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Rejecting the Sinner (Underworld Sinners Book 6) Hayley Faiman full chapter instant download
Rejecting the Sinner (Underworld Sinners Book 6) Hayley Faiman full chapter instant download
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REJECTING THE SINNER
AN UNDERWORLD SERIES NOVEL
HAYLEY FAIMAN
HAYLEY FAIMAN BOOKS, LLC
C O NT E NT S
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief
quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Visit my website at: http://hayleyfaiman.com
Created with Vellum
A L S O B Y H AY LEY FA I M A N
Notorious Devils MC —
Rough & Rowdy
Rough & Raw
Rough & Rugged
Rough & Ruthless
Rough & Ready
Rough & Rich
Rough & Real
SAVAGE BEAST MC —
UnScrew Me
UnBreak Me
UnChain Me
UnLeash Me
UnTouch Me
UnHinge Me
UnWreck Me
UnCage Me
Nasty Bastards MC —
Ruin My Life
Tame My Life
Start My Life
Dance into My Life
Shake Up My Life
Repair My Life
Sweeten My Life
Underworld Sinners—
Stolen by the Sinner
Bound to the Sinner
Caught by the Sinner
F*cked by the Sinner
Stripped by the Sinner
Rejecting the Sinner
Loved by the Sinner
Offspring Legends—
Between Flaming Stars
Beautiful Unwanted Wildflower
Standalone Titles
Royally Relinquished: A Modern Day Fairy Tale
S TAY C O N N E C T E D
Website: http://hayleyfaiman.com
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Sometimes I feel my whole life has been one big rejection.
— MARILYN MONROE
RU S S I A N B R AT VA S T RU C T U R E
ARSENY
I would like to say that murdering the head of the Persian Mafia was a mistake, but it wasn’t. The
fucker was doing nothing but causing goddamn problems. He was a liar and a thief. He was dirty as
fuck, and he wanted to screw over the Bratva just like his piece-of-shit father tried to do. He tried to
fuck with my people, and I killed the piece of shit.
The whole situation has put me in hot water, but not hot enough that I’m actually in any kind of
real trouble. Kazimir and Osip aren’t going to reprimand me in any way. They know what I did was
nothing short of a fucking favor.
Kazimir has kept a close eye on me since it happened, but I don’t regret it. The fuck was a threat,
has been for a while, and needed to go. He did the shit to himself. It was all confirmed to me when
Osip told me exactly what Rostam was so pissed off about. I already knew it though, because Ruslan
had told me.
We talk often, Ruslan and me, considering we’re in the exact same line of business. He started his
after mine and needed an ear to bounce ideas off of. Running women in Russia is a completely
different game than in the United States, so we tend to talk often and share ideas and also talk about
our woes.
Ruslan filled me on everything that was going on with him, his woman, and the Rostam fucker, so
I knew the guy was trash the second I laid eyes on him.
That motherfucker.
Not only did he try and play the whole fucking Bratva, more than once, he also promised Ruslan
virgin call girls and delivered women who were not virgin call girls. No matter how many young
willing girls he sent over to Ruslan, not a single one was a virgin. Typically, that shit doesn’t matter,
we don’t care, but at the same time, he lied.
If he’ll lie about that, he’ll lie about everything else.
Now that he’s dead, his wives no doubt hurt and angry, another man is no doubt setting up to take
over the Persian Mafia, so, I watch. This very much feels like my responsibility since I’m the one
who actually ended the fuck.
I should be at home in SoCal, but I can’t go back there yet. I can’t let this go. Kazimir is pissed at
me, Ruslan doesn’t blame me, but I’m feeling really fucking… off about it all. It’s my duty to handle
this, whatever happens next, whatever fallout comes from my actions.
I don’t know what the fuck is going to happen next. There is something that is just not right about
any of this. The person hasn’t been named who will take over the Persians. There is something just
not sitting right with me about that.
If Osip or Kazimir were taken out today, someone would be named to take their place before the
next day. You cannot go days without leadership when you’re trying to run an organization of any size.
We all wait, wondering what the fuck they’re going to try and get out of the Bratva.
It will be something.
They’re going to try because there is no way that Rostam and his father, who both tried to fuck us
over, were the only ones in that whole group that wanted something from us.
Maybe I should just go home and worry about my own people, my own women, and my own job.
Maybe I should leave this whole area alone. Osip and Ruslan are more than capable of running the
whole NorCal without me. I don’t know why I think that I need to be here.
It’s just a feeling.
Just a fucking feeling that I can’t shake.
So I’m going to stay here until that feeling subsides.
Watching Rostam’s house, I decide that I need to look at other high-ranking men’s homes. Nothing
is happening here, not really. There is a little movement, mostly women and children, a few men here
and there, but nothing of substance much to note.
I have a list of men to check on, but I don’t know how their Mafia works, so I’m just fucking
guessing. Driving toward the first house, I stop across the street and stare. There is a gate surrounding
the place. I’m not going to be able to see anything. It’s the same at every house around here, just like
in SoCal.
I need to just go home.
The passenger side of my car door opens. I look over in shock as a woman slips into the seat
beside me. She’s young, too young. She’s fucking sitting next to me, her eyes wide, then she opens her
mouth to speak.
“Drive,” she demands.
I don’t do anything immediately, unsure of who she even fucking is. Then she leans forward, shifts
the car into drive, and growls before she shouts.
“Drive.”
Slamming my foot against the gas pedal, I do just that. I drive. I don’t know who this is or where
I’m going, but I fucking drive.
ESSIE
“YOU WILL MARRY HIM. I do not care how you feel about it,” my father roars.
He wants to become the next man in charge. He thinks that if he hands me off to the second son of
Kevah, that it will make him the leader or some shit. It won’t. He’s stupid as fuck. Completely fucking
stupid if he thinks that he’s going to be anything.
Even if I become Kevah’s son’s favorite wife, then there is just no way my father is going to
magically take over. It will be Kevah’s son, or maybe another man, but my father isn’t strong enough.
My father is not going to be high ranking, ever.
He isn’t going to do shit.
I’ve seen the way that he attempts to take control of situations, and he fails miserably every single
time. He has no backbone, and he’s not very smart either, he’s fucked completely, and I refuse to be
part of his stupid game.
“I will not,” I snap.
He lunges for me. But I don’t let him touch me.
Not today.
No more.
I’m eighteen years old, and I won’t let him hurt me anymore. For the first time in my life, I turn my
back to him, and I run. He’s going to come after me, so I have to be fast. I don’t know how to outrun
him. My father is weak, but he is fit. He exercises every day, runs, specifically.
Then I see it. A blacked-out sedan parked across the street. Sprinting toward the walking gate, I
punch in the code with shaky fingers and wrench it open, then I run toward the car. My father screams
my name. I can hear him right behind me, the shock of my defiance having worn off, he proceeds to
call me names.
I’m ungrateful, a whore, useless, trash. All of the above. Words that would have killed me a
couple weeks ago. Words that mean absolutely nothing to me right now. Instead, I fucking run toward
the car. At this point, it doesn’t matter who is behind the driver’s seat.
Wrenching the door open, I shout for the man behind the wheel to drive.
Twice.
He drives silently.
Until he pulls into a hotel parking lot.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
He turns to look at me, his eyes wide before his lips curve up into a grin. I take him in for a split
second and I realize that I’ve just gotten into the absolute wrong car. The blond hair, the ice-blue
eyes, the built body, and the suit.
“Oh shit,” I breathe.
His lips curve up into a grin. “Oh shit, is right. How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” I confess.
I don’t know why, but I want to tell this stranger everything. Every little thing about me and my
life. Those eyes, they consume me instantly. He is trouble though. I can tell just by looking at him and
I think that I’m in trouble by being here.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have…”
“But you did,” he says, interrupting me. “Why?”
Looking to the side, I watch as the valet makes his way toward us. I could run as soon as he opens
the door, but where would I go? My father will find me and force me to marry Kevah’s second son. I
absolutely do not want to marry him, but is this the better alternative? Whatever this is.
“I don’t know your name,” he says.
Russian. I hear the accent and I instantly know that he is not English or Persian. He is definitely
Russian. Pressing my lips together, I wonder if I should tell him anything. I probably shouldn’t. This
is trouble. Straight-up trouble, but as I look into those eyes, they practically force me to speak. It’s as
if he’s pulling the words straight from my throat.
“Essie,” I say, not giving him my last name, because my last name doesn’t matter.
“And you’re running?”
“I am,” I admit.
He nods his head. “You probably made a mistake by getting in my car, but maybe not, huh?”
“Probably,” I say.
He chuckles as the valet opens my door. With absolutely nothing but the clothes on my back, I step
out of the car. Looking at the front door of the hotel, tipping my head back, I glance around at the
building.
It's fancy, like really fancy.
The man, whose name I don’t even know yet, places his hand on the small of my back and guides
me into the massive fancy building.
My legs suddenly turn to Jell-O as we walk through the automatic doors. His hand is firm against
my back, his fingers strong. I don’t complain a bit, it feels nice, but I wonder if I’m walking into a
dangerous situation or maybe it’s the exact right place at the exact right time. It’s where I’m supposed
to be? Perhaps this is fate. I’m not quite sure.
But I’m already here.
“Name’s Arseny.”
C HAPTER 2
ARSENY
W alking into the hotel suite, I look behind me as she timidly slips into the room. Essie. What a
pretty name. I have about a million questions for her, but I’m not sure where to begin. She looks
terrified, that much is true, so I decide to just get started. There is no time like the present and I need
to know what I am getting into.
“Want to tell me who you’re running from?” I ask.
She ignores me, slowly walking past me toward the windows that overlook the dreary city. I don’t
really care for this part of the state too much. There isn’t enough sun here. I need to at least have it
pounding through a window most of the day. That doesn’t happen as much up here.
“Not really,” she says.
“You didn’t really have a choice in answering that one,” I point out. “Or any question I ask.”
She nods, the back of her hair moving up and down before she slowly turns around to face me.
When she jumped into my car and demanded I drive, I knew instantly that she was cute, pretty even,
but there’s something else now.
She isn’t just pretty, she’s fucking beautiful.
Stunning even.
Her dark hair, her light eyes, the way she’s staring right at me like she can see into my fucking
soul. I fucking love it and am intimidated by it all at the same time. I don’t get intimidated by women.
They are usually that way with me, not the other way around. Except in this moment, with her. When
she takes a step toward me, I hold my breath. Then she stops and tips her head back slightly.
“My father and the man he decided I would marry.”
“The unknown was a better alternative?” I ask.
She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and watches me for a silent moment, then she takes another
step toward me. I watch as she lifts her hand, placing it at the center of my chest. It’s a bold fucking
move, but I can’t deny that I like the boldness about her. It seems to be bursting from her.
Even if she is terrified, I don’t see it. She hides it well right now. She is brave, this little girl.
“I know the saying is something about better the devil you know, but I know my father and this
man he’s trying to marry me off to and I refuse. There are only two options.”
I wait, but she doesn’t tell me the two options right away. I arch a brow, clearing my throat, then
lift my hand and wrap my fingers around her wrist to hold her there.
Finally, I ask her, “Those being?”
“Be a prostitute for the Bratva or run away and hide for the rest of my life.”
Tilting my head to the side, my lips curve up into a grin. “So you chose whore?” I ask.
Bold.
Did I mention she is bold?
I didn’t know she knew what we did. It shouldn’t surprise me, because Rostam was bringing
women to us, but I supposed it just leaves me a bit shocked because this is not something we would
offer to tell our daughters.
“Better to sell myself to the highest bidder than eat from the trash, yes?”
Clearing my throat, I reach out and wrap the fingers that aren’t holding her wrist around the front
of her throat, I squeeze gently.
She stares at me, and I stare right the fuck back. She’s so goddamn bold, I wonder if she is
someone who could ever be broken? I doubt it, which is why she ran. The man who likely would take
her would want to break her.
“You’re a virgin?” I ask.
She nods her head. “You could… willingly?”
“It’s the first decision I’ve ever made on my own before.”
This is probably a huge fucking mistake. I don’t know exactly who her father is in the Persian
Mafia, but I do know that it’s someone higher up in the ranks. Which means the marriage was likely to
someone high up as well.
“This could cause problems for me.”
“It could.”
I hum, searching her gaze with my own. “You want to sell your virginity? You want to sell your
body?”
Her tongue sneaks out, sliding across her bottom lip and wetting it before she speaks. “Do I want
to? Not particularly. Is it better than selling myself into a life of abuse, breeding, and torture? Yes.”
“Want to move to Southern California?” I ask, squeezing her throat again, gently.
She hums. “I hear it’s sunny there all the time.”
I snort. “We have beaches.”
“I’ve never been to the Southern California beaches,” she breathes. “I’ll move.”
“You’re going to cause a war.”
She laughs softly. “No, I won’t cause anything that isn’t already in motion.”
I wonder what she truly knows. She must know something, because those words, they aren’t
wrong. Although I’m probably the one that truly started whatever is about to come. At least I got the
ball fucking rolling a lot faster than it would have been had I not killed Rostam.
“Welcome to my world,” I murmur.
ESSIE
36
Sillä minä tunnen sen, joka on kaiken työn loppu: juopua ja mennä
koirien luo.
37
38
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Jos sydämesi paisuu siitä yli ääriensä, otan silmäni pois sinun
kasvoiltasi.
Jos äkkiä säikyt siitä kävelylläsi, siirryn syrjään ja valitsen toisen
tien.
42
43
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Puhalla pois minut niinkuin myrsky; ota minulta kaikki, mitä minulla
on; särje minun uneni ja ryöstä unelmani! Autioita koko maailmani!
45
Lopeta siis viimeinen laulu ja erotkaamme!
46
47
Päivä on päättynyt.
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49
50
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53
54
Minkä ilkeän taian olet taivaan tähdistä lukenut, mikä yön salainen,
sinetillä suljettu sanoma on astunut outona ja hiljaisena sydämeesi?
55
Kutsutko jälleen?
Kutsutko minua?
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