Dirty Minds: An Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

“Emily!”

“I’m on the way. . .”

“Emily?”

The phone clicked off. I dialed again and the dead signal came back up.

Fuck you, Jean-Pierre.

The jeep continued to drive to the location.

Emily’s kidnapping changed the view of Paris. It was now an ugly site. A bouquet of scars. Angry, and red. Blood spilled over the city. Fires scattered across the huge expanse, giving a new definition to its nickname—The City of Lights. Gray clouds of smoke weighed the city down.

Maxwell widened his eyes. “What the hell is going on?”

“Emily said she escaped and then the signal went out.”

Maxwell grinned as he shook his head. “Does she know where the drop off is?”

“Yes, but I don’t give a damn about that. I want to grab her.”

“Naw.” Maxwell waved his hand. “Emily is going to want closure. Let her meet us there.”

I fisted my hand. “Fuck closure. I want her safe and back to me.”

Maxwell put up his gun. “Then, let her do what she do.”

“What does that mean?”

“Relax.” Maxwell shrugged. “I can’t believe she escaped.”

“It was dangerous.”

You’re pregnant, mouse. You have to be careful.

Maxwell leaned back in his seat. “This is almost over, but. . .I should’ve known.” A weak laugh left him. “She always escapes in the end. She hates to be trapped.”

Blue quirked her eyebrows. “How did she do it?”

“She didn’t have time to tell me.” I ran my fingers through my hair, and gazed out the window as Paris sped by me. It was easy for Maxwell to have so much confidence. He didn’t have his whole heart beating in those tiny hands?

I barely made it without her.

You escaped again? I told you not to. You better get back to me safely. And Jean-Pierre better not get in the way.

Maxwell laughed.

I frowned. “What’s so funny?”

“Emily always keeps things interesting.”

“That she does.”

“Now what do we do with the French?” Maxwell asked. “Jean-Pierre hasn’t said anything—”

“And he won’t. All he cares about is his flute player. He’ll come for her, regardless.”

“What do we do?”

“Emily gets to me safely, then we kill them.”

Maxwell eyed me. “Jean-Pierre and his cousins?”

“All of them. Everybody that’s not us.” I glared out of the window. “Once Emily arrives. The cousins get it. The flute player too. Jean-Pierre dies last. I want him to see everything. After that, we go to Moscow, but some remain. We take out his bloodline. Fuck them all.”

Maxwell drew an invisible cross in front of him. “Remind me to never piss you off.”

A deadly quiet rode the rest of the drive.

On my left, Pavel answered the phone and then turned to me. “David said that no one’s in the movie theater. Authorities are emptying out the mall now. We didn’t put in that call.”

“Jean-Pierre must’ve just warned them. Good. No innocents have to die, just his men.”

I thought about the additional information I learned about the exchange spot.

Forum des Halles, was its own little underground city. It had 150 stores along with high end restaurants, a hip-hop center, swimming pool, library, and gymnasium. It would be a maze getting out of that place.

Even more important, it would be a massive battle ground. Tons of things to use for death. If the authorities came inside—military, or police—I would kill them. No one would be safe if they got in my way.

I didn’t need to be behind anymore national incidents this year. The FBI already had my name connected to the bombing. President Smirnov might get cute, and try to help, or align with other governments.

No worries. Get Emily back and then think of the consequences.

Emily was tough and the most powerful women I knew. Once I had her back at my side, there would be no stress. If the governments came up against us, we would destroy them. If somehow they were able to put me behind bars, I knew Emily wouldn’t let me sit in there for too long.

That’s if, I don’t escape again.

I shook my head.

No. None of these things are my future. Think about her. It’s safe now.

For the first time since she was taken, I imagined her back within my arms.

It will happen. Baba confirmed it. There are no other options.

Ten minutes later, we arrived at the mall. The limo parked by the theater’s fire exit. Several of David’s men stood outside. While I expected Misha to be at my side, David had proven to be a huge help. Half the coming chaos would not have been executed so perfectly without him.

He has to be at my side from now on.

David got out the car with Jean-Pierre’s lover. He guided the flute player out of the other jeep and walked over to us.

Our men were already outside the theater. I entered from the fire exit and gestured for the flute player to come to me. A little sluggish, she hurried over.

What would the Butcher want with such a weak little thing?