The Mobster's Virgin (Filthy Dirty Desires)

“I don’t know where Dad is, but I’ll protect you, Dani. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” I look at him, and he’s barely fifteen and a scrawny little man. I love him, but he’d get killed trying to protect my dignity. It’s not worth it, but I think we should gather our things and run.

“Pack a bag, and we’ll find somewhere to run. It doesn’t matter where we go, but we can find a shelter to help us far from here. Whatever you do, do it fast. I want to be out of here in twenty minutes.”

“Good.” Before I head into my small room, I sneak a quick glance out the window to see if any vehicles are prowling, but it’s all clear. It wouldn’t be long before someone comes looking for him for a job, so when they learn he’s not around, I’m done for.

It takes less than fifteen to gather what we need, and we’re almost about to leave when there’s a loud pounding on the door. The color drains from my face because we’re too late.

I press my hand to Tomas’s mouth and swallow the fear and bile building in my throat.

“We know you’re in there. Open up, Dani girl.”

We turn to run, but the door is busted open and Butch Knuckles comes barreling into the room. My brother jumps in front of me, and Butch pulls out a gun. I scream, “Don’t!” A shot goes off and I cry out, thinking Tomas has been shot, but it’s Butch who falls to the floor. Screaming, I see the silhouette of two men I don’t recognize through my tears and the shadows, but my dad had a lot of dealings so there are plenty of people that could be here.

“Looks to be a problem,” the shooter says. I immediately assume he means witnesses, which means we’re going to die anyway.

“Take him with you,” a deep voice grunts out. A shiver runs down my spine as I watch the man who gave the order step around the man with the gun. It’s my father’s boss in all his virile, dominating glory. He shoots Butch again as if to make sure he’s dead, and then his gaze is on me. It’s intense, deep, and I’m not sure I can handle the flood of emotions running through my body—the betrayal of fear mixed with lust.

Gaining control of my voice, I stare into his steely gray eyes and say, “We’re not going with you.”

A smirk stretches over his rugged, close-shaved beard. It doesn’t reach his eyes. No, there’s no humor in them. They’re filled with that dangerous, predatory warning that sends mortal men running. “You’re going to come with us. You see what we can do. Besides, you owe me, little one.” His hand reaches up and swipes a drop of blood off my cheek. I try to hide the shiver that races through my veins from his touch. “But first, go wash your face. Now.” The command is sharp, but not harsh. Completely confused, I stand there, lost. He starts cursing in another language and then takes my arm.

“Hey, don’t hurt her,” my brother shouts, but the other guy grabs him before he could try and reach for me.

“I’d never, boy,” he snarls at my brother. “Watch who you speak to before I cut out your tongue.”

I’m still in shock that he’s here. He moves me like I weigh nothing, and I suppose compared to his size and build, I don’t. He towers over me, and I could be completely wrapped up in his arms and no one would know I was there. Why did I think of that?

He finds the bathroom with ease as if he’s been here before, but I suppose it’s not like the place is large. We moved three times in the past year, from a nice house, to a nice apartment, to a much smaller apartment. He feels for the light switch and flicks it on. “Filth,” Konstantin snarls in disgust.

“I cleaned it this morning. Sorry, I’m not a professional maid.”

He runs his eyes up and down my body, assessing me. “No, you are not,” he answers.

“Thank you for your assessment. I guess I won’t be working off my debt that way?” I challenge, taunting the wild animal like a foolish, naïve girl.

“No, you’ll definitely be working off your debt another way.” Every syllable of his words was clear as day. He wants me to be a whore.

“I won’t.”

“Oh, yes, you will. Now, I wasn’t talking about your cleaning skills. I was thinking about the shithole apartment you live in. He steals a million dollars from me, and this is where you live?”

“A million dollars?” I gasp. There’s no way in hell he did something like that. We’ve barely had enough food to eat most days. I’m too overwhelmed to process the concept that he could have sent us into such a mess.