New York's bedazzled night hides a brutal underbellyone my brother fell straight into. Now charming Stevie belongs to Sergei Larov, the city's diamond-eyed mafia monster who collects souls like lesser men do fine art. But defiance is my personal brand; enough to sway Larov's granite fixer when mercy failed. The promised sit-down rings hollow victory, though, as I withstand the Czar's arctic glare promising naught but contempt from his gilded throne a hundred miles above my lowly life.
Something in that glittering serpent gaze refuses to release me, however. Bored fascination? Or does some slithering menace shifts unseen beneath the brazen opulence wrapping this notorious crime lord like a second skin? They say all saints who dare Larov's lair divine their secret sins in his eyes. Now delicious shivers threaten my resolve with whispers of dangerous allure. But survival sparks hotter than temptation's threats in my blood. And I know serpents better than most.