Trapped with the Mob Boss: A Mafia Romance (Petrov Bratva)

by Nicole Fox

  I hear a scuffle behind us, a man shouts for someone to be careful, and a few other bystanders grumble about rudeness, and I can only assume the two men following us are growing desperate. They’re probably running through the hotel now. Maybe they even have their guns out. But I don’t look back to see.

  Instead, I slam the door behind me and beat on the dash for Yuri to drive. He obliges, and we peel out.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Bella

  I watch through the back window for the first fifteen minutes before I accept no one is following us. Not yet, anyway.

  “Where are we going?”

  Yuri’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel, and he glances in the rearview mirror before sighing. “I’m not sure, but we need to ditch this car. The man will report it stolen soon enough and police will only make everything more complicated.”

  I nod. I have no idea how to steal a car. Technically, I helped Yuri steal this one, but not really. So far, I’ve been more of a liability than an asset in this whole shootout and chase. I want to help, but I don’t know how. Probably because I’m still not sure what is going on.

  “You tried to leave me back at the hotel.”

  Yuri looks over at me, eyebrows drawn together, ashamed. “I know.”

  “If you’d left a few minutes sooner, I would have died,” I say.

  “I know.” It sounds like his teeth are grinding together now. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” I say. And I mean it. “Just help me be useful. Tell me what is going on.”

  He shakes his head. “Knowing too much is dangerous.”

  “So is not knowing enough,” I argue. “I don’t care how you feel about it; we’re in this together, and I need to know what is going on.”

  “We’re being hunted,” he says. “What more do you need to know?”

  I think about it for a moment, and decide to start from the beginning. “The first night we were in the hotel, at the restaurant—what were those numbers for?”

  “The numbers were attached to a Swiss bank account used by The Society to fund its operations.”

  “And who was the man who fed me the numbers?”

  Yuri glances at me quickly before looking back to the road. “He works for the CIA.”

  “He what?” I twist towards him, eyes wide. “I thought you were a criminal. What are you doing talking to the CIA? Has it all been a ruse? Are you actually working for the government?”

  He chuckles once and shakes his head. “No, I’m still on the wrong side of the law. Don’t worry, not that much has changed. But my family has been working with the CIA to bring The Society down.”

  “Why would the CIA want to work with criminals to bring down other criminals?”

  “Have you never heard of a plea deal?” he asks. “The government uses criminals to ferret out other criminals all the time. Justice is hardly as simple as most people think.”

  I’m beginning to think nothing is as simple as I thought. A few days ago, my life was simple. My biggest problem was where to order dinner. Now, the world feels like it has been tipped on its axis and one wrong move will send everything tumbling into space.

  “So, why was the CIA giving the numbers to you instead of the other way around?” I ask.

  Yuri turns off the main road onto a side street. I can see him scanning parking lots and driveways as we go, scoping out the next car we’ll take. “Because they need proof The Society is shady, and as long as The Society has an endless supply of money, their business partners won’t talk. But, if we can take out those accounts, suddenly people aren’t getting paid.”

  “And they’ll turn their backs on The Society?” I ask.

  “My family operates on loyalty. Everyone else,” he said, “they speak in money. Your father included.”

  I know my father isn’t the man I thought, but it still feels strange to let Yuri say anything bad about him. Especially because, until I can talk to my father face-to-face, I don’t think I’ll ever really believe he’s as bad as the finance records made him look.

  “Sorry,” Yuri says, as though he can read my mind. “Your father was working with us, as you saw on the reports. But the reports didn’t show you that he was helping us take down The Society. He wore wires to meetings and was supposed to make them all believe he was on their side so he could turn vital information over to us. And then, in turn, we would turn it over to the CIA.”

  “Wait a minute,” I say, holding up a hand to stop him. “Why did you and your dad look so freaked when I mentioned the men with The Society pins in my dad’s office? You already knew he was meeting with them.”

  “We didn’t know about those meetings. It meant your father was working with them on his own terms and everything he knew about us—our hiding places, our defenses—couldn’t be trusted. It’s why we had to run.” Yuri turns down an alley suddenly and pulls into the shade behind an apartment building. He parks the car and turns it off, leaving the key in the ignition. Then, he turns to me, wide mouth quirked up in a mischievous smile. “Ready to go car shopping?”

  We get out and Yuri throws the duffel across his chest and then wraps an arm around my waist, leading me towards the parking garage next to the apartment. It takes me a minute to adjust to the darkness inside, but once I do, Yuri begins gesturing to cars, letting me have my pick.

  “I don’t care,” I say. “Whichever one you want.”

  He raises his brows in surprise and then turns towards our options, lips pouted in thought. Then his face lights up and he points towards the row of cars to our right. “What about that one?”

  It’s a rust bucket if ever I’ve seen one. The metal is so eaten away that it’s hard to tell what color the car was originally and the back window is patched over with a quilt of tape, cardboard, and plastic tarping. Just looking at it makes me want a tetanus shot.

  I wrinkle my nose. “Absolutely not.”

  “I thought you didn’t care,” he teases, elbowing me in the side. “Come on. It’s your first time. Just pick one.”

  I turn to him, finger wagging. “It’s also my last time. I’m only stealing a car now because our lives depend on it. Don’t think you are turning me into a criminal.”

  He holds his hands up in surrender. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Now, please, pick one.”

  I scan the lot for a moment before my eyes land on a silver sports car in the back. It has black stripes moving diagonally across the sides and chrome wheels. Yuri follows my gaze and whistles. “You have expensive taste.”

  “We can pick another one,” I say, feeling self-conscious for some strange reason.

  “No.” Yuri presses a hand into my lower back and ushers me towards the car. “What my lady wants, my lady gets.”

  I’m embarrassed by how much I’m tripped up by his casual use of “my lady.” Am I his lady? Is he my man? The questions plague me enough that the next thing I know, he’s opening the passenger side door for me, beckoning me into the white leather interior with a strong arm.

  The car isn’t the nicest one I’ve been in, but the thrill of being in it without permission excites something in me I didn’t know existed. Guilt flares up in me like a fire, but it’s doused the moment Yuri pulls out of the alley and steps on the gas. The car purrs beneath us, sending butterflies into my stomach, and I can’t help but laugh.

  “It’s nice to hear you laugh,” Yuri says, reaching across the console and grabbing my hand. “After you found out the truth about your dad, I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear it again.”

  I squeeze his hand back and do my best to keep smiling, but the mention of my dad sours things a bit. Finally, when I can’t resist any longer, I let go of his hand and continue asking questions. “How do we know we have the right impression of my dad?”

  “What do you mean?” Yuri asks, placing both hands on the steering wheel.

  “I mean,” I say, trying to find the right words. “You know my father was meeting with The Society, but what if he felt he
didn’t have another choice? What if he only met with them in secret because they figured out he was a mole and were threatening him?”

  Yuri thinks about it for a few seconds, and I appreciate him not immediately dismissing the theory. Then he surprises me. “We don’t technically know where he is right now, so that is a possibility.”

  “You have no clue where he is?” I ask. I kind of thought they were just telling me that so I wouldn’t try to run away and reach out to him. But if they really don’t know where he is, how do I know he’s even still alive? The thought lodges in my throat and makes my eyes water. I fight back tears.

  Yuri shakes his head. “That’s why we grabbed you. We thought threatening you would catch his attention. If The Society has figured out what his role in all of this was, he could be in serious danger.”

  A tear rolls down my cheek before I can stop it, and I wipe it away quickly. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this sooner?”

  “Because I didn’t want to worry you,” he says. “I figured either we would find him alive and everything would be as we suspected, or we would find him dead, and we’d deal with it then.”

  A surprised sob breaks out of me, and Yuri twists in his seat, sending the car swerving into oncoming traffic before he quickly corrects it. “Shit. I’m sorry, Bella. I didn’t mean your dad is dead. The fact that we haven’t found him yet means he’s probably still alive. As you saw back at the hotel, The Society aren’t great at keeping a low profile. They prefer kicking down doors and turning people into Swiss cheese. If your dad was dead, we would have found him by now.”

  My heart is still thundering, but his words actually calm me. “Are you telling me the truth?”

  Yuri reaches across the console and squeezes my knee, his thumb brushing fire across my skin. “I’ll always tell you the truth from now on. Like you said, we’re in this together.”

  “Thank you,” I say, laying my hand over his. “I just wish I could be more helpful. So far, I feel like a burden.”

  “No one expects you to take out trained assassins, Bella,” Yuri says. Then, he pauses. “But if you do have any idea where your dad might be hiding out, that would be great.”

  “I don’t have a clue,” I say. “I always thought he was either at home or at his office. Now I know he had this whole secret life, so you probably know him better than I do.”

  “That’s not true. He’s your dad.”

  “Yeah,” I reluctantly agree. “But we aren’t looking for my dad right now. We’re looking for your business partner, and I don’t even know that man.”

  We drive in silence for a while, Yuri zigzagging through the city with no obvious destination in mind, when a thought begins to form in my head. If I was looking for my dad, I’d just call him. He always answers my calls. For a while when I was a teenager, he had a work phone and a personal phone, but he found carrying two phones too much to keep track of. He was always leaving one at home or in his car, and he missed more of my calls during that time than ever. So, he went back to only having one phone. One phone that I had the number for.

  “Where is my phone?” I ask, holding my hand out.

  Yuri is surprised and then shakes his head. “I don’t have it on me. It’s in the duffel. Why do you need it?”

  I twist in the seat and grab his bag, unzipping it hastily.

  “Careful,” he warns, looking over his shoulder for a second, watching my movements. “There’s more than just gym clothes in there.”

  I wade through bullets, pocket knives, and black boxer briefs before I find my cell phone buried in the bottom of the bag. I grab it and hit the home button, but nothing happens.

  “Shit.” I open up the glove compartment and the console, rifling through the owner’s car title and packs of gum. “My phone is dead.”

  “I have mine if you need a phone.” Yuri points to his front pocket, but stops when I shake my head.

  “I need my phone. I’m looking for a charger.” Just then, I find a long cable with a cigarette lighter attachment on the end. I check the plug with my phone and do an actual fist pump when I realize it fits. “Thank God for standardized plugs.”

  “What is going on?” Yuri asks.

  I wait for the red bar to flash green and for my screen to flash to life before I answer, enjoying the brief moment where Yuri is in the dark instead of me. “I have a family locator app on my phone. My dad’s secret service forced me to install it forever ago. I never use it, but the app linked our phones together, so if his phone is on, I can log in and see where it’s at.”

  “It’s that easy?” Yuri asks, sounding unconvinced.

  To answer him, I simply open the app, click on my father’s avatar, and wait for the app to home in on his location. Within ten seconds, a tiny green circle appears on the man. I hold it out for him to see.

  “Where is that?” he asks, squinting at the screen.

  I look back at the map, nerves replacing the fleeting rush of accomplishment. “He’s at home. Or, at least, his phone is.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Yuri

  Bella wants to go to the house right away, and I can understand why. She has a lot of questions for her dad, and finally, we have a clue where he might be. But showing up in the middle of the day seems stupid, and it doesn’t take much for Bella to agree with me. So, I find us a cheap hotel.

  “I’ve never stayed in a hotel with no lobby,” Bella says, chewing on her lip while she looks at the long line of hotel doors that open directly to the parking lot.

  “There’s technically a lobby,” I say, pointing to the small, glass-enclosed building at the far end of the hotel rooms. There’s a glowing neon sign above the door that says “vacancy.”

  Bella looks less than convinced, but when I park in the lot—license plate facing away from the road in case any cops drive by and decide to run plates and catch themselves a car thief—she climbs out and walks inside with me, head held high.

  The man behind the counter is overweight and sweaty, the exact kind of man I’d expect to run an establishment like this one. He barely looks at me, his eyes glued to Bella. She’s in jeans and a T-shirt, but she still looks incredible. I want to bloody his nose and teach him manners, but he’s also the only witness to our staying at the motel, and I don’t want to give him any more reason to remember us. So, I smile.

  “Got a room?”

  He points up at the vacancy sign. “Can you read?”

  My smile falls, and I arch an eyebrow. “Better than you’ll be able to when I’m—”

  “What my husband meant to say,” Bella said, twining her arm through mine, “was ‘do you have a special room?’ We’re newlyweds.”

  The man looks Bella up and down and snorts back a nose full of snot. “And you’re here?”

  “We got married up the road,” Bella said, smiling wider than I’ve ever seen her. She tucks herself against my side and lays her head on my shoulder. “We had plans to make it to the city, but we were ... impatient.”

  She rolls her hips against my body, making me shift uncomfortably in my jeans, and the clerk’s gaze turns hungry. “Actually, we do have a nice suite available.”

  “Sweet,” Bella purrs, batting her lashes at the man. “We’ll take it.”

  The man seems stunned by her attention for a moment, but he eventually manages to stand up and grab the key for the room. When he returns to the desk, he withholds the key, turning his scowl to me.

  I slide a neat pile of cash across the table. “I’m paying extra so we won’t be bothered.”

  Suddenly, Bella might as well be a plate of rotten meat. The man has eyes for nothing but the cash as he holds the key out to us. He’s counting it when we leave.

  ***

  The “nice suite” features a threadbare rug, two dusty candles, and a special code to unlock the adult channels on the television. Otherwise, it’s as drab as I imagine every other room in the motel is. The one thing that makes the room nice is Bella standing in it.

&nbs
p; She’s blowing dust off one of the candles, her lips puckered, and the only thing I can think about is how they would feel on my skin. She sets the candle down and wipes her hand off on her jeans, and I can only think about what she would look like with them off. We were playing horny honeymooners to get the room, but I’m not acting anymore. The adrenaline from the shootout and stealing the car seems to have found another direction, and suddenly, I have to have her. Now.

  Bella seems to realize this because when she looks at me, her eyes widen. “Are you okay?”

  I shake my head and stalk towards her. “Not even remotely.”

  “You look ... scary,” she says, her mouth twitching up in a smile. “You’re looking at me like you want to eat me.”

  I lick my lips. “I do.”

  She bites her lip and looks at the floor. “It has been a pretty busy day already.”

  “Do you want me to be all work and no play?” I ask, stopping when we’re only a foot apart. I reach out and run a finger down her ribs and over the swell of her hip. “I have a lot of energy I need to unleash. Any idea where I could put it?”

  When she looks up at me, her eyes are wide, cheeks flushed, and I want nothing more than to throw her down and make her scream my name. I’m throbbing inside my jeans, and if she turns me down, I’m afraid I might actually implode.

  Then, she shifts her leg, her thighs opening ever so slightly, and glances down. “I have an idea.”

  The growl that comes out of me is primal as I push her back against the wall and bite her neck. She yelps, but grabs the hem of my T-shirt and begins pulling it over my head. In a flailing mess of arms and legs we tear each other out of our clothes until I can run my hands down the flat plane of her stomach and the smooth curve of her thighs. She feels like heaven in my hands, and I pin her against the wall with my hips so she can’t run away.