Dirty Desires: Interracial Russian Mafia Romance
“Trust me. I completely understand, but for the moment this cannot be helped.” I walked over to the limo and opened the back door. “I have already ruined this. At least let me check you into a nice hotel, get you cleaned up, have gowns sent, as well as some food. I am sure you would want to show up to Ava’s performance looking your best.”
She appeared to be about to say something, but then she paused.
“Trust me, Mrs. Jones. All I want to do is get you back to a 100%. I’ve caused you a lot of pain, so much in fact, that I cannot comprehend. Please, let me make good on this.”
She touched the brown stocking on her head and then dropped her hand.
“I know Ava will love to see you, and the performance will be mind-blowing. You should be draped in silk and diamonds.”
She raised one eyebrow. “How did you meet Ava?”
“Maybe we can discuss this in the limo.”
Maxwell got to us. He put his jacket back on and smiled at Mrs. Jones.
She looked at Maxwell and then me. “And you’re taking me to a hotel or something to get dressed for the performance?”
I gestured at the limo’s open door. “Yes, ma’am.”
Maxwell winked at me.
Mrs. Jones frowned. “After that, I’ll be with my granddaughter?”
“You will.” I touched the area over my heart. “Please, trust me. I don’t want to bring any more harm your way.”
Mrs. Jones checked over her shoulder. “And what about the other man? Is he coming?”
Maxwell spoke, “He won’t be joining us.”
She raised her eyebrows and stared at the plane.
Maxwell continued, “That’s the last you’ll see of him.”
She opened her mouth a little and then closed it.
I cleared my throat. “So, if it is okay with you, I would like to take you to a nice hotel to get some food, relaxation, and new clothes.”
She let out a long breath. “I’m not comfortable with this.”
Tension gathered in my shoulders.
Mrs. Jones looked around. “I don’t know anything about Russia.”
I stayed quiet.
She touched the stocking cap on her head again. “I’ll. . .need a phone too, if that is okay.”
“Yes, ma’am. I will get you a phone.”
Maxwell motioned no behind her.
I can’t keep the phone away from her, Maxwell. But I can make sure she doesn’t contact any authorities or even Ava.
I gestured for her to get inside the limo. “Like I said before, I’ll provide you with anything you want.”
She limped over to the limo and then climbed inside. With each movement, she checked over her shoulder as if we were going to hit her.
Maxwell climbed in behind her.
I followed and closed the door.
Maxwell and Mrs. Jones sat across from me.
The bag of money lay on the floor by my feet.
I wasn’t sure when would be the best time to hand it to her.
I should let her take it all in first.
I gestured to the bottled water and assortment of baked treats. “You must be hungry. Feel free to—”
“I’m not but thank you.” She held her hands in a tight ball in her lap.
Maxwell extended his hand. “I’m Maxwell and from New York too.”
She shook it but kept her eyes on me.
“Harlem.” Maxwell curved his mouth into a smile. “That’s where I’m from.”
She nodded and returned her gaze to me.
“So. . .” He kept the smile on his face, but it looked forced. “You’re Ava’s grandma?”
She nodded. “Mrs. Jones.”
“But can I call you grandma or granny? I’ve always wanted one.”
Her expression went tenser. “I. . .would like for you to call me Mrs. Jones.”
“Oh yeah. Of course.” He shrugged. “We’ll get to grandma later. When we know each other better.”
My phone rang, before I could step in and stop the discomfort.
What now? Please say it’s not Ava calling to talk. I won’t be able to ignore her much longer.
I yearned to hear her sweet voice. Checking the screen, I spotted my God father Rolan’s number.
Not right now, batya.
Rolan had been my father’s second in command for many years. All my life I called him batya. It was an informal way to say father. Still it carried a great amount of respect. He deserved every bit of it, stepping in at times when my father was too insane to try.
Once my father ceased with overseeing Kazimir’s power over the brotherhood and retired, Rolan began a life of adventure, traveling all over the world.
Many had wondered why Rolan didn’t stay with my father in Prague. Most seconds did, not having any idea how to live without being in another’s shadow. However, I was one of the few that knew how disgusted Rolan had become with him. The older my father became the less he listened to anyone.
My phone buzzed again.
I pressed ignore.
Not right now, batya. I know you’re hurting from father’s death. We’ll talk soon.
Without kids of his own, Rolan spoiled me. Once a month I received a box of snacks from places he visited all over the world—roasted groundnuts from Sierra Leone, banana-filled sponge cakes out of Tokyo, and even a box of See’s candy from Los Angeles.