Dirty Desires: Interracial Russian Mafia Romance - Page 53

Mrs. Carson smiled at me. “Mikhail, I can take you to Ava’s dressing room now.”

I nodded and rose.

Jacqueline followed.

Mrs. Carson turned to her. “You must be Ava’s grandmother?”

Jacqueline beamed. “Yes. I am. That’s my granddaughter.”

Mrs. Carson nodded. “You must be very proud.”

“More than you can comprehend.”

Mrs. Carson guided us back.

My phone rang.

I shut it off, not caring who it was. It could’ve been Naveen about the nukes or Kazimir pissed that I hadn’t come to his ridiculous party. Even Rolan could’ve been calling about my father’s missing body. None of it mattered. All I cared about was Ava.

Finally, I’ll be with her.

We walked through the craziness of the theater’s backstage. People laughed and talked. Many poured champagne and giggled. The whole time Jacqueline drank it all in with excitement.

It took us several minutes to get to Ava’s dressing room

But to my shock, when Mrs. Carson opened the door, the artistic director Akiva stood in there. Barely a foot lay between him and Ava. I kept myself calm. Surely, the artistic director would want to congratulate his new prima ballerina. She’d surely stole everyone’s hearts. Akiva’s heart had to be right in her hand too.

I just hoped he understood that admiration was all he could have for her.

“Aww.” Akiva backed up, when he saw me enter. “I just wanted to tell Ava about how amazing she—”

“Grandma?” Ava rushed over to Jacqueline and held her.

Tears spilled from both of their faces. Hushed whispers came next.

I inched back to give them their time and noticed the crystal vase on the vanity table.

Who gave her that?

Akiva remained there, watching the two women. After a few seconds, he leaned my way and asked, “Who is that?”

“Her grandmother.” I turned to him and gestured to the vase. “Who gave her the flowers?”

Appearing uncomfortable, he adjusted his tie. “I have no idea, but you must understand that there will be other admirers.”

I could smell the lie coming from him. I had tried to get flowers into her dressing room before. With all my power and threats, the most I could do was have them delivered to the stage. If it wasn’t Akiva who gave the roses to her, then it was someone else in the theater’s management department. And if it was him, and he lied, then his intentions weren’t innocent at all.

“I should go, Ava.” Akiva waved goodbye to her. “I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch.”

Lunch?

Ava leaned away from her grandmother’s hold and smiled at him through teary eyes. “Okay, Akiva. Thanks again for all the advice.”

Advice?

Ava and Jacqueline returned to their rushed conversation and giggling.

What do you mean. . .lunch?

I followed Akiva outside and closed the door behind me. “Excuse me. Let’s talk, before you go.”

He turned around. A worried expression covered his face. “Yes, Mikhail?”

“I remember, when you used to dance. It was amazing to witness.”

Akiva beamed. “I remember too. Those were some amazing days.”

“You had many fans, especially women.”

He grinned. “There’s something about danseurs that women can’t avoid.”

“My cousin Katerina was a super fan.”

The joyful expression shifted to a frown.

“Too bad her husband was not a fan.” I stepped closer to him. “It wasn’t fair what he did to your knee. But that is all in the past now.”

His frown deepened. “It is.”

“Let’s make sure who you choose to romance now, won’t have someone around to cause you other physical problems.” I smiled. “I like what you’ve done with this season. I want to see you walking around normally.”

Akiva stood his ground and didn’t back away. “Don’t worry, Mikhail. I plan to do a lot this season, and I’m not worried about it at all.”

I leaned his way. “Good. Then, we’ll see.”

Akiva walked off without saying goodbye.

You slimy basterd. You’re the one that gave her the roses. I’ll break every fucking finger that picked them.

Years ago, Akiva had slept with my cousin, Katerina knowing that she belonged to one of the top Bratva members in St. Petersburg. All knew. But Akiva had a reputation for putting his dick where he shouldn’t. Perhaps, he had some sort of sexual addiction that allowed him to risk death.

It didn’t matter. Akiva had the talent, he just loved to fuck more. And it had ruined his life.

Katerina’s husband was my cousin Grigor. He had walked in on Akiva who had been balls deep in Katerina. The only reason why Grigor hadn’t completely killed the man was due to my mother. Mother felt guilty, since she was the one to introduce Katerina to ballet.

Grigor let Akiva live, knowing that ruining his career would destroy him.

Perhaps, Akiva’s loss of his dance career caused him to be a more reckless sexual addict. There were countless reports of him fucking many of the ballerinas in this company. It was looked down on, but still Akiva did it. Several past ballerinas had raised sexual assault allegations against the theater. The company had paid the ballerinas off and dismissed them, making the women and even two men sign non-disclosure agreements.

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