Dirty Minds: An Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

“That will be hard in these next days.”

She gave me a sad smile. “You’ll want revenge?”

“I will.”

“Be careful that the Devil is not on your side.”

I gave her a wicked smile, thinking of Jean-Pierre’s enemy handcuffed on my plane. “The Devil’s on my side for now.”

Her forehead wrinkled as she studied me. “I see nothing but darkness for Paris.”

“That sounds right.”

She set the silver stick down. “Even at the mention of your mouse, the cards showed love and peace. Be careful that you don’t lose her on your path of revenge.”

I can’t lose her.

“Love is about choice, lion.”

I wondered if Baba could read my thoughts, or if my face was so easily readable after all my exhaustion. This had been the most emotional I ever felt. The last time I was this anxious and stressed, my mother was on her death bed.

Baba set the cards away and sighed. “That is all I have for you today. Perhaps, if you come back again, I will have more to say.”

I opened my mouth and then closed it.

“What?”

“I have another question.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“No. I decided I don’t want to know the answer, if for some reason, I don’t have her.”

“Ask. I already told you that she’ll be safe and back with you.”

I gripped the table harder. “Is she pregnant?”

“Yes.”

Tears left my eyes. I rubbed them away with both hands.

Jesus. Is this real? Can I trust this?

My voice cracked at the end. “Boy or girl?”

Baba curved her mouth into a wrinkled smile. “A girl.”

My hands shook. Baba and even the room left me. I sat in the space by myself, covered in the glowing light from the emerald chandelier.

A girl?

A knock came from behind me and brought me back to the moment.

Maxwell’s voice filled the room. “Misha is on the phone.”

“Thank you, baba. I must go.” I rose.

“Come back.”

“I will.” I headed out of the parlor and took the phone from Maxwell. “Yes?”

Misha’s voice came on the line. “Jean-Pierre called in a lot of favors to have the towers off. I’m doing my best.”

I pushed down my disappointment. “Good. Get them up for as long as you can.”

“I’m sorry, Kazimir.”

Thinking of Baba’s words, I held in my anger.

“You’ll get her back.” Misha’s voice went low. “Trust me.”

“I better.” I hung up and hurried down the hallway.

“What’s next?” David asked.

“We head to Forum des Halles and prepare.”

“Did. . .did my grandmother help?”

“She did.” I stopped and turned to him. “In fact, I think you should consider moving. Your grandmother too.”

He widened his eyes. “Moving to where?”

“Moscow.” I headed off. “We’ll talk more later.”

Chapter 8

Emily

Minutes passed. There looked to be no chance of Kazimir or Maxwell coming. If they had the location, they would’ve been here.

I have to go with another plan.

My stomach growled.

Right after I eat.

I was exhausted and slow. I needed some food and coffee. Anything to get my mind back to thinking again.

Natalie continued to cook, but now she had her son with her. She’d said his name was Benji. The little guy sat on her right hip, while she stirred something in a pan.

I wasn’t a fan of kids. I didn’t hate them. I just knew, that they were precious and needed to be handled with care. And I wasn’t sure, if I was the right person to be around something so pure.

But the little boy was gorgeous. I tried not to look Benji’s way. He had these big eyes that appeared plucked from an angel. Same brown skin as Gwen and her. And on top of his head was a puff of kinky curls.

I thought back to Kazimir’s and my conversation in the Eiffel Tower.

“I’m more than ready.” He stared at me with intensity. “I imagine. . .”

“You imagine what?”

“A little girl that looks like you, but with my smile, or maybe even my eyes. A boy. My face, but with beautiful brown skin. Twins even, or triplets.”

“Okay. Wait a minute.”

“These are just my dreams.”

“But could you not dream about triplets?”

“Then twins.”

Benji watched me and gurgled little bubbles around his lips. He popped a few of the bubbles and giggled.

A stupid smile spread across my face.

Louis scowled at me.

Relax. I’m not going to kill him.

Natalie pulled out a highchair. One of Jean-Pierre’s guards grabbed it for her, and tried to help her put the kid in it.

“I’ve got it.” Natalie placed Benji down in seconds and strapped him in. “Okay. Back to S.O.S. It’s almost done.”

Louis rose. “How can I help?”

“By sitting your big behind down. You’ll take up the whole kitchen.”

He sure would. Go sit your ass down. We’re hungry.

Louis smirked but lowered back onto his stool.

When he looked my way, I turned.

For a kidnapping, and us hiding out in these women’s apartment, everything had been going okay. I was bummed about not getting rescued, but there was a chance of bacon. Sometimes it was the little things that kept a person going.