Dirty Hearts: Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

“Cool, but it would have more effect if I found him myself. You giving him to me is bullshit. I want to do it myself.”

“You’re on another level. We don’t do things ourselves anymore,” Kazimir grumbled. “I can make my own sandwich, but I haven’t in ten years.”

I sighed.

“You’re on another level now. We don’t muck about with the peasants.” He nipped at my bottom lip. “Let my men handle it. Let them get the names and faces. Whoever is involved from top to low level will die by your hands.” He kissed me again. “For now, let’s enjoy Paris.”

“And if this guy isn’t discovered before we get back?”

“Then you and your men have full freedom to investigate.”

“Whatever.”

He quirked his eyebrows. “You’re still mad.”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“You withheld information and messed with communication with my men.” I finished cleaning as much as I could without those delicious hands distracting me. It was time to get control of my new lover. He had to bring the alpha male bullshit down several notches.

I walked out of the shower, quickly grabbed a towel, and left.

He watched me. “And how am I going to make this up?”

“Maybe I’ll add a bow to that outfit!” I entered the bedroom.

“Come back!”

“Don’t mess with my phone anymore!”

He muttered a curse but didn’t say anything else.

I returned to the doorway and watched him turn off the shower and stomp out.

“Kaz, I don’t know what you did with your other women, but this is too much.”

“I’m learning.”

“And if that motherfucker sends another animal to the house, you tell me.”

“Of course. I just didn’t want you stressed—”

“I want a picture of the chimpanzee and baby. I want to know what I was supposed to see when I walked in.”

“I have many people handling this. Several agencies as well as—”

“If it’s a person in your brotherhood, he may have those same contacts. We don’t know what this is. Stop withholding stuff from me.” I dried myself off. “And don’t you ever mess with my phone again!”

Kazimir grumbled some more. “You’re barely clean. Come back in the shower.”

“You’re barely forgiven.” I decided to change in the extra bedroom.

Hours later, we rode toward the French countryside in silence. Kazimir didn’t know where we were going, and I was still pissed. I understood his mindset but didn’t agree. It was the same problem from Prague—him thinking he had to protect me from everything.

I thought we had this settled. Are we always going to be arguing about this?

I turned to him.

He was on the phone with Zahkar, getting updates. He looked gorgeous in the tweed blazer and leather trousers. A brown tie went with his white shirt. Everything blended together perfectly. Before he’d waken up, I’d even gotten some help from Valentina who knew his sizes by heart. They were such an odd bunch of siblings, but I loved them.

Every now and then, he glanced at me. I made it clear I was eavesdropping. How else would I get information?

I can’t believe he didn’t tell me about the chimpanzees.

From listening to his phone conversation, I’d learned our guards in Paris had caught wind of the French mafia following us. I didn’t know much about the Corsican and wondered why they would stupidly bother us. I glanced over my shoulder and confirmed what I’d heard from eavesdropping. Two white vans followed far in the back.

“I know we’re in France and this is Jean-Pierre’s domain.” Kazimir waited and then his voice boomed. “Fuck tradition. I don’t get permission from anyone.”

I looked out the window as a third van showed up further away.

Three vans. Damn. Are they trying to start something today? What’s going on?

“No. I did not call him. Why would I?” Kazimir looked out the window at one of the vans. “You’re not contacting Jean-Pierre either. If his pansies come close, they’ll be dead.”

Do we really need a war with the Corsican?

Keeping Kazimir calm was turning into a job. Had I not stepped in with President Smirnov and him, I swore it would’ve gone horrible.

I mean, isn’t there some punishment for stabbing a general in your hotel room?

Kazimir barked some more, “Jean-Pierre should stay far from me before I put blood on his dress.”

I smirked.

No wonder he messed with my phone and kept everything from me. He thinks he’s a god.

In a way, he was. We’d gone to Paris for dinner. He’d slapped one high level general and killed another. He’d rented out an underground burial city for the afternoon just as a light surprise. So far, I hadn’t seen Kazimir not dominate and take what he wanted.

“It may be unwarranted, but Jean-Pierre knows better. Get some men on him.” He shut off the phone.

I looked at him. “Why are the Corsican following us?”

“You’re talking to me now?”

“A little bit.”

“It’s my surprise date. You’re supposed to talk to me.”