Jean-Pierre growled. “Who the hell is Ava? Eden is no one’s grandmother.”
“I’m sorry. He’s drunk.” I went back to the phone. “It’s not Ava’s grandmother. We’re talking about Eden.”
Maxwell sounded out of it. “Wait. So then…the person is named Eden?”
“Yes. Yes.”
“Wait, so Misha’s dumbass done got someone else kidnapped too?”
“I guess.”
“Wait.” Maxwell laughed. “I can’t right now. I mean basically you’re saying that—”
“Misha kidnapped someone else.” My patience left me. “Did you happen to hear the part about the Corsican kidnapping me?!”
“Oh shit! And you’re kidnapped too? So it’s like three women now?”
I don’t even know what you’re talking about.
I sighed. “Yes.”
“Fuck. I’m sobering up, Em. What’s the chick’s name again?”
“Eden!”
“Do they have a picture? I can’t keep up with everyone getting kidnapped.”
I turned back to Jean-Pierre. “Maxwell needs a picture.”
“I’ll send one.” Jean-Pierre took the phone and spoke into it. “Make sure Misha contacts me. And hurry up, Maxwell.”
Damn it. I wasn’t done talking to him.
Jean-Pierre hung up the phone and studied me. “Why is your brother working for Misha?”
“He’s not working for Misha,” I said. “He’s only hanging out in St. Petersburg.”
Rafael tilted his head to the side. “Are they lovers?”
“What?” I quirked my eyebrows. “No.”
“How did your brother and you get involved with Kazimir?”
Keep as much information to myself. Answer, but don’t say too much.
I swallowed. “It was due to my other brother, Daryl.”
Rafael leaned back in his seat. “Is Daryl the Mouse?”
I see you don’t know shit. You sure you should’ve done this?
I tapped my leg. “No.”
“Where is your brother Daryl?” Jean-Pierre asked.
“He’s dead.”
Jean-Pierre raised his eyebrows. “Who killed him?”
“Misha.”
Rafael chimed in. “You’re okay with that?”
“Life happens.”
It was all just enough to seem like I was obeying them. They didn’t need to know too much. Information was always important.
Jean-Pierre sighed. “Is Maxwell the Mouse?”
I widened my eyes. “No.”
“Who is it?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s important.”
Jean-Pierre’s voice held an edge. “I say what is important.”
I changed the topic. “Why did Misha’s men take Eden?”
“That’s the answer I would like to know.”
I shook my head again. “How did they get her?”
“Tracked her.”
“With what?”
Jean-Pierre’s phone rang. He answered but didn’t say hello. “Do you have Eden’s location?”
Is that Maxwell?
Jean-Pierre frowned. “Call me when you have a location.”
Jean-Pierre hung up.
Yes. That was Maxwell. Thank God. Now, call Kazimir, Maxwell. Get together. We can end this soon.
Silence filled the limo.
“Nothing will be the same after this.” Rafael let out a long breath and closed his eyes. “Not France or Russia.”
You’re damn right about that.
What would happen to us all? Could any of this be fixed? And most important, would I ever see Kazimir again?
Epilogue
Kazimir
With just a jacket on and nothing else, I rode in the helicopter, gazing out at the city below.
Where are you, mysh? Please…be careful. I’m coming. Don’t try anything.
French blood dried on my skin. I expected to be covered in more by this evening.
The helicopter landed right in front of Pavel and Emily’s men. They’d been loading into vans. We’d gotten there right on time.
Smart, they got alert, stopped filling the vans, and turned in the direction of the helicopter. A few even had their guns out.
I got out as soon as the damn thing hit the ground.
Surely, Emily’s men hadn’t expected the lion to land right before them in a helicopter, wielding a rocket launcher, and barking out orders with his cock out.
But that was what occurred.
The Butcher had kidnapped Emily—my mouse. My everything. The mother of my child,. Whether she was pregnant or not, she would be. I had to get her back. I had to make sure she was safe.
Barefoot, I stomped forward and stopped in front of Pavel.
His mouth hung open. “What the hell, Kazimir?”
I handed him the rocket launcher. “They took Emily. Jean-Pierre and his cousins.”
Pavel switched from shocked to all-business. “We’ll wake up everyone in Paris and start the search—”
“First, get someone in St. Petersburg to take Misha a phone, and then put me on the line. I don’t give a damn if he’s deep inside that ballerina’s pussy. They can shoot him if they have to. They can shoot her too.”
Pavel widened his eyes. “All right. What else?”
“Get Misha on the phone in less than five minutes. No more of his bullshit!” I roared and scanned my mouse’s hooligans. “Everybody needs to be out in these streets today, fucking it up and looking for her! Destroy this fucking city if you have to. Get some pictures of her. Show them to everyone. Any friends of the brotherhood in Paris and France, make them aware. Call them!”
“They brought more guns.” Pavel gestured to Emily’s second.
Boris stepped forward. “We’ll find her.”
A short woman with blue hair came forward. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she held a laptop in her hand, doing her best to not gaze down at my cock. “I could stay by your side. Anything you need hacked into, I got it. I’m good with tracking. If they call you, I may be able to lock their location in.”