Dirty Hearts: Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

Please, don’t hurt her. Please, don’t touch her. Take me. Kill me.

Dread ached beneath my ribs.

There was a dull ache beneath her ribs.

Anger flashed through me hot and hard, making me grit my teeth. The thought of another man touching or injuring Emily had me wanting to reach for my gun. Still, I hadn’t moved. I was inside Emily. She would be at risk. Somehow, I had to protect us.

I couldn’t move.

Never had I been caught this much off guard. When was the last time someone had put a gun to my head? When was the last time someone had snuck up on me so unexpected?

Rage rode my tensing muscles. It didn’t matter who it was or what they wanted; I would kill them. They would never live, never breathe, never celebrate their victory over me.

Smart, Emily slowly lowered, letting my cock leave her and separating us. Whoever was in here, they didn’t notice.

The bedroom light came on.

The gun remained against my head.

The gun-toter was lucky there were things bigger happening tonight, things more important than the lion’s reputation. My mouse could be pregnant.

Had Emily not been here, I would’ve risked my death, turned around, and tried to disarm him. But Emily was too close. I couldn’t have them do something to her. I couldn’t live through it. I would never survive it. I had to keep her safe, even if I died in the process. My child possibly grew within her.

Emily lowered again.

Not yet, mysh.

Her hand was under the pillow, probably reaching for her gun, when the other guy spoke.

“Leave her. We need to talk.”

Where did they come from? Are all my men dead?

From the second statement, I recognized his voice.

Goddamn it. I should’ve killed Jean-Pierre in the bathhouse.

I slowly moved away, but kept myself between Emily and him, guarding her. I slipped the sheets over her. A man like Jean-Pierre should not get to see her naked. No one should.

He’s seen enough. He’ll be dead soon. Come closer, Jean-Pierre. Have you ever flown off a balcony?

Turning around, I scanned the room.

The French crowded the space.

The funny one—the one who’d been naked in the bathhouse, Rafael, walked over to the bed with his gun pointed at Emily’s head. “Sweetheart, could you do me a favor and stop reaching for the gun under your pillow?”

Don’t reach, mysh. They’re idiots.

Emily moved her hand and froze.

Still pointing the gun at her, he winked. “Thanks, sweetie. By the way, my name is Rafael, if you ever want—”

“You don’t talk to her.” I glared at him. “You only talk to me.”

“That’s all the thanks I get, lion?” Rafael grabbed the gun from the pillow and tossed it to another man. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have gotten to come.”

What the hell is he talking about?

I kept my focus on Rafael, but I was talking to his idiot cousin, Jean-Pierre. “What do you want?”

“Eden was kidnapped tonight by your men,” Jean-Pierre said on the side.

What the hell is wrong with this idiot? Is he on drugs?

“My men didn’t kidnap anyone tonight.” I turned my attention to Jean-Pierre. “And who the fuck is Eden?!”

“Get Misha on the phone. His people tracked Eden. He’ll have her.”

“Misha wouldn’t have anyone tracking anybody without letting me know.”

“He’s using the Devil.”

“Haven’t heard of him either,” I growled. “Are you noticing a theme? I’m above all of them. Like I’m above you. Do you think this is wise, Jean-Pierre? Have you really thought this through?”

“I’m done with the games.”

Jean-Pierre had the gun pointed at my head. It didn’t matter. The only people I wanted to survive in this room was my mouse and our child inside her. I just needed to get the focus back on me.

I turned back to Rafael. He continued to point his gun at Emily’s head. It terrified me, and there was only so long Emily would allow it before she acted. With this crew, I didn’t want them to be more erratic.

Rafael stirred a little as I watched him. It gave me hope.

At least someone knows this is stupid. What’s wrong with your cousin, Rafael? Is Jean-Pierre insane? Did the voices tell him to do this?

Whatever addiction Jean-Pierre had, I would end it along with his heartbeat and those of anyone he loved. The French had finally got on my radar. They’d now become top priority over everything.

You wanted my attention, Jean-Pierre. Now you’ve got it.

Jean-Pierre gestured for Rafael to come to him.

I continued to watch Rafael.

That’s right. I’m going to kill you too.

With Rafael and Jean-Pierre further away from Emily, I calmed for the first time. I slid a few inches forward, putting me further between the idiots and my mouse.

So what now? You have me naked. What was your plan?

I didn’t know what drugs Jean-Pierre was on, but it was something. His eyes looked red like he was exhausted or had been crying. But his actions said there had to be something chemical in his system.