Dirty Minds: An Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

“Then Misha, or you need to get it back up.” I left the room.

Adrenaline and rage pumped through my blood. With all the power and money I had, Jean-Pierre and his cousins should not have had her for this long. We had a location for the exchange, but Jean-Pierre had been kicking my ass all day. Even as I destroyed Paris, he prevailed.

Maxwell cursed. “We’ve got to get Misha in on this.”

“He should have been here.” I stormed into the kitchen.

Eden paused from eating and stared.

I wanted to fling the dining table over and slam it into the wall. Let David’s grandmother’s, teacups crash to the floor.

Instead, I ran my fingers through my hair.

David stepped into the space. “The Ukraines are on the way. They’re putting together a vehicle with a big gun on the top.”

“Good.”

One of David’s men came in and whispered in his ear. He sighed and looked at me. “Kazimir, please don’t shoot me for suggesting this, but. . .”

“What?”

“We did come here for my grandmother. She’s ready to talk to you. Apparently, she had a dream about all of this. She said if she doesn’t talk to you, all of Paris will be drowning in blood.”

“Paris drowning in blood.” I smiled. “She definitely can see into the future. Bring her in.”

David raised his eyebrows. “She doesn’t like to read in the front. Something about the energy and the placement of the sun, or is it the moon. Either way, she’s in the back.”

Nodding, I turned back to Blue. “Get in contact with Misha. I don’t care about the towers. If my mouse was clever enough to get a phone, then we can help her.”

Blue’s bottom lip quivered. “How—?”

“Earn your weight. Figure it out. Do smoke signals if you have to.” I walked off with David to the back. If his grandmother had some connection to the spirit world, or universe I didn’t care. I just hoped whatever it was would work. I would try anything right now. I would employ anyone’s help, if they could just get my mouse back to me. Hopefully, she had a direct line to God.

At this moment, I had a lot of shit to say to him.

As we walked down a bright hall, I assessed the place some more.

David’s grandmother had a simple house, close to the size that I grew up in years ago. Today, David had been the smartest of my men throughout the world. Although a millionaire, he didn’t flash it. Apparently, no one in Little Russia ever fucked with him. And besides Jean-Pierre attacking him, the rest of the French gave him respect.

I’ll have to reward David and his grandmother later. They helped out a lot.

The hall opened to massive paintings of the baby Jesus. The next one displayed an older Jesus among his disciples. Finally at the end of the hall, Jesus at the table in the famous last supper.

“I hope she can help.” David opened a door and led us down another hallway.

“I’ll try anything.”

“She’s religious, but you’d never notice.”

Oh, I noticed.

But then, as we moved deeper into the hallway, paintings of Jesus shifted to mystical gods. She had different ones on display. Various cultures—African to East Indian. The last painting showed Odin in disguise as an old man. A black hood hid his face in shadows. He held a long staff in his right hand.

“I take her to church every Sunday.” He stepped in front of the last door but didn’t open it. “But I think she only goes to get clients. When their prayers aren’t heard, they come to her.”

“She’s a healer.”

“She says she’s God’s helper.”

“I’ll need that.”

He opened the door. Disappointed, I realized it led us into a tiny hallway with steps going down to the basement.

This house is bigger than I thought.

We walked down the small, dark path and then the steps. At the end, it opened out into a kitchen.

No. This is some sort of lab.

Herbs filled bottles sat on several wooden shelves. Many of them had been labeled by tape and scribbling in black ink. Wet animal skulls rested on the counter next to a sink. They appeared to be freshly cleaned.

David guided me past them to another set of steps. This stairway wall held little mirrors with runes carved into them. The same ones David had on his steps. One small fossil rested on each step.

“What does she do?” I asked.

“She comes up with concoctions for small pain. But her real strength, is reading tarot cards. She’s always on point. I trust her with everything.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Trust me. I would never waste your time.”

I believed him.

Besides, I used tarot card readers before. My mother, and Uncle Igor had always believed in them. The practice stuck with me. Granted, it had been years since I’d sought out a good fortune teller. At least a decade before I’d gone into power.