Dirty Hearts: Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

Kazimir? Is that you?

I raised my view but couldn’t tell.

Military guards marched toward the hotel.

No. Don’t get hurt, Kazimir. We’ll figure this out.

I shook Jean-Pierre’s arm. “Call them off.”

“I’ll help,” I begged. “I’ll do anything to get her back for you. Just make sure they don’t hurt Kazimir. Let him go.”

He said nothing.

A limo pulled up.

Rafael opened the door.

Jean-Pierre shoved me in.

Fuck. How am I getting away from them?

Chapter 20

Kazimir

With Emily no longer in the bedroom, I had no one to keep safe. They wouldn’t shoot me. Jean-Pierre needed me alive to get his flute player. I didn’t know how Misha was involved, but my cousin would pay for this.

They will all pay for this!

Meanwhile, six men kept me on the ground. I was on my back. I strained against them. “How long do you think you have to keep me down?”

No one answered.

They had my arm and legs trapped to the floor. But no one had held down my head or neck. I slammed my head into the man in front of me. He fell back. For the one holding my arm, I bit his nose, snatched off the tip, and spit it back in his face.

He screamed.

His blood dripped down my chin.

The other one closest to my mouth moved away.

With two men off me, I seized the opportunity and grabbed another in his crotch, squeezing and biting my nails into the little meat. He screamed. The others tried to move my hand but someone let my arm ago, and that was the end. I slammed one into the other, smashing their faces into each other over and over and doing my best to kill them. Blood splattered. Bruises bloomed on their faces They fell to the ground.

The other two came for me, getting in some sort of grappling stance.

“Oh, you think we’re going to fight?”

I lunged forward. They backed away.

I roared and grabbed them both. We wrestled, smashing into the balcony glass and grappling among shattered pieces outside. A minute later, they flew like eagles in the sky right as the sun layered it with light.

Another minute, I took one’s gun and shot the rest. One in the chest. Another in the gut. Even though another was groaning on the ground, I put a bullet in his head. No one could survive after this. All would have to die.

Where are you, Butcher?

I gazed down at the gun in my hand.

This won’t be enough. Fuck. I need to hurry.

Emily had to still be in the building. They couldn’t have left yet. I had no idea who was alive or not. Hopefully, Pavel was at the airport with Emily’s men.

Thank God I had a change of heart. Now, I need their help. She should’ve been here! I’ll never take her away from her men again.

My heart boomed in my ears.

I need something bigger. Where did I put the rocket launcher?

I ran to the other side of the bedroom, jumping over dead bodies.

“Here we go.” I dove under my bed. Sasha used to say I was crazy for taking rocket launchers while I traveled. However, I found a rocket launcher to be as important as a toothbrush. I never left home without it.

I dragged the heavy thing out and found one of Emily’s knives. My arms and legs ached. The men had given me a hard time, even though they probably weren’t supposed to hurt me.

There we go.

I gripped the huge weapon in my hands. The rocket launcher slowed me down, but I hurried forward anyway.

Where are you, mysh?

In the hallway, all my top men lay dead on the floor. Rage spiraled inside me. More of my dead men scattered the living room. I opened the door to the suite and even more dead lay right in front the door.

They killed everyone. It’s just me.

The elevator dinged as it shut.

I glanced down the hallway. “Mysh?”

Some of Jean-Pierre’s men stood in front of the elevator. I set the rocket launcher down on the floor. If I shot it, a rocket could affect the elevator. I was sure Emily was on it. I couldn’t put her in harm’s way as I tried to free her.

Stupidly, the French men appeared to relax when they saw me drop the rocket launcher.

I raced their way and shot a knife at one. It was a perfect throw; the blade severed his neck. I wanted to spend more time cutting him, but Emily was gone. Time was of the essence. I could take my time killing all the Corsican later.

I took the other’s gun and shot him. Another came for me, but they were low levels. The stupid ones left to die.

They were dead within seconds.

Still, sorrow and terror filled me.

They were on the elevator. They had to be. I’ll have to take the stairs. How will I beat them down there?