Dirty Minds: An Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

I had to keep moving. I couldn’t stop or sit. That was the only way to win. No moment could be wasted. No time could be spent dawdling. Anything and everything would be used. Animals to men. Guns to trucks. Hacking to knocking down his family member’s doors and stabbing them in their throats.

He would give Emily back to me.

And she would be safe and alive.

There could be no other option.

The world wasn’t ready for that.

My phone rang.

I pulled it out my pants and answered.

Misha spoke on the other line. “I’ve got the location. I’m sending it to everyone near you.”

In the jeep, phones simultaneously buzzed and beeped. Blue’s laptop pinged. Shocked, she pulled it open, looked around, and then gazed at the screen. “Someone sent me an address.”

This was the power of Misha. He had the ability to find a person in seconds and do what he wanted. He had more access to satellites than most governments. The internet was the future. It would be the new weapon in war. Already, it could be used to manipulate the public and even influence elections.

I gripped the phone hard. “Is this the location for the Devil and Jean-Pierre’s woman?”

“I think so. I’m tracking the codes. I don’t know if the Devil still has her. None of their phones are on.” Misha cleared his throat. “I was already tracking him. The Devil mentioned taking someone. I told him to return her. He threatened to switch buyers. I arrived in Paris yesterday to kill him.”

“How convenient?”

“I already told you, I thought I had it under control.”

“Find Jean-Pierre.”

“I’m on it.”

I hung up.

Pavel had the address on his phone too. In seconds, he gave the address to the driver.

Boris rushed to the jeep, before Pavel could close it.

I held my hands up for Pavel to wait. “Let’s see what he needs.”

Boris had dark brown skin. His hair was cut low. Tiny crosses covered his chin and neck. Young and huge. He was close to my height of 6’4.

Where’s Emily’s other lapdog.

I checked his right and left. “Where’s Yuri?”

Sadness shifted Boris’s serious expression. “Someone shot Yuri.”

“Who?”

“We don’t know. Zahkar and I were investigating, before you requested our presence.”

Someone killed my mouse’s man, Yuri? Who could it have been? Had he learned something important about the monkey head guy?

Upon Emily hiring her new recruits, Boris and Yuri had remained by her side. They barely left. A short guy, Yuri had reached 5’9. However, his width made up for it. He had huge arms and massive fists. He could have been a heavyweight boxer, if he hadn’t grown up so poor.

“Yuri’s death will have to wait.” I touched my forehead and tried to smooth down the throbbing at my temples. “For now, we’ll get my mouse back and get the fuck out of here.”

Boris bobbed his head. “Is there anything we can do?”

“You’re in charge of the men. Call in the troops. I want chaos.”

Boris exchanged glances with Pavel, as if unsure I hadn’t lost my mind.

“Do we have a problem?” I asked.

Boris straightened his expression. “I’m in charge of Emily’s men?”

“You’re in charge of everyone in Paris. I give you a location to fuck up, you make sure it’s destroyed. The whole time check for Emily. Never stop. You see any of our people resting, shoot him in the head, and send his body to his family.”

Although no fear ran in his eyes, Boris slowly inhaled and then exhaled, before speaking. “Do you have the first location?”

“Misha sent the address to everyone. Get back in the van. Everyone needs to head there. I don’t know what’s waiting there, or if the Devil has Jean-Pierre’s woman. Kill every guy that’s not us, but don’t hurt any females.”

Pavel pulled out his phone and gave those orders.

David nodded. “We can save the visit to grandma for later.”

I climbed into the jeep.

David followed and set his gun on his lap. “Today’s a nice day for killing Frenchies.”

“It sure is.” I gazed out of the window, hoping to God that Emily was safe.

Don’t hurt her, Jean-Pierre.

Chapter 2

Emily

How will I get back to Kaz?

A bed sheet wrapped around my body. I wore Jean-Pierre’s jacket too. It had been a nice gesture from him, but I would still kill him.

Jean-Pierre’s limo sped through the street. It stank of more perfume, and even sex. I didn’t know what he’d been doing in here earlier, but it definitely needed to be cleaned.

Several police cars flashed their lights and led the way.

The Butcher had complete control of Paris this morning. Kazimir had underestimated Jean-Pierre. Me too. Jean-Pierre definitely had more power over the Corsican, and even more over France, than Blue had discovered.

Thank God I took the time to read her file on them.

Blue found images of the men Jean-Pierre had killed. From first glance at the victims, one would think that he was hacking away at the bodies. They would have been so wrong. There was a sort of sing-song way he cut them.