Dirty Minds: An Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

“I don’t understand.”

“Kaz.”

“Fine, mysh.”

“You won’t start a war?”

“No.” I gave a wicked grin. “We can discuss it tomorrow.”

I didn’t know what a new day would change. I wanted to kill Jean-Pierre. I wanted to flatten all of France. The whole fucking country. They were a bunch of snobs anyway.

Friends? You think you can kidnap my mouse and then be friends? I’ll fucking gut you in front of your flute player.

It didn’t matter what they had discussed.

It didn’t matter that in the end, that she came back to me.

It didn’t matter that my plane now took off and rose safely into the sky.

None of it mattered.

Jean-Pierre and his cousins had to die. And France had to weep. And blood had to spill into the streets. A dark cloud would hover over them all, allowing a path for death to swoop down.

This wasn’t even about principal.

It was about consequences.

A low snore came from my mouse.

Emily nuzzled against me and I held her closer.

And then, all my anger disappeared, as I watched my mouse sleep.

She said yes. She agreed to be my wife. Did she understand how serious I was?

If I could, I would marry her on the plane. But she required the best of things. We would need a ceremony.

And what remained back in Moscow for us? Had Zahkar handled the monkey situation? If not, more blood would pour. My mouse had been through enough. There could be no more problems.

Friendship?

The audacity of that little perfumed pansy. Did he think he could slither out of my reach by warming up to my mouse.

I’ll have to hear the story of how she beat him up.

Still, the idea of him even fighting with her enraged me. Surely, he had a difficult task. It was damn near impossible to keep Emily, if she didn’t want to be kept.

I smiled at her.

You escaped him.

Pride filled me. Fear twisted along with it. I thought of Emily’s words.

“I don’t a war. Not for this.”

How could I let something like this go? I touched Emily’s stomach, wondering how our little girl was doing. If I proceeded with a war, how would Emily’s pregnancy go?

I’ll let the doctor decide.

I tried to envision a peaceful time, while I fought Jean-Pierre. The man wouldn’t be as easy as an opponent as I thought. He showed a lot of strength these past days. No matter what I brought at him, he was able to push against it and keep Emily hidden, and captive.

The one that eventually beat Jean-Pierre, was Emily.

I stared at her with more pride.

So strong. Who else could be by my side, but her? Who else was more worthy? No one.

Not even the Corsican could stop her.

Would we always be this lucky? Yes. It can only be that way.

I turned my view to the window. The plane rose above the clouds. The sun was slowly setting. We would be back in Moscow in less than four hours.

Emily’s words played out in my head.

“I don’t a war. Not for this.”

I let out a long breath and rubbed my face. Exhaustion took me over.

Okay, mysh. Maybe, I’ll listen. Maybe.

I would halt any plans for now. Just for now. Jean-Pierre could never live for too long.

First, see what the doctor says. Nothing could stress her out and make the pregnancy difficult.

For now, Jean-Pierre could breathe.

Enjoy these days, you fucking pansy.

The doctor and universe would decide how I would deal with Jean-Pierre later. My mouse had to be safe and unharmed. Our child, too. As long as they remained with me and protected, I would let France have Paris.

Not moving too much, I kept Emily in my arms and grabbed the bottle of vodka. She snuggled closer and continued to sleep. Nude, her soft body smoothed against mine, exciting my cock and waking him up.

She’s bruised. We can’t taste her yet.

Chapter 16

Emily

The smell of French fries stirred me out of my sleep.

I woke to ringing in my ears and throbbing pain from half a dozen bruises all over my naked body.

Blinking my eyes, I rose from the bed.

“You’re food is here,” Kazimir said.

I put all my energy in my smile, barely able to focus with my eyes. “I know. I can smell them.”

“Here you go.” Kazimir set a silver platter on the space next to me. A large bowl of fries rested on the platter. “Eat it all up.”

I grabbed several fries, stuffing as many as I could in my mouth. I groaned as I munched down on the salty concoction. They were perfect—crispy on the outside and soft in the middle. I licked my fingers and ate some more. “How long was I out?”

“Barely twenty minutes.” Kazimir watched me with a tickled expression on his face. He took a swig from the bottle of vodka, doing his own damage. It was still half full, but I didn’t think it would be filled for too long.