Dirty Desires: Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

I headed to the back.

To my surprise, he didn’t follow.

I stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned to him. “Misha. . .”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry, but. . .”

“Ask me anything.”

“Could you come with me?”

He raised his eyebrows and headed my way. “Yes. I can.”

Misha scared me. I didn’t know what I would do after this. He was a killer. That was for sure. There was no way around it. Although he had a successful company, he also dealt in crime. He was right up there with his cousin.

What he’d done today, he did for me. Even more, he’d saved other girls from dealing with being raped by creepy men. As he said, they were monsters.

Misha still terrified me though.

But in the end, I couldn’t be alone. And I didn’t want to be without him. It was hard to make sense of that feeling. There was blood on his shirt, and still, I felt safe with him.

I finished the glass, wishing I’d grabbed the bottle from grandma.

What the fuck am I going to do now?

Chapter 20

Misha

Why did I do it? I could’ve waited until tonight.

Ava had practice later. She would’ve also been busy during the performance.

But rage had overtaken me.

When she confessed that Akiva was auctioning her pussy to the highest bidder, there was no logic that came. Blinding rage coursed through my veins. I yearned to see blood. Had Ava not screamed my name outside, I would’ve killed Akiva too.

She barely saved him.

When Akiva called me, he knew it to be true. His voice had been unsteady. He kept stuttering his words.

Good. Now you know. Now you all know. I am not fucking around, when it comes to Ava!

And of course the theater took the night off. They had three major oligarch families to deal with. And those families would want revenge. It wouldn’t be a question of if they would move against the Bratva, it was more a matter of when.

It won’t be fast. They’re too slow for my world.

They would think it through. First they had to save face in the public. Hide those secrets. They would have to come up with some explanation for the men’s death that had nothing to do with the theater or me. Next, they would have to hire out. Although those families boasted the sickest monsters, they were no killers. Their men only prayed on what they assumed was the weak and poor.

Little ballerinas. Young girls. How could they sell them off like that? And how in the hell did Akiva think he would be safe, if he sold Ava? He was crazier than me.

Surely, Akiva didn’t know much about the way of guns. He probably thought I didn’t care too much for Ava. At least not to get in the oligarchs way. Many thought those families of old money reaching back from the Russian Royal crown, were powerful.

They weren’t.

What was money, next to Kazimir’s babies and my satellites. I’ll fucking turn all the electricity and Wi-Fi off in this whole country.

Imports and exports would stop. Everything would go back to the middle ages. And I wouldn’t even have to pick up a gun. But if they came my way with one, then Kazimir and I would deal with them.

My cousin might be annoyed with me, but he would have my back, as I always had his.

The oligarchs would not be a problem this year, just an irritation. Blood would spill all over St. Petersburg. But it always did in this city for one reason or another.

My biggest dilemma stood in front of me.

Will she leave me now?

Ava placed her empty glass on the table. Hopefully, the whiskey was working. She looked more than shaken. I was glad the theater canceled the performance. There was no way she could dance.

She stared at me.

I stirred, wishing I could think of something to do—sit down, walk around, anything, but be under terrified gaze.

Did she think I was just as much a monster as the men, I’d killed?

For the past couple of days, I’d been hiding who I was from her. By no fault of my own, I accidentally kidnapped her grandmother. Thankfully, Jacqueline had given me a way out. And still, I couldn’t behave. I showed my cards to her myself.

But how could I not? There was no way I could’ve controlled myself.

She turned her attention to my shirt. “You still have blood on the cuffs.”

“I’m sorry.” Embarrassed, I placed my hands behind my back. I thought I cleaned enough of the blood away. How disgusting I must’ve been to her?

She’s going to run. She’s going to end it. What will I do?

Already I could feel the icy shards of loneliness slicing away at my heart. There would be no stopping her, if she wanted to walk away. It would only scare her more, if I forced us. Then, I would be no better than those slimy men, greedily waiting to fuck her.