Dirty Minds: An Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

Breathe. It’s ok. I’m not tied up. It’s okay.

But I was still trapped, no matter how I tried to be positive about it. All my life I’d been trying not to be caged—whether by the government or some man. And here I was, kidnapped in a way that I couldn’t deal with. There was no getting away from these men. No matter how much I fought or tried to outthink them.

Don’t give up. It’ll work out.

For some reason, Gwen raced ahead of us.

We waited for a while as she disappeared into the building.

Is this where she lives? Must be. Why are we here?

I glanced over my shoulder. Rafael carried the dead body in his arms. He stopped behind the limo and whispered to it. Long strands of black hair dangled beyond the sheets. It had to be a woman. I figured as much. They’d been talking about some woman named Shalimar. Perhaps, she’d died.

Who did it? Kaz wouldn’t have.

Jean-Pierre walked over to Rafael.

Louis pushed me forward. “Go that way.”

I took my time walking forward. Guards surrounded and followed my every step.

After a minute, we stopped in front of the buildings front door.

Cracked paint covered it.

We waited for another minute.

Jean-Pierre and Rafael appeared.

Rafael no longer held the dead body. “Come on.”

His eyes shifted to sad. For the first time that day, I missed his cockiness.

I directed my attention to where we were going.

With the guards in front of me, I entered the brick building. It was cleaner than the projects in New York, but there was no hiding the poverty. A homeless man slept in the corner near a few broken metal mailboxes. Another metal stack of mailboxes sat on the other wall.

The elevator stood in front of us.

It screeched down. The door opened painstakingly slow, scraping metal across the bottom.

Do we really have to go on this thing? Why not the stairs?

It looked too small to fit us. Rust coated the edges of the walls. The ceiling had a light that flickered when the doors closed.

We got on.

Some of the guys pressed against the walls. Even worse, they sandwiched me in between Louis and Jean-Pierre. Their muscular arms smoothed against mine.

Can I get some breathing room?

I swallowed and glanced over my shoulder. Rafael stood behind me staring off in the distance.

What happened to the dead body? Was it Shalimar?

My other three guards got in.

I inched back.

The space closed in on us as the doors scraped shut. My anxiety spiked. Maybe it was because I killed Jean-Pierre’s men.

Would he want revenge?

I hadn’t eaten either or slept. My bottom lip quivered. My heart hammered.

The elevator still hadn’t moved.

I don’t want to be in here. What if we get trapped? With this fucking day. . .

My head went a little dizzy.

A bell rang.

I jumped.

And then the elevator slowly rose. Every inch, I swore the ceiling creaked, and the cables above us groaned.

Rafael spoke from behind, “This is no way to live life, and how long do you think it took her to get to Shalimar’s every day?”

Is he talking about Gwen?

Jean-Pierre said on my side, “She probably spends an hour commuting in and an hour going back out. This isn’t close to the transit.”

Yeah. They’re talking about Gwen.

Rafael sighed. “What type of car does she drive, Louis?”

Louis said on my left, “Nothing you would like.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Rafael.

He ran his fingers through his hair. “This has to change.”

They care about Gwen? Who is the black woman to them?

Louis stopped my thoughts. “I can put Gwen in my building.”

“No,” Rafael said. “I’ll take care of it. I’m moving the restaurant location anyway…changing the theme…I’ll move Gwen closer to wherever that is. Either way, she can’t live here. I’ll tell her when we get inside.”

That made me calm down a bit. They cared. Had compassion for others . And the fact that she was a black woman made me feel even better.

I glanced back at Rafael again.

Jean-Pierre whispered, “Stop looking at him.”

Well, excuse me.

I directed my view back to the front.

Jean-Pierre spoke to Rafael. “Yes. I think changing the location of the restaurant is a good idea. Get anything from me that you need, whether for the restaurant or Gwen.”

The elevator screeched to a stop.

Thank God.

Yet, the elevator remained there for several long seconds. Just when I was about to scream, the doors creaked open.

We all rushed off. I didn’t think anyone appreciated the tight ride.

“Jesus Christ,” Rafael grumbled. “Was that elevator even running on electricity, or were there two men on the roof lifting it up on a crane.”

Now that’s funny. Okay. Maybe he has some jokes.

I had to focus on anything but my anxiety.

Either way, no one responded to Rafael as we walked down the hallway. Everybody appeared worn out. Even the guards looked weary, as they stopped at a the door marked , 5E.