Dirty Hearts: Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

Several police cars flashed their lights and led the way.

The Butcher had complete control of Paris this morning. Kazimir had underestimated this man. He had more power than Blue had reported in the file.

How am I going to get away from them?

Meanwhile, Jean-Pierre sat on my right. Rafael was across me with other men. The whole time, Rafael watched me with anger in his eyes.

I turned back to Jean-Pierre—the Butcher. On my side, he tapped the bud in his ear. “Yes. I’m fine.”

He must still be talking to Louis.

I was glad I’d read Blue’s report on them. It had been the best timing of my life. The more information I knew about them, the more I could find a way to escape.

Jean-Pierre pressed the bud in his ear. “Yeah. We’re a block away in the limo, heading to Shalimar’s.”

Who’s Shalimar?

Rafael spoke up, “Tell him the restaurant, not the woman.”

Jean-Pierre scrunched his face in confusion. “What? We’re going to the woman not the restaurant.”

The restaurant or the woman? What the fuck are they talking about?

Rafael frowned. “Giorgio wants steak-frites—”

“Eden is gone.” Jean-Pierre glared. “I don’t give a fuck what Giorgio wants—”

“When’s the last time you ate?” Rafael asked.

Jean-Pierre shook his head. “I’m not hungry—”

“I’m overriding you. Let’s get some food and regroup.”

“We don’t need to regroup.”

Rage blazed in Rafael’s eyes as his voice rose. “We do, because we fucking kidnapped the Lion’s chick!”

I gulped in fear.

Just when I thought Jean-Pierre and Rafael were going to fight in the limo, he touched the earbud and calmly said, “Louis, we’ll meet at the restaurant. Giorgio’s hungry and Rafael wants to…regroup.” I didn’t know what Louis’s response was, but Jean-Pierre rolled his eyes. “I figured Kazimir would bring all his people out here.”

Kaz is getting the Bratva in Paris? Good. Protect yourself. I’ll sneak away.

“No,” Jean-Pierre said. “Don’t kill his men. They could help find Eden. Do you have an eye on Kazimir?”

I turned his way.

Where is he?

Jean-Pierre frowned. “I thought we killed the guards. Fine.”

The conversation must’ve ended.

Jean-Pierre took the ear bud out of his ear and turned toward the window.

The sun hovered over Paris.

What is he thinking now?

I twisted the sheet in my lap, trying to calm myself.

Jean-Pierre took out his phone and tossed it to me. “Call your brother.”

Yes. Thank God.

I picked up the phone with shaking hands, turned it on, dialed, and waited.

Maxwell, you better answer! Please. I need you.

When Maxwell picked up, I let out the longest breath in my life.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Loud music sounded on the other line. I had no idea where he was. It had to have been a party. Feminine giggling came next.

“Shell-o?” Maxwell stuttered. From the word and tone, I knew he was drunk.

Shit.

“What does my Em need?” Maxwell chuckled. “Are you missing daddy?”

Jesus Christ. How much did you drink?

“Maxwell, are you with Misha?” I asked.

“Hells yeah!” Maxwell yelled over the music. “I’m in Paris. I heard you were here too. Misha is scared. I told him it’ll be fine.”

What was he doing here?

Maxwell continued. “We’re in the motherfucker strip club, making it rain. Well, they don’t really make it rain here.”

“What? Strip club?”

“We’re giving them cases of money. Dollars. Naw. What we giving them? Yeah. Yeah. We franc’ed up. Two-hundred-kay. Something light on these chicks. Heard you were here, so—”

“Go outside.”

“What? Come on.” Maxwell laughed. “Go outside? Away from the naked women? Is it an emergency?”

“Yes!”

Maxwell’s voice lost its humor. “Are you serious?”

“I’m serious!” I stared back at the French in the car.

“Okay.” Maxwell’s voice turned serious. “Give me a minute.”

Music blasted on the other line.

My heart boomed with the song’s rapid beat.

Jean-Pierre and Rafael watched me the entire time. I hoped they wouldn’t take the phone from me.

Hurry, Maxwell.

Rafael leaned Jean-Pierre’s way. “What if she’s calling someone to have us tracked?”

Jean-Pierre glared at me. “It doesn’t matter if Kazimir knows where she is or not. He won’t get her back until I say so.”

My bottom lip quivered.

On the other end of the phone, the music left which told me Maxwell had, in fact, gone outside the strip club.

“Em? What’s up? Can you hear me?”

“Yes. I can hear you now.”

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“No.”

“Shit. I’ve got you.”

“Good.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Listen. The Corsican kidnapped me—”

“Get to Eden!” Jean-Pierre growled.

My hand shook. “I…I need you to get Misha to locate Eden. His people might’ve kidnapped her.”

“Oh wait. I know what you’re talking about. She’s not kidnapped anymore.”

Confusion hit me. “What?”

“You’re talking about Ava’s grandma, right?”

“No.” I shook my head, although he couldn’t see me. “She’s not somebody’s grandmother.”

“She’s Ava’s grandma. We’re talking about a kidnapping right?”

Goddamn it.

“Maxwell, it’s not someone’s grandmother, okay?”

“Listen. Just check with those dudes, man.” Drunk Maxwell was the most annoying person to deal with. “Just ask them. We can finish this really quick.”

“I’ll ask.” I looked at Jean-Pierre. “Is Eden the name of Ava’s grandmother?”