Dirty Passions

by Wright, Kenya

  At the mention of Aunt Fanya, her beautiful face popped in my head.

  Uncle Igor had a wife named Frances. We’d called her Fanya. No matter how much money they made, she baked bread every day. No matter how many men she helped him kill, she danced at night and sung beautiful hymns in the morning.

  I considered her my second mother.

  And then one night, my uncle’s enemies settled a problem with him. They took Aunt Fanya from his home while he was away with me on business. They raped and beat her, mutilated and gutted her tiny frame.

  When we returned, she hung from a tree. Her eyes had been dug out with a knife. Fox heads lay in a circle around her. She’d been dangling from the tree for a while. Worms, birds, and spiders covered and crawled, snipping and snapping, feeding and nesting.

  Rolan interrupted my thoughts. “The Knights of Babylon told Igor that if he asked any more questions, they would kill his wife. He didn’t stop. . .”

  I blinked. “Are you saying that the Knights of Babylon killed Aunt Fanya? I thought it was another group—”

  “Igor said what he had to. Killed who he needed to, and did his best to move on, but. . .I am sure it was the Knights of Babylon. We have no proof, and no one ever confessed.” Rolan shook his head. “After her death, Igor decided to make a cult of his own, but it never stuck. He went mad.”

  Rolan stared off as if he was looking at the past play out in front of him.

  I remembered that time.

  Uncle Igor had shifted to madness after that. He buried Aunt Fanya inside of the castle, built a stage around her tomb, put a throne on top of where her body rested, and there he sat.

  He was no longer the same. He never left Prague, never ventured away from his castle much or that odd throne as if to leave, would be to leave her forever.

  Emily turned to me. “Maybe Rolan is right. The mark is new.”

  I gripped the desk. “But, who would’ve had possession of this picture? And why would someone put that mark on it?”

  Rolan flipped it back over to the image. “You said someone was killed because they had it?”

  Emily spoke, “One of my men was murdered. He found it somehow. Someone realized it, and then killed him. But all of this is guesses. I don’t know the true story.”

  “Not many know the true story about Fela. Most of the people who do are dead. And think of the ones that are alive,” Rolan said. “Timur, Fela, and me. That’s it.”

  “You think Fela may have had this picture?” I asked.

  “It would be strange, but yet Fela was the sort to use pain as a motivator for success. He would have had access to the picture. He sat as a dog in that office. After he killed Adrik, the whole house was burned down. I could see him taking the picture and keeping it as a constant reminder to never trust the brotherhood.”

  “That makes sense.” Emily nodded. “X always said that great men and women are born due to moments of pain.”

  I let go of my glass and placed my hands on the desk. “Let’s say Fela had the picture. Who would have taken it from him?”

  “No one would have taken it from Fela.” Rolan sipped his vodka. “If he had it, then he was the one to put the photo back in our hands. . .or had someone do it.”

  “I don’t know.” Emily tapped the desk again. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. But let’s go back to your man getting killed.” Rolan pushed the photo in my direction. “Regardless of how it got to the killer, who else wouldn’t want someone to know about this picture? Who would be the most disgusted and embarrassed? Who would be the most scared?”

  I gritted my teeth. “Zahkar. There’s no one else. I’ve suspected as much, but wanted to talk to you first.”

  “You simply didn’t want to think of him just yet.” Rolan gave me a sad smile. “Are you tired of friends stabbing you in the back, yet?”

  “I am.”

  “I was there long ago when Igor tattooed those stars on your shoulders. Do you remember what he told you about this position?”

  “Yes.” I nodded. “He said I should always wear armor because someone will always stab me in my back.”

  Rolan put his hand on his chest. “And they’ll stab you deep within your heart. Money and power. It does things to humans. It makes us wrong when we should be right.”

  Emily shook her head. “Well, I’m not going to deal with anymore backstabbers while I’m around. They can’t get to him without coming for me. This ends now.”

  “Don’t shoot me. I come in peace.” Rolan raised both hands in the air. “However. . .this is why the monkeys and gorillas have appeared.”

  Emily’s bottom lip quivered.

  “Someone is coming for the position yet again. They see a great moment to be the head of the brotherhood.” Rolan lowered his hands. “But when the lion met the mouse, the lion became stronger. More protected. So, the mouse needs to disappear. Be gone, frightened, or even killed. If not, then Kazimir will have no weak spots anymore and his position will be solidified.”

  And here I thought that Emily had been my weakness—a target for my enemies. I’d based it off of Uncle Igor’s tragedy with his wife. But with life came illusions and misspoken facts. Uncle Igor had lied to us all. He’d walked a dark path searching for spirituality within a secret, powerful cult. They killed Aunt Fanya. Too embarrassed for what he’d done, he blamed her death on his enemies.

  No wonder he sat on that throne with her body under it, surrounding himself around fools. Needing to think that it had all been worth it somehow. Or was he trying to show the Knights of Babylon that he in fact, was worthy? Maybe he hoped to get their attention and kill them.

  None of it mattered anymore.

  I now knew more than ever that Emily served as my strength, not my weakness. And my enemies knew her great power.

  And they were all scared.

  Good.

  I finished my vodka.

  “Are we done?” Rolan frowned.

  “We are.”

  “Do not call me again asking stupid questions from the past. Call me for a celebration. Call me to travel, but never about photos of chained men and symbols of men that drink blood.” Rolan rose and stormed away.

  “Uncle?” I smirked. “We can make this up to you. Let us take you out to eat.”

  “No.” Rolan was already at the door. “I have a sweetheart waiting for me in Saint Petersburg. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s mine. I don’t want anyone else around her.”

  I shook my head. “Happy hunting, Uncle.”

  He waved goodbye and left.

  Emily took the box of candy, opened it, and bit into one. “This is good.”

  “Rolan knows his candy.”

  She nibbled on another piece. “Now what?”

  “We go to Zahkar. Who else could it be?”

  She licked chocolate off the tip of her fingers. “If Zahkar killed Yuri and his mother. . .”

  “Then, I give him to you.”

  She paused from the candy. “You will?”

  “If Zahkar is guilty of murdering Yuri, then he’s yours to handle.”

  “I won’t be gentle.”

  “That’s fair.” I grabbed a piece of candy. “Let’s just make sure that Zahkar actually did it.”

  She rose, eager to deal with this.

  Tension thickened my shoulders. At this moment, the love of my life would be going after two of my childhood friends—Zahkar over Yuri’s death and Abram due to the brothel in Kapotnya. My mouse was fair and smart. If she sniffed problems with either of them, then she would want them out of the picture and nowhere near me. All her moves meant my safety in the end. And for that, I would stand by her, when it came to desiring anyone’s death.

  But part of me wondered, if I should worry.

  Without Emily at my side, there would have been no problem with Zahkar or Abram. I would have had them by my side. Close. Too damn close. Eventually, I could see one of the two lying. If they had plotted up until now, then they would plot even
more.

  Thank God for my mysh.

  She had proven herself to be a useful detector of traitors within the midst. Back stabbers lurking within the shadows to take my place.

  But wasn’t that how one found snakes. . .by putting out a mouse?

  While she wasn’t my bait, her mere presence was slowly challenging and luring out my enemies.

  I must keep her safe and close.

  Chapter 28

  Enemies

  Emily

  The French and the Knights of Babylon. The Italians and the Nigerians. The bloody present and the blurry past. The more we gained pieces to the puzzle, the less the image became clear.

  At this point, I was starting to understand why Kaz just bombed a whole place and moved on to the next situation. It was much easier that way. But we couldn’t destroy the whole brotherhood. He needed his men, and some were his family. Not all represented enemies. Many were devoted. A lot would die for him. Unfortunately, deep within the brotherhood’s shadows existed some that would do anything to take his place.

  I won’t let that happen.

  Kaz had Pavel search out Zahkar. We didn’t want him to know that we were coming, so we kept our purpose private.

  We had lunch out on the balcony. The penthouse chef explained to me that it was a classic Russian lunch. For the first course was a traditional borscht—Russian beetroot soup made with beef, cabbage, carrots, potatoes, onion, and beets. A spoonful of sour cream topped the red liquid. When I mixed it all in, a pleasant magenta color came.

  The second course consisted of Russian manti—lamb filled dumplings, steamed to perfection. More sour cream was dropped on top.

  The third course followed. It was kompot—a non-alcoholic drink made by boiling fruit in water. With that, we feasted on tiny cakes. While the sweets teased the tongue, the true winner represented the kompot. The chef beamed from my enjoyment, telling me that he’d made this one with strawberries, apricots, peaches, and gooseberries. Cinnamon was sprinkled on top to finish the dish.

  At the end of lunch, Pavel came out to the balcony with a location.

  Ten minutes later, Kaz and I headed that way with most of our men. Boris and Max stayed behind to organize a plan against Abram and shutting down his brothel.

  Pavel also remained at the penthouse.

  Zahkar, Pavel, and my lion had all grown up together. We didn’t know what would come from this meeting with Zahkar, but if things went dark, it would be best if Pavel was there.

  King David had proven time and time again to be Kaz’s most trusted man. Therefore, David and his crew rode in separate cars and followed.

  Hand-in-hand, we left the penthouse.

  Above us, a storm thundered and boomed. Clouds grayed. A chilly breeze brushed by.

  Kaz opened the limo door. “Are you sure you don’t need a nap, mysh?”

  “How could I need a nap with all the excitement happening? We may be done with this whole mystery.” I climbed inside. “What is this place that Zahkar is at?”

  “It’s a gentlemen’s club called, Crystal Heaven.”

  “A strip club?” I checked my watch. “Lunch barely finished and he’s already there.”

  “In Moscow, many business transactions are carried out in gentlemen’s clubs.”

  I scowled at him. “Make sure you carry your business out in one of your many offices.”

  “Hmmm.” He climbed in and shut the door. “No more strip clubs for me?”

  “Not female ones.”

  He opened his mouth in shock. “Mysh, are you saying I’m only allowed to go in clubs where the men are the dancers?”

  “Basically.”

  “I will not.”

  “Fine by me.”

  He laughed.

  The limo sped off.

  Kaz put his arm around me.

  I smirked. “Maxwell will be pissed that he’s missing a strip club visit.”

  “I’ve heard that Max and David have gone to enough clubs this week.”

  “That sounds like my Max.” I leaned against Kaz’s hard, muscular body.

  The world outside the limo darkened as the storm picked up. Although early, the streetlights came on. Further out, fog slithered and twirled around the cars.

  I relished the comfort of Kaz’s arms.

  “Mysh?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve been thinking. You are my strength.”

  “Of course I am. I would die for you.”

  “No. You don’t die for me. I die for you.”

  “How about we do everything to live?” I motioned to my stomach. “Since we have someone depending on us.”

  He kissed my cheek. “Fair point.”

  I grinned. “However let’s go back to you saying that I’m your strength.”

  “You are and because of that I’m going to give you control of the questioning with Zahkar.”

  I widened my eyes. “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve always believed in signs. Always looked to the universe for deeper meanings and guidance. Now. . .I believe you are here for me. You’re my guidance. My finder of truth. And you’re more than just the gorgeous woman that warms my heart or the woman who will give me beautiful children.”

  “Children?”

  “You are the one that finds the snakes and brings them to their knees.”

  “That’s a position I would love. Anybody that’s after you, I want to get rid of.”

  He studied me. Love filled those eyes. “This is new for me. I’m not used to having such a sexy and loyal protector.”

  “You do have men that will die for you. Not all of them are disloyal.”

  “True. But they serve me to a certain point, mysh. You. . .you are more than my partner-in-crime. More than my lover. More than a girlfriend, or even a wife-to-be. More than the mother of my child.” He pulled me closer to him. “What can I call you? What would be the word that could define what you truly are to me?”

  My heart warmed. “When you find out that word, let me know. I’ll need to use it for you as well.”

  “Today, I’ll do something that is very difficult for me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ll give you more control than ever before. Let you. . .stand on the frontline more.”

  “I’ll be safe.”

  He frowned. “You better be. I can’t live without you.”

  I lay within his arms, knowing that this would be a major sacrifice for him. And due to that, I would bend to his will even more. He wanted me out of trouble. He needed me around his men, protected and telling him all my steps. From this day on, I would do as he asked, understanding that it wasn’t just about possession—it was all out of love.

  Still leaning against his chest, I looked up at him. “What does Zahkar mean?”

  “The remembrance of God.”

  “And what do people call him in the brotherhood?”

  “The Colonel. He barks at his men like one. And he always wanted to join the military, but his mother forbid it.”

  “Do you think Zahkar shares his father’s feelings toward black people?”

  “I hope not. I never saw any of that sort of behavior from him, when we grew up. Not that there were many black people around us in Siberia.”

  “And not in Prague either?”

  “Not that I remember.” He landed a soft kiss against my cheek. “We all lived before the internet, before this unlimiting global connection. Now it is impossible not to meet someone from another race, another religion, another belief system. Now it’s a crime to be ignorant in this age where knowledge can be consumed as fast as one drinks a glass of water.”

  “You’re right.”

  A half an hour later, we made it to Crystal Heaven with no problem.

  When the limo arrived at the gentlemen’s club, a valet hurried over, holding an umbrella.

  The valet opened the door. “Mr. Solonik, welcome back. It has been a while.”

  “Hmmm.” I huffed on Kaz’s side.
/>   Kaz chuckled and left the limo.

  The valet smiled. “Will you want your usual table with the same amount of women.”

  “No, he’s fine.” I rolled my eyes.

  Of course, Kaz would be a regular here with a table and certain amount of women.

  I scanned the place, hoping to get rid of the attitude that rose. I wasn’t usually a jealous woman, but Kaz had brought it out of me many times. I took in the outside. The lot was as full as one would imagine a strip club would be. Expensive cars crowded around the building.

  With a wicked grin, Kaz took my arm and whispered, “My visits to Crystal Heaven were before you. Another time. Another lion.”

  “Let’s hope the females in here understand that.”

  “I kind of like the idea of you being jealous.”

  “Trust me. You don’t want to see me jealous for too long.”

  “Why not?”

  “It involves a good amount of blood.”

  “Hmmm. Now you’re just talking dirty to me.” He leaned my way, nipped at my bottom lip, and guided me forward.

  Music boomed from the inside.

  The valet pulled the door open for us.

  We stepped into the noise. The crowd of men were wall-to-wall. Six small stages were all over the place. There was a different nude woman on each. I had expected something sleazy, but it was as high-end as a club could be. It was also much bigger inside than it looked.

  Red chandeliers dangled from the ceiling. White curtains covered all of the walls. Black plush lounge chairs were scattered throughout the space where men sat, dressed in designer suits.

  Rock music filled the air in waves. The sound rushed in for a little and then pulled back. The bass held a heavy beat. The tempo stayed lively tempo, and all the butt naked women moved rhythmically to the sound.

  Wow. Max said they wore no clothes. No wonder he’s in these places every night. Just his sort of party.

  Not one piece of fabric covered any inch of the exotic dancers. And they weren’t bad to look at either. Gorgeous. All of them were works of art—shapely thighs and voluptuous breasts. Long hair and perfect makeup. They twisted and turned, shook their asses and jiggled their breasts. And all of them—every last one—waved at Kaz with excitement in their eyes.