mess of yourself than you already are.”

His words sink under my skin, stirring something wild and untamed inside me, while his fingers press deeper into my hip—firm, possessive. It’s like he’s marking me, claiming me. Holding me here, right where he wants me.

And for a second, I wonder if he’s just playing me. Toying with me. Trying to get under my skin. Under my dress. But my body doesn’t care.

It wants this.

It wants him.

Maybe Alisa is right. Maybe all I need to make my birthday more memorable is a healthy dose of big dick.

I clear my throat, trying to mask the heat pooling low in my stomach, and take a long, burning gulp of my drink. The liquor slides down my throat in a fiery rush, the warmth lingering far longer than it should.

“So, do you come here often?” I ask, the question stained with a flicker of curiosity.

I want to know if he’s a regular.

“Sometimes.” His lips curl into a knowing smile, and my gaze instinctively drifts to his mouth.

It’s a dangerous thing to do, because the way it tugs at my senses makes me suck on the straw slowly, like I’m savoring the taste of something I can’t quite reach.

It’s not that I haven’t been around handsome men before. Half of the guards at Konstantin’s, where I live, are nice to look at. But none of them have made me feel the way this stranger does. Like I wouldn’t mind if he took me into a dark corner, pressed me up against a wall, and had his way with me. I don’t know if he’s gentle or rough, though a part of me desperately hopes he’s the latter.

Cillian’s eyes narrow, a flash of something dark flickering across his face.

Oh God. He didn’t hear that, right?

A knot forms in my stomach, and I silently curse myself.

I need to stop imagining all the dirty things I want him to do to me before I actually say them out loud. That would be beyond humiliating.

“You seem a bit young to be here.” His palm slides down to the small of my back, tightening against me, making it clear that I belong to him in this moment.

My heart skips, stuttering in my chest as the heat of his touch sets a fire in places I never thought I’d feel.

“How can you know when you haven’t even seen my face?” I tease, my smile tugging at the edges.

“Am I wrong?” His lips turn into a wicked smirk, and I feel the pull of it deep inside me.

My body tenses, caught between the tension he creates and the hunger that starts to build.

“Try and find out,” I say, lower than I intended.

But he doesn’t smile. Instead, his hand tightens around my waist, pulling me closer, until I’m pressed against the hard length of him. Fingers slide up to my jaw, gripping it with a force that steals my breath.

“I’ll take that bet.” A low, gravelly growl rumbles from him.

His thumb brushes across my lips—once, then twice—as his gaze flickers to my mouth for a brief moment. When those eyes burn into mine, I inhale sharply, the air between us thick with awareness.

“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath, chest rising sharply like he’s fighting with himself. Fighting the urge to kiss me. To do more than that.

The energy between us crackles, undeniable and electric, and I know without a doubt I’d do anything to make him kiss me. But instead of leaning in, he holds back, his thumb still lingering against my lips, sending waves of heat through me.

He mutters something under his breath, something I can’t catch, and lets out a deep, almost frustrated sigh. “I should go.”

But instead of pulling away, his grip on my chin tightens and he draws me even closer, his breath hot against my skin.

“Why?” I can’t hide the desperation.

I don’t want him to leave. Not until I know who he is. Not until I’ve had more of him.

“I have somewhere else to be.” His words make a knot of disappointment form in my chest.

“That’s too bad.” My mouth parts in protest, but before I can say another word, his thumb feathers across my bottom lip.

I can’t help it. My tongue flicks out, tasting him.

“Fuck,” he groans, his fingers tightening around my chin, and then he finally lets me go.

But he doesn’t step back. Doesn’t walk away. He stays right there, eyes never leaving mine.

“I’ll see you around, a ghra.” His words are a whisper, a promise.

And then he starts to pull away.

He’s just a stranger. A man I’ll never see again. So why does it feel like a piece of me is slipping away with him?

“Wait.” I grab his bicep, and he jerks slightly, muscles shifting under my fingers.

“A ghra. What does it mean?” I ask, breathless, eager to hold on to whatever this is.

A roguish grin spreads across his face as he stalks closer. His lips brush the edge of my ear, sending a jolt of electricity straight down my limbs.

“Try and find out.”

The need in my core intensifies, aching and raw, and I know I’m on the edge of something I can’t pull back from.

“I’ll take that bet,” I breathe out, the words a challenge I never intended to make.

He chuckles darkly, low and rich, the sound vibrating through me. “Happy birthday, beautiful.”

Then, before I can process what’s happening, he presses a kiss to my cheek—so soft, so light, I almost don’t believe it’s real.

My hand moves of its own accord, wrapping around the back of his head, pulling him closer, wanting more.

His response is immediate. With a groan, he tugs at my hair, jerking my head back as his lips hover dangerously close to mine.

“The next time you touch me like that, I won’t be able to resist.”

“Who said I want you to?” The words spill out before I can stop them, breathless and reckless.

I don’t know what I’m doing, but every inch of my body is screaming for him, my mind drowned in a haze of need.

He winds my hair around his wrist, pulling me in just a fraction closer, his breath hot against my ear. His teeth graze the sensitive skin, sending an electric shock straight to my core. Those eyes burn hot—dark, smoldering, possessive—and I feel the weight of them, like a secret promise I can’t ignore.

“Delicate little thing… You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

His words hit me like a force of nature, making a tremor run through my body as the heat rises inside me.

I open my mouth to respond, but no sound comes out.

Before I can gather myself, he steps back, his fingers slipping from my hair, but his gaze never leaves mine.

“I’ll see you around, Dinara. Don’t get into too much trouble without me.”

My body is still humming with the rush of him, the electricity of his touch.

I manage a shaky smile, trying to play it cool. “Are you worried about me already?”

He laughs—a low, dark sound that reverberates through my chest, like a melody meant just for me. Before I can say anything else, he’s already turning away.

“What the hell was that?” Natalia brings me back as she appears at my side. “He was basically eye-fucking you the entire time.”

“If you’re not interested, I’ll gladly take him off your hands,” Alisa teases, watching him walk away with a hungry gleam in her eyes.

I throw her a pointed glare. “He’s mine, girls. He just doesn’t know it yet.”