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Dirty Love (The Lion and The Mouse Book 2)

Page 18

by Kenya Wright

“Yes.” He gestured to the bed. “What do you think right now?”

  A beautiful woman lay on a bed, cold and very dead.

  “What the fuck? They didn’t move her yet?” I held my hand to my nose, blocking the rotting stench that came my way. “What the fuck? I don’t want to see this shit.”

  “Sorry, they were waiting on me, and I had to deal with Em.”

  “Man, Em could’ve waited.” I coughed through the stench. “This woman has been rotting here—”

  “Maxwell, relax. They want to move her right now, but I wanted you to see her first.”

  “Well, if you’re waiting for me to decide if she’s dead, then yes, she’s dead.”

  “No, I want you to look at her and see if you have any answers.”

  “Look?”

  “I want you to call me Kazimir.” He extended his hand to me. “You never do. We’re friends now.”

  With my free hand, I shook his hand, while I kept the other one guarding my nose.

  “I want you to look into this,” Kazimir continued.

  “You want me to figure out who killed your ex-girlfriend?”

  “She wasn’t a girlfriend. She was more like a weekend lover. Doesn’t matter. I’d already cut it off, several months before the New York trip. No one knew.”

  I chuckled. “Now I know why you brought me.”

  “Why?”

  “You want me to clean that shit up, before Em finds out.”

  “No. There’s no need to clean anything. I need your assessment.”

  “Assessment? That’s not my job? That’s what Em does.”

  “This isn’t for Em.”

  “Because she would be jealous?”

  “She wouldn’t.”

  “Then, you don’t know Em.”

  His face went serious. “Just assess the situation.”

  “You want me to do what Em does, when I don’t work that way? I clean up shit and shoot people sometimes. I don’t do detective work.”

  “Do your best.”

  The uniformed men came to him. A tense exchange continued. Kazimir nodded, and then the men thankfully carted the dead body away. Others opened more of the windows in the suite.

  I went to her luggage. Someone handed me plastic gloves. I put them on, not knowing what the hell I would find. “Why would Valentina do it, if she did?”

  “I don’t know. It would make more sense if it was Sasha.”

  “But Sasha knows you’re into Em. At least, that was what he was betting on.”

  “True.”

  “So, your ex dying may not even be related?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Which means your sister is not trying to kill you.”

  Kazimir didn’t say anything.

  Now I get it. You’re not upset about the ballerina’s death. You’re more pissed at why she was killed. What purpose did it serve, the murder? Did the ballerina know something?

  With the plastic gloves on my hands, I looked through her luggage. “You don’t have anybody else to trust with this?”

  “Are you complaining about doing me this favor?”

  “No, I’m just wondering why you and I are the only people in the room, and your men are out in the hall.”

  “Focus on the room.”

  “I’m just saying. It seems like you’re having some loyalty issues.” I pulled out a framed picture of Olesya. “She was pretty.”

  “That’s obvious.”

  “You’re a man that likes pretty. I’m just assessing.” I pulled more things out. “What type of person travels with a gold framed picture of herself? I’m just saying.”

  Kazimir ignored me and stared out the open window.

  A large manila envelope was stuck at the bottom. I didn’t make a big show of it, but I pulled it open a little. Photos lay inside. Naked images of a succulent woman. Unfortunately, I knew the woman in the pictures.

  Damn, Valentina. You’re a sexy motherfucker. Now why would your brother’s ex-lover have naked pictures of you?

  I checked for Kazimir. By now, he had his back to me. I stuffed the pictures inside my suit jacket and hoped he wouldn’t notice. Checking the luggage some more, I found nothing else.

  I can already tell this shit is going to be weird.

  I shook my head, feeling like I was being pulled into some bullshit. “Can you tell me about Olesya?”

  “She liked ballet and really loved talking about it.”

  “Is that what you two would talk about?”

  “We didn’t talk, Maxwell.”

  I nodded, understanding the situation more clearly. I’d definitely had those particular women that I would call, visit, fuck, and leave. And no matter how many times I called them later for the same thing, they answered and welcomed that dick.

  I scanned around the room. “You paid for this?”

  “Of course.”

  “Anything else?” I asked.

  “She did what she was told with me—with anyone. She played it straight.” Kazimir turned around. “We don’t mention this to Valentina.”

  “What about Em?”

  “She already knows.”

  They were getting closer, Em and Kazimir. I wasn’t sure if that made me happy or sad. Looking at the ballerina’s suite, Kazimir definitely knew how to take care of his women. If he fell in love with Em, we would never have to work again. She’d be taken care of, and I would just be on her right, protecting her.

  We’d be made for life.

  But who am I kidding? Em is totally going to fuck this up somehow.

  Kazimir grabbed my attention. “When we get to Moscow, I want you to check out Olesya’s apartment. I’d set her up there—”

  “And she was only a weekend thing?”

  “Not even that. More like Saturdays, but that didn’t matter. She needed to be on call, so I made sure she was, by providing her livelihood and a place to stay.”

  I snorted. “That’s on some rich-man-fuck-buddy shit right there.”

  For the first time, Kazimir smiled at me, and then the humor left his face. “Nevertheless, Valentina doesn’t need to know, until I know everything.”

  And what if I’m hiding shit for her? Does that count too?

  “I want you to talk to Olesya’s roommate too,” Kazimir said.

  “Why?”

  “She may know something. The roommate is in the penthouse I bought Olesya in St. Petersburg.” Kazimir checked his watch. “When we get to Moscow, you’ll have an apartment. There, you can keep anything hidden.”

  “An apartment?”

  “Yes, and a man. Let’s call him your driver and guard.”

  “Or person that will be following me and reporting back to you.”

  “You have no more than a week to figure it out. It shouldn’t be difficult. You’ve already gotten Valentina’s confidence.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “If Oleg left her with you, then you’ve proven your loyalty to both of them.” Kazimir eyed me. “How did you do that?”

  “I did it with my charm and good looks.”

  Kazimir didn’t find that funny at all. “Get it done, Maxwell, and I’ll continue to owe you.”

  “What do I do, if I figure out who it is?”

  “You tell me.”

  “And then what?”

  “That’s it.”

  “I may need more leeway than that.”

  “No. You won’t. In fact, I’m not sure, if Em has made you aware of this, but I’m not a fan of questions or leeway.” He stared at me. “Do we have an understanding?”

  “Yes, sir.” I saluted. “Apparently, I’m here at the behest of the Emperor.”

  “I’m starting to see that the Harlem Crew has problems with teamwork.” Kazimir walked off.

  Teamwork? Your sister killed your ex, and you want me to do what? Prove why she did it. Why? It sounds like either way my ass might be caught between two guns.

  I stood in a room reeking of death.

  Valentina killed the balle
rina. It had to be her. I didn’t know why, but I knew how. The hotel was barely ten minutes from the castle. She left the feast, changed in my room, tied the ballerina up, maybe read the children’s book, and killed her.

  The children’s book? Where is that?

  I rushed out of the room and tapped a uniformed man on the shoulder. “Hey, was there a children’s book in here?”

  Kazimir had been leaving the suite, but he stood in the doorway and watched.

  The man shook his head, not understanding anything I was saying.

  “Vasilia?” I asked and formed an invisible book with my hand. “Vasilia the beautiful. Did you find a children’s book here?”

  Kazimir stepped back in and spoke to them in Czech. The man nodded his head and pointed to the table. On it, the children’s book sat in a bag. It was the same one, but it had been covered in blood.

  The man spoke more to Kazimir.

  I looked at him. “What did he say?”

  Kazimir shook his head. “Apparently, the book was shoved up…well…up her anus.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  I see Valentina isn’t a fan of children’s books.

  She did it. I didn’t confess that to Kazimir. I had to talk to her first. She’d let me touch her pussy. There was a certain loyalty to that.

  Fuck, Valentina. What did you get me involved in? And why do that to a perfectly good book?

  “How did you know about the book?” Kazimir asked.

  “I’m a fan of Russian fairytales.” I left him there. Thankfully, he didn’t push it anymore.

  You don’t have time to bother me about this now. You’re still dealing with your brother and Em’s craziness. Have fun with that shit.

  Act Three

  Definition of Dirty

  2: : to stain with dishonor.

  dirty reputation

  dirty life

  Sixteen

  Emily

  In my dream, a lion lay asleep in a forest. Blue moonlight bathed him in a pale glow, making his tan fur appear magical. His huge head rested on his paws, and a breeze whisked through my hair. I gazed up. The sky was pink and the stars a bright gold. Thick silence filled the air.

  No crickets sounded. Nor birds or any other creatures.

  But the lion slept.

  And I wasn’t scared; I was intrigued. Enchanted. Thrilled by such a beautiful beast. Dangerous, yet peaceful. Sharp and wild, yet calm and gentle.

  I walked his way, barefoot and naked. Fog curled along my legs. A drumming sounded from the beast’s chest as he snored.

  With no fear, I touched his nose. Roused from his sleep, the lion caught me in his massive paw.

  No!

  Slowly, he opened those huge lids. My heart boomed. His gold eyes blazed even hotter than the stars in the pink sky.

  No longer was I intrigued. Now, I feared for my life. And it wasn’t a tiny scare. Cold terror scraped against my insides. I shivered in his hold.

  “Let me go,” I begged.

  The lion’s jaw formed into an alien-like smile. His gold eyes melted to red. His body became huge, doubling in size. He was more monster than lion. More killer than gentle creature.

  “Please,” I cried. “Let me go!”

  A dark thunderous voice left his jaw, outlined with saw-sharp teeth. “No, mysh!”

  I woke up, covered in sweat and in an empty bed. My chest rose and fell at a quickened pace. I checked under the pillow and remembered I didn’t have any knives under there.

  It’s okay.

  I scanned the room, studying it and doing my best to remember where I was. An engine hummed under me. The lovely scent of Kaz hit my nostrils.

  The train to Moscow.

  When we’d loaded Valentina’s plane last night, Kaz had whispered something to Maxwell and then guided me off. Shocked had covered everyone’s face, including mine.

  We’d watched the plane take off.

  Another car had arrived within seconds. The driver had handed Kaz the keys and he opened the passenger door for me. “We’re taking the train instead.”

  “Okay.” I climbed in. “How long does it take?”

  “Twenty-seven hours. It’ll give us time to think.” He shut the door and got to the other side.

  I looked at him in shock. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drive before.”

  He started, shifted the gear, smiled, and sped off.

  “Shit.” I rushed to put on my seatbelt. “You drive exactly how I figured you would.”

  “Like a crazy man?”

  We spun past one plane and zig zagged around airport security.

  “Exactly!” I’d shut my eyes as he sped the rest of the way.

  We’d gotten to the train fast, and to my surprise, he’d bought all the tickets. We had the entire train to ourselves, besides the staff.

  And where are you now?

  Naked, I rose from the bed and grabbed the red silk robe that had already been waiting for me in our train car. There were also tons of luggage full of any clothing item a female could desire—sexy to active, evening gowns to suits. Everything looked to be in my size and if not an exact fit, damn close.

  But the funnier part of the cabin’s surprise was all the boxes of wigs that lay on the right. All high-end. All untouched. Every one with different textures and styles. On the right were blueprints to Kaz’s home. But, it was more of a castle—twice the size of his Uncle Igor’s. Red labels pointed to secret security tunnels and exits that not even his staff probably knew about.

  “This is all yours.” Kazimir slipped his finger along one of the wig boxes. “Now you can hide all you want.”

  I studied his face.

  He hit me with a heated gaze. “Just don’t disappear from me.”

  “Never.”

  It took me a few minutes to shower and get dressed. Checking my watch, I figured we’d be in Moscow soon.

  I hope Max and X are okay.

  X’s body was on the plane in the cargo area. Kaz had given Max the money to start the cremation process in Moscow. That was one of Max’s jobs. Apparently, the other was to figure out why the ballerina was killed.

  Don’t think about her.

  Although I didn’t think she should’ve been killed, I held a twinge of jealousy. It was irrational, but still I found that when dealing with my heart, I didn’t have as much control as usual.

  When I finished dressing, I slid the cabin door open and walked down a long corridor of an empty car. I glanced out of the long windows. An interesting terrain greeted my eyes. Rugged mountains had given way to lush green hilltops crowded with tiny homes. They looked like tiny villages scattered along many hills, and the further the train sped along, some of the hills gave way to farmland—crops I’d never seen in its natural state.

  “The train will get us there tomorrow.” Kaz pulled me into an embrace. “We’ll pass Poland, Belarus, and then end in Russia.”

  “Moscow.”

  He ran his fingers through my hair. “And then we’ll be busy, so enjoy this ride.”

  “I’ll try to figure out a way.” I slipped my fingers down to the bulge in his pants.

  “Oh, mysh. I really enjoy traveling with you.”

  We made love and feasted on succulent dishes. Things I’d never heard of—potato dumplings drowning in a spicy beef sauce with a side of fried cheese. Rabbit roasted with root vegetables and garlic. Fruit dumplings floating in cinnamon and wine. And even though I’d been stuffed with food, I’d let Kaz spoon feed me delicious mouthfuls of chocolate-smothered nuts over wafers and cream.

  We ate.

  We fucked.

  We planned.

  And repeated over and over until I’d decided that I no longer enjoyed plane travel. The train was the way to go from now on.

  “I’ll buy you a train, when this is all done.”

  “No.” I kissed him. “I’ll buy you a train, when this is all done.”

  He grinned. “No woman has ever given me a gift.”

  �
�Lies?”

  “Truth.”

  “Why not?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve never gotten close enough to any woman for her to know what I want.”

  “Good.”

  We slept for a while in between breaks of caressing and whispering, plotting and snacking. I’d learned more about his world than I thought I would ever know.

  The Bratva was more than impressive. The overlapping networks of gangs spread throughout the globe. There was no country the Bratva did not touch. And there was no crime his men did not have a hand in.

  Where are you, baby?

  Three empty train cars down, I still had not found Kaz, but I did see the dining car. I remained there, transfixed by the new scenery rushing by the windows.

  I walked over to one and pressed my hands against the glass.

  How did I get here?

  Each day had been dreams and nightmares mingling together in thousands of surreal moments.

  What does a normal day look like anymore?

  Although I heard no movement or door slide open, I felt Kaz before I saw him.

  I turned his way. A sudden rush of desire poured over me.

  I leaned back to better appreciate the view. “There you go.”

  His hair lay in a sexy tangle around his shoulders. His shirt was off. Sunlight bathed his muscles in light, tall, huge, and powerful. Built by God to dominate and have every woman begging for a turn.

  I knew I was spoiled by him, but I whispered anyway, “I don’t like waking up without you.”

  “Then, it won’t happen again.” He padded over on bare feet, effortlessly seducing me. Promise blazed in his gaze. His hand went to my hair, yanking the pony tail out and letting the strands fall over the sides of my face. “What did you dream about?”

  “A lion.”

  His cheek tweaked. “A big one?”

  “Very big and powerful.”

  “I like this lion.”

  “And I was me, but very naked.”

  “As you should be.” When he came close, he caught me by the waist and pulled me to him. “And what did the lion do to you, when you came to him naked?”

  “He caught me.” I wrapped my arms on his shoulders. “But then the dream sort of turned into a nightmare.”

  He inhaled me, brushing his nose against my cheeks and then up to my forehead. “How did it become a nightmare?”

 

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