Dirty Desires: Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

I want to be more than your friend, Ava.

I stopped pacing. “Okay. I will take that for now, but what you are saying is, we are not off?”

“I just need time to see, if I can be with you.”

I returned to pacing.

“Not that anything is wrong with you, Misha. I’m just. . .I’m just not built for the things that happened yesterday.”

“Not many are, but I don’t care about that. I handled it wrong. I should not have done it.”

I should’ve killed them later. Away from you.

I continued, “It was stupid. You will never see anything like that again.”

“You were protecting me.”

“And in the process, I scared the shit out of you.”

She sighed. “Let’s just take this day-by-day. I’ve also started looking for a new apartment—”

“No.”

“Misha, I should have my own place. Thank you for letting me stay here, but—”

“I don’t want you to move out.” I would have to get cameras at your new place. It would be annoying. And could you afford something so nice? I kept all those thoughts to myself and finished talking to her, “I put the place in your name. Whether you stay with me or not, it is yours?”

“That’s something we’ll talk about later.”

“It is not up for discussion.”

“Misha. . .please understand where I’m coming from.”

I gritted my teeth. “Okay. Fine. If you want to move out, then I will let you.”

Absolutely not.

“Thank you,” she said. “I have to grab lunch and do one more rehearsal before the performance.”

“If you feel unsafe or get another threat call me.”

“I’m not worried, Misha. If there’s one thing I learned yesterday, no one’s messing with you.”

I didn’t know, if I should take that as a compliment or be more worried.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow about the time of the dinner, Misha.”

“Okay.”

“Have a good day.”

My heart ached. “I will.”

She hung up.

I moved the phone from my ear and stared at it.

Ava had called. It had to be a good sign. I didn’t think I would hear from her for at least a few days. And then I thought she would tell me that she didn’t want to see me again. I still wasn’t sure what I would do, if that came up.

I’d told her forever, and I’d meant it.

I dialed Naveen.

He answered. “Misha.”

I had no time for pleasantries. “Where are the codes?”

“Paris.”

My heart dropped. My shoulders had been relaxed. Now tension rose in them. Kazimir was in Paris. This situation was getting too close to him to be good.

I clenched my teeth. “Why are they in Paris? They were supposed to be in Canada.”

“The woman took them there. The Devil is chasing after her.”

“What woman?”

“We have no idea. She’s Chinese. I have an image of her, getting on the plane from Toronto.”

“Wait a minute. What the fuck is going on?”

“Okay. The codes were mailed to the address in Belladonna. Where the man and his cat was murdered. She must’ve grabbed them before the Devil showed up. The Devil has her name. It’s Shalimar—”

“I don’t give a fuck that he got her name! We have too many innocent deaths. Who were the women he killed in that other apartment?”

“They were related to Shalimar, but I don’t think they had anything to do with it.” Naveen’s voice came out shaky which was good. He should’ve been scared. I considered him my brother, but anymore fuck ups and he might see Fuego’s fate. “The woman is running from us.”

“Clearly, probably because the Devil is killing everyone.”

“Don’t worry, Misha. I plan to kill him myself. I’m meeting him in Paris.”

I shook my head, not liking what I had to do. “I’ll have to come to. I’ve let this get out of hand for too long. Where is he?”

“The Devil’s heading to Paris. He’ll land by late this evening.”

“I will be there to meet him.”

Fuck!

“When will you arrive?” Naveen asked. “Maybe we can leave together.”

“No. I have a performance to go to. After that I am taking my plane. I will let you know when I get there.”

“This guy’s a nasty one. I would bring some men.”

“Oh, do not worry. My top men will be with me. Until then, keep me updated.” I hung up and yelled, “Fuck!”

It appeared we would all be in Paris this weekend. I’d hoped to be with Ava. Hopefully, I could. Tomorrow, she would be taking her grandmother around St. Petersburg. That gave me time to grab the codes, kill the Devil, and return for dinner.

The doorbell rang.

I looked up, not used to hearing it.

My bedroom door opened.

Maxwell hurried in with a towel wrapped around his waist and a stocking cap on his head. “Was that your doorbell?”

“Yes.” I eyed his head. “Why are you wearing that?”

“It’s to keep my waves.”

“Not for a wig?”

“What? No, man.” He closed the door.

I held out my hands. “What are you doing?”