Dirty Hearts: Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

Simon took out his cane and took his time moving forward. “Well, don’t worry. You’re safe with me. I’ll protect you both.”

Emily covered her mouth to keep in a laugh.

“But stay close.” Simon held his hand up. “Guns or not, this network of tunnels is massive. Not all of them have been mapped out. Most is uncharted territory.”

Emily spoke. “They should get people to go down here and map it out.”

Simon gave a dark laugh. “Not many are jumping for that job, but there are few who spend their lives exploring the Catacomb’s darkness. We call them cataphiles. They’re urban explorers with a love of the Catacombs.”

“What do they do when they get down there?”

“I’m told they party and create art.”

“Among the dead?” I asked.

Simon nodded. “Among the dead. Many of them have made maps that have further told us about the tunnels.”

Emily’s voice held excitement. “I would love to see those maps.”

Simon didn’t respond as he led us forward. I was thankful. The last thing she needed was a map of the tunnels.

“Maps would be good, but I would also be careful with the Catacombs. Things of this nature must have the utmost respect.” Simon paused and lowered his voice. “With so many dead down here and so much of the tunnels not mapped out, it makes you wonder about what else could be lurking down there too.”

My guard stirred.

“Okay.” I frowned. “We don’t need any extra details…or maps. Let’s stick to the regular tour.”

A dark chuckle left him as he moved along with that cane.

I squeezed her hand, leaned her way, and whispered, “Are you happy with my surprise?”

“This is the most romantic thing you’ve ever done.”

“Interesting. I’ve been getting roses and diamonds, but all I needed was a death tunnel and skulls.”

“It’s the little things.” She giggled and pulled me forward, more excited than I’d seen her in weeks.

Apparently, the tunnels extended many more miles under the city, but it was illegal to visit most areas. For how much I paid, we would have the Catacombs to ourselves for three hours along with Simon, our personal guide.

The guide led us into the darkness, gripping a flashlight in his hand. “More than six million people have been buried down here. What we will see today is a small part of the tunnel network.”

“Wow.” Emily quickened her pace and gazed around. “What made them start burying people under the city?”

“The city’s cemeteries were overflowing. They were so overstuffed, graves were crumbling open and exposing corpses.” Simon tapped his cane on the ground.

“It must’ve been horrific,” she said.

“Those living in the Les Halles neighborhood near Les Innocents, the city’s oldest and largest cemetery, were the first to complain about the strong smell of decomposing flesh.”

Emily laughed. “I shouldn’t laugh, but this is gruesome good.”

“The catacombs will do that to you.” Simon pushed on. “Later, a long period of rain caused a wall around Les Innocents cemetery to collapse.”

One of my guards shook his head as he carried his own flashlight and scanned the area. Surely, he wished we were doing regular brotherhood things—stabbing or torturing, shooting or running, anything but walking toward dead bodies under a city.

Simon continued with his story of the past. “Rotting corpses spilled out of the walls, slipping and sliding into neighborhoods.”

I spoke. “This is definitely not the history of Paris I’ve heard.”

“We’ve had our gory moments.” Simon directed his flashlight along the walls made of bone. “Paris is not all lights and beauty.”

“So, they moved the bodies from the cemetery?” I asked.

“Yes. There’d already been centuries-old tunnels that had existed beneath the streets of Paris since the 13th century, when people would mine limestone to build the city.” Simon treaded ahead of us. “It took them twelve years to transport the dead. After the French Revolution, the dead were buried right in the Catacombs.”

He took us deeper into the underground maze, spouting out interesting details here and there. It felt like a timeless journey.

“Have these tunnels ever been used for anything else besides burying bodies?” Emily asked.

“During World War II, the French Resistance used the tunnel system. Later, the Nazis established an underground bunker.”

“This would be a good position, if the countries at war,” I admitted.

“There have been others who have used the Catacombs. In 2004, the police found a fully equipped movie theater in one of the caverns. It had a giant cinema screen, audience seats, projection equipment, film reels of thrillers, a fully stocked bar, and restaurant.”

“Who did it?” Emily asked.

“No one knows.” Simon winked. “But it was someone with enough power and money to keep that fact hidden. The police reported a camera had been inside the space, recording them.”

“So, someone was watching the cops discover their area?” she asked.

“Yes. And there was a note left the next day.”

Curious, I wondered out loud, “What did it say?”