Dirty Hearts: Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

“Very cocky.”

“You like it.”

“And the French?”

“Perfumed Pansies.”

“Excuse me?”

I shook my head. “They’re not even on my radar. If they cause us problems, I’ll send my low levels to slap them.”

She chuckled.

I quirked my eyebrows. “I’m funny to you?”

“The balls on you.”

“This is why the world can’t stand me.”

“I’m seeing.”

“Sometimes you have to tell people who you are, mysh.”

“And who are you?”

“The lion,” I growled and dove into the curve of her neck.

She giggled.

I nibbled at her neck and whispered, “I don’t look for trouble. It comes to me…scared and pissing in its pants.”

“Still.”

“Still what?”

“I can look into the French while we’re in Paris. Who’s heading? Tell me about them.”

I glared at her. “Nyet.”

She shrugged. “I would just be—”

“It’s not necessary.”

“Wait. How long are we going to be there?”

Whenever Zahkar finds this guy cutting monkey heads.

“Kaz?”

“It’ll be a short vacation. We deserve one.”

“Maybe I should’ve brought my men.”

“Hmmm. Somehow I forgot to bring them with us.”

“I bet you did.”

“They crowd you too much.”

“They’re supposed to.”

“I can take care of you better.”

“It’s not about that.”

“Sometimes it is.”

“If it will be longer than a few days, I’m sending for them.”

“Nyet.”

“Kazimir…whatever. I’m still going to look into the French.”

“We’re done talking about it.” My words came out louder than I wanted, but she had to understand that this was my world and she would do it my way.

“Okay.” Sighing, she rose from the bed. “Fine.”

Am I in trouble?

She left the room, taking that lovely ass with her.

I rose and cracked my neck, readying myself for the chase. I took off my shirt and slung it on the bed. My feet hit the carpeted floor. The plane’s engine vibrated through to my soles.

Where are you, mouse?

Shadows loomed within the dining room. My men took the opportunity to sleep while we were in the air. I wouldn’t be worth my position if I couldn’t protect myself on my own plane.

I scanned the dark space, barely making out the walnut table. Even the window shades were pulled down. Far ahead, a door had been cracked open, showing a sliver of light.

Did you go to get something to eat?

I stepped forward.

Someone grabbed me from behind and locked their arm around my neck.

Unable to breathe, I stiffened and twisted. The arm tightened around my neck some more.

What the hell?

My assailant was a tiny thing.

As small as a mouse…

I leaned forward and lifted her. Emily pushed us forward and, to my surprise, brought us down to the table. Shit. Grunting, I missed the table’s edge, barely slipped out of her hold, and rushed for her.

Too fast, she left me, blending into the shadows.

I scowled at the darkness. “What the fuck was that, mysh?”

“I’m teaching you a lesson.”

She’s on the left.

I charged for her.

She got me from behind again, locked that arm around my neck, and had us down on the ground.

Who the fuck taught her this? I’ll kill them.

She whispered in my ear, “Tap out.”

Never.

I grunted, used all of my energy, and raised us both in the air.

“K-kaz?”

I turned us to the window and gently pressed her against it.

Shocked, she loosened her hold on my neck for one second.

I slipped out, grabbed her arms, and twisted them behind her. I couldn’t keep the smirk off my face. “What was the lesson again?”

She kicked my leg fast.

I lost balance.

She tripped the other leg.

I hit the wall.

She giggled. “Come on, lion. Is that all you can do?”

“You don’t want to see what I can do.” I left the wall and charged for her.

Emily ducked, went to the ground, trapped my ankle, and swept my feet out from under me.

“Goddamn it.” I crashed to the ground, but grabbed her, yanked that little body down with me. A mad scramble ensued, wrestling and rolling. Trapping arms and shoving legs away. I copped a few feels of those lovely breasts. Her hand may have purposefully brushed against my cock.

I pinned her to the floor. She parted her thighs. My cock stiffened. No longer focusing on the fight, I groaned, falling into the trap. She rolled me over, twisted my wrists, and left me.

Frowning, I scanned the shadows and rose. “Maybe, this lesson is about running.”

She shoved me from behind and disappeared.

I hit my ass against the table and lost her.

Damn it. I almost had her.

She disappeared but whispered from the shadows, “The lesson was that you’re not as bad as you think, and I’m no punk either.”

I scanned the dark room, wondering where she was now. “How could you teach me that, mysh?”

“You can’t be that big and bad, if you let a little girl from Harlem beat you on your own plane.”

“That’s what you were doing?” I leaned against the table.

She didn’t respond, probably knowing I was searching for her.

“You’re not some little girl from Harlem. And this isn’t my plane. It’s ours. Due to that, I held back. If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead.”