Dirty Minds: An Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

No one lowered their guns, but everyone stopped shooting.

Waving smoke away, I walked forward and scanned the space.

A woman sat on the floor, wearing a torn sequenced gown. She had a caramel complexion. From some sort of interracial courtship, although I couldn’t guess what her parents must’ve been.

She looked a mess. Yellow stains spotted the front of the gown. She smelled like piss and sweat. Hair toppled and all over the place. Dirt smudged her face. On one side of her face, three long gashes sliced her cheeks.

Is this what Jean-Pierre has been obsessed with all these years? This is the woman you start a war for?

The tiny, dirty woman held something in her arm. Apparently it was invisible, she kept stroking the air and looking down at it.

“Hey?!” The masked man kept his hands in the air. “I work for Misha. Call him up. He’ll explain everything.”

The guy grabbed my attention.

Pavel and David moved to the side, and let me walk to the clear masked man.

I stopped in front of him, giving us no space. A closer look didn’t help the matter. I now understood why he wore the clear mask. There only appeared to be raw and chewed-up skin underneath it.

What a disgusting face.

“Are you the man they call the Devil?” I asked.

He inched back. Spit bubbled on his scarred lip. “Yes.”

I gestured to the dirty woman on the floor. “And that is Eden?”

She stopped stroking the air and bobbed her head. “Y-yes, I’m Eden.”

The Devil nervously turned her way. “Uh, yes. But as I explained to Misha. The girl is linked to an old enemy that I—”

“Be quiet.” I placed my hands in my pockets , walked around the room, and gestured to his dead men. “Where are the codes?”

“They’re in my pocket.” The Devil still had not lowered his hands. “Celina has the other part. The sister unit.”

Celina lied to you. She has nothing. The sister unit is in Moscow.

“Give them to my men.” I walked further into the house, scanned the area, and stopped in front of a dead woman that had been tied to a chair. One of her arms lay on the floor next to her cut-off foot. Both had been placed in a neat line.

What the Devil had done to her had been sickening. He hacked off her arm, and mutilated different parts of her body.

What type of man would do this?

The dead woman’s head drooped forward. It was still attached to her body, but barely. Her chin rested on her chest, which did not rise or fall.

Leaning forward, I tilted my head to the side and studied the dead woman’s arm. “You used a saw on a woman?”

“I…well, Misha said that…I should get the codes back…at all costs.” The Devil glanced around the room, as if looking for help, but all of his men had either been shot dead or were currently being dragged out the back of the house by David and Pavel.

Shots sounded next.

Everyone involved in this situation would have to die. The Devil’s kidnapping of Jean-Pierre’s lady had affected me. No one could live. Not the Devil. Not even Jean-Pierre. And anyone that helped in any way , they would drown in their own blood.

When you get Eden back, and you’ve given my mouse to me. . .cherish those last days, Jean-Pierre. Soon. . .I will kill you.

I turned to the Devil. “What’s your connection to Jean-Pierre?”

“H-he did this to my face.”

Interesting.

I inched closer, to study the damage peeking out from under the mask. “But he didn’t kill you?”

“No.”

I frowned. “I would have definitely killed you.”

Silence bridged between us.

I shrugged. “But then, that’s why they call me the Lion, and Jean-Pierre the butcher.”

I directed my attention back to the woman who had started it all. “I’m Kazimir. You’re coming with me right now.”

Shaking, she rose and lifted the invisible thing in the air. “Okay.”

I stared at her empty arm as she stroked and shushed it.

What’s going on?

I scowled at the Devil. “What is she doing? Did you give her something?”

“One of the men did. Not me.” The Devil’s voice came out shaky. “I killed the guy when I found out he did it. I’ve done my best to keep her safe and fed—”

“She smells like shit. Her face is scarred.” I spat out the words. “And she looks deranged, like she hasn’t slept, or eaten in years. Now I don’t know much about Jean-Pierre’s taste in women, but I bet he wouldn’t lay with one that smelled this bad. He’s big on perfume.”

The Devil went silent.

Jesus. There are no rules to this world anymore. How is he treating you, mouse? Is he being a monster like this one?

David walked up to me. “What do you want?”

“Kill everyone accept the idiot with the mask and the smelly woman. She’s the key to getting Emily back. And this Devil may one day be the trap to get Jean-Pierre later.”