We crashed together.
When we finished, he gently lay me down on the bed and whispered, “Are you hungry?”
I did my best to catch my breath. “Yes.”
With his fingertip, he drew an intricate pattern around my navel. “What do you want?”
“Anything.”
Something wicked lay in his eyes. “Pick a cuisine.”
“What are you up to?”
“Pick, mysh.”
I stretched my arms. “French or Italian would be good.”
He grinned. “Which one?”
I shook my head. “Kaz?”
“Which one?”
I thought about it for a few seconds. “French.”
“Then, I’ll take you to the best French spot I know.”
“O-kay.”
What is he doing now?
“Give me a few minutes to get dressed and talk to my men.” He kissed me and then left. “Get ready.”
I watched him walk away. That muscled ass flexed with his step.
What are you up to now, Kazimir?
Chapter 7
Kazimir
That didn’t go exactly how I wanted, but I’ll take it.
With only a robe on, I headed downstairs to my office and showered in that bathroom. Emily had clouded my head. While I was victorious enough with our discussion, she’d gotten her way too.
I need to clear my head. We both need to clear our heads.
When I finished, I dried off and dressed in the office. Odd, but necessary. Even after having my fill of my mouse, I still wanted more. My cock had still been hard the whole time.
Dangerous. I always knew, but I didn’t think about how addictive she would be too.
I checked my watch. Barely thirty minutes had passed since we’d made love. I didn’t want to keep her waiting, but I needed time to think.
So much is going on. So much needs to be handled. And all I want to do hold her in my arms. We need a vacation.
Now wasn’t the time for that, and I’d never taken a real vacation before.
Now, more than ever, territories needed to be divided. I also had to pick my main men. Misha was supposed to be my top guy, but no one could find him. Everyone had been searching all over St. Petersburg. The only news I’d gathered was that his ballerina would be performing this evening. Someone would have to fly out and wait outside the theater to catch him.
I don’t care what’s going on over there. You need to be here. Your father is gone. How do you want to bury him? So many are dead. Which position do you want to pick up?
Deep in the back of my head, I knew Misha wouldn’t be excited about having a stronger position within the brotherhood. But duty should prevail. He had to know how much I needed him.
In the middle of that, someone has threatened my mouse.
She’d gotten pissed and began to build an army. If I didn’t focus on that problem and solve it soon, I would find several of my brothers sliced and diced all over Moscow. The Tinder Killer situation might be revived. It would get the wrong attention.
I remembered the photos of the Tinder Killer victims.
Leave it to me to fall in love with a serial killer.
Lovable and small as she was, Emily still needed to be handled with caution.
There weren’t going to be many monkey head surprises before she burned the whole city down. And, in all honesty, I would help her light the match. I loved my city, but I was falling in love with her more.
I just need a few days. We need a few days of peace.
Someone knocked at the door. I had my pants and shirt on. “Come in.”
Zahkar entered.
I grabbed my jacket. “You’re still here.”
“I assumed Misha would arrive soon.”
“And how have you been spending your time?”
“In that pool of yours.”
I nodded. “Feel free to remain. I have a problem.”
“I’m here to help, and you do need some new people close by.”
Zahkar, you’re so eager to be at my side, but do you know how difficult it is?
“Someone’s threatening my mouse.”
Shock hit Zahkar’s face. I studied him, wondering if it was real or not. Whoever put those monkey heads on the bed had been in my house that evening. Did they do it while we were all occupied in the ballroom? It would’ve made a lot of sense. Even the staff had been busy.
The video footage of the first hour during the party was missing. My security team had no answers. It was clear this person was covering his tracks.
But who? And can I trust Zahkar to figure it out?
“What did they do?” he asked.
“They cut off monkey heads and placed them on my bed.”
Zahkar widened his eyes. “I’m surprised you didn’t murder us all this morning.”
“I considered it.”
But I need you all. So many have died already.
“Threatening the mouse?” Zahkar paced on the other side of the desk. “That’s a very dangerous move.”
“It is.”
“How did they get into your house?”
“Perhaps the party.”
“Or they already had access?”
“That’s what you will find out.”
Zahkar stopped pacing and looked at me. “Is this why the mouse is building an army?”
“It’s not an army, and it’s none of your concern what she’s doing.”
Zahkar placed his hands in his pockets. “What can I do?”
“Find out who did it. Any information you find you give it to me.”
“I’m surprised you won’t be handling this personally.”
Me too, but my mouse won’t let me focus. She’s too busy getting into bare knuckle fights and putting together soldiers.
Emily and her men against any Bratva member—no matter how guilty he could be—would cause a huge division within the brotherhood, one I didn’t need at this time. That being said, I would let her kill whoever cut the monkey heads, but we would need clear proof. She couldn’t just go off hacking people around Moscow based on gut feelings.
I chose not to tell this to Zahkar. I was still reacquainting myself with him. It had been many years since our reunion.
This is your first test. Let’s see if you can pass it.
I turned back to him. “I’m putting you on this matter.”
“Okay.” His eyes brightened with excitement. “I’ll find out who did it. Don’t worry about that.”
“I’m taking Emily away for a few days. She needs a...vacation.”
Anything to keep her calm and get her mind off of this. Why did I think she would sit back and let me handle it?
“Where will you go?” Zahkar asked.
“It’s not important.” I buttoned my jacket. “The monkey heads are still in our lab. Go there. Find something that will lead you to the man. Check my staff. Pavel questioned them, but I believe you’ll get the answers I need.”
“How...persuasive can I be?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Don’t kill or harm my staff unless it’s clear they’ve had something to do with it.”
He straightened his face. “Of course, Kazimir. I will respect them.”
“I want the name of the person who put those heads on the bed, and I want it before we return.”
“How long will you be?”
“I don’t know.”
“Have you seen the news, Kazimir?”
“No. Why?”
“Riots have begun all over Russia. The people are out in the streets.”
That’s why Smirnov has been sending his general to my house. He’s seeking the Bratva’s help with the protest. Could the universe just give me one problem at a time? I don’t need to battle President Smirnov now too.
I groaned. “Focus on the monkey heads. I’ll deal with President Smirnov.”
“And Misha?”
“Pavel is going to get him.”
“I’ve heard he’s you
r number two.” Zahkar shook his head. “Pavel can’t leave your side. You need other men around you—”
“I have my guards.”
Worry creased on Zahkar’s face. “You’ll need a lot more than that. And you may not want to hear it, but at least take my men wherever you go. We don’t need to lose you. No one else can get the brotherhood united right now.”
Honesty hung in his words. In his eyes, there was real anxiety and even compassion.
Zahkar would be good by my side.
I nodded. “I’ll take some of your men with me.”
“And will the mouse’s men go?”
My brightened mood left. “No. They’ll stay here. She needs a break from them.”
“I think they should go. It wouldn’t hurt to have extra men around her especially with someone threatening her with monkey heads.”
I gritted my teeth. “I can take care of her myself.”
Zahkar sighed. “Okay.”
“Just focus on who did it.”
“I’ll have answers for you soon.”
“Good.” I walked up to him and patted his shoulder. “Don’t disappoint me. If you can find the one responsible, I’ll give you anything you want.”
Zahkar’s voice lowered. “What I want is to be on your right.”
“Then, do what a right-hand man does. Find that asshole.”
“And when I find him, can I kill him?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Give him to my mouse.”
“What will she do?”
“Things you would never want to dream of.” Chuckling, I patted his shoulder again and headed away.
“Where are you going?”
“To my favorite French spot.”
“And after that?”
“Wherever the hell I want.”
Chapter 8
Emily
I met Kazimir downstairs an hour later.
While I worried for protecting our future, apparently my man planned to party.
Dressed in a slate gray suit, white shirt, and silver tie, Kazimir took my breath away. I checked to see if my mouth hung open.
Why the hell am I worried about monkey head guy if he isn’t? Damn, he’s fine. Just forget about it for now and enjoy the moment.
Outwardly oblivious to his effect on my body, he greeted me with a soft kiss. His finger followed the curve of my cheek. A shiver of lust snaked up my spine. I closed my eyes, waiting it out. Kazimir linked his other arm around my waist. I swore I felt the same shiver in him as soon as he touched me again.
He grunted. “We should’ve showered together.”
I opened my eyes. “We never leave the house after we shower together.”
“That’s fair.” He drank me in.
I’d worn a black dress and no wig since he liked to yank it off and play with my real hair. I’d flat-ironed the tresses and let them hang past my shoulders.
He slipped his fingers through my hair. “We should go now, before we don’t leave the house again.”
“We should.”
We left the second floor of his home—our home. Many of the staff passed us. Freshly folded towels filled the maids’ arms. A few giggled at Kaz as we walked by. Another swooned.
Oblivious yet again, Kazimir kept my fingers entwined with his as we descended to the first floor. “You’ll love this place. The food is perfect.”
“Awesome.”
“Are you super hungry?” He eyed me. “I’ve already made you wait long enough, and it’ll take some time to get there.”
“No. I can wait for a while.”
“Good. The limo is outside.”
Of course, we’re going by limo. I may never take an Uber again.
I was beginning to catch onto the rhythm of his life—limo time for public functions or moments when he wanted to spoil me. Expensive sports cars were for romantic one-on-ones or missions involving just us. Private planes for emergency trips and travel. Trains for secrecy and fucking. And the helicopter was simply to avoid rush hour traffic.
I tightened my grip in his, anchoring myself to the only thing in his world that was real to me.
Kazimir. How did I ever live without you?
He turning his attention to his man guarding the foyer. “Is everything in place?”
The guy nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Another man came on his right. “Another general has arrived with a message from President Smirnov.”
“I already told him I don’t have the time to talk.”
“He said this was urgent and from the president.”
Kazimir stared at the guard as if he was considering whether he should kill him.
The guard backed away. “I’ll tell him you’re unable to talk.”
“Thank you.”
The guy opened the door for us and hurried away.
The limo launched into traffic, taking us to Kaz’s favorite French spot. It didn’t matter to me where it was. All I wanted was to be with him. We could’ve driven in circles, and I would’ve happily lay in his arms.
This is why people fall in love. Now I get it.
The sun set over this majestic city I’d slowly been falling in love with. With Russia’s long history of volatility and turbulence, it was odd to find beauty here. But there it lay, in every colorful dome. I’d discovered some of the most stunning buildings. They were picturesque.
Even Moscow’s underground was breathtaking. Kazimir had taken me to a stop on the Moscow Metro, Mayakovskaya—a stop on the Zamoskvoretskaya Line that had been named for a Russian poet. Later, during World War II, it had been used as an air raid shelter.
Kaz had told me Mayakovskaya was considered one of the most beautiful subway stations in the entire Moscow Metro system. I’d agreed. Perhaps it was the most elegant subway station in the world. The ceiling featured thirty-four mosaics detailing the twenty-four hours in a Soviet day. Gleaming floors and Art Deco columns ran the length of the station.
Kazimir had even taken me to the Red Square. I’d researched the history. Ivan the Terrible had ordered a church built in 1555 known as St. Basil’s Cathedral. The Russian Orthodox building, which originally incorporated eight other churches, had a unique Byzantine design. There were onion domes of varying heights that resembled the flames of a bonfire.
“Lenin loved the church,” Kaz had said. “However, Stalin being Stalin hated it. He’d even ordered it to be demolished.”
“What happened?”
“It was saved at the last minute and is now a museum.”
Kazimir kept life exciting, constantly introducing me to new things and making me hyped to wake up for a new day.
Even now as I gazed out of the window, I wore a silly grin that would’ve made Maxwell joke on me for a week.
Wait. What’s going on here?
The setting of Moscow had changed since I’d been in the city days ago. Protestors blocked several streets. It had to be thousands of people. The limo slowed. We had to wait a few times and then make a U-turn toward the other direction.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “What are they protesting?”
“I don’t know.” Kazimir pulled out his phone, typed, and then pulled up a video.
“Excuse my ignorance, but I always got the impression protesting wouldn’t be a big thing in Russia.”
“You would think with all the news reporters and politicians that are mysteriously found dead, that would be true. But no threat of death could ever silence the people. They actually scream louder when blood is spilled.” He put his phone in front of us and pressed play on a video. “Here. This will tell us.”
“Russian police have already detained more than a 1,000 people in nationwide protests against a proposed government pension overhaul.” A reporter stood in front of a massive crowd screaming and waving signs behind him. “Protesters gathered in cities around Russia to rally against a government proposal to raise the country's retirement age.”
The camera panned out to men and women of different ages bein
g dragged away by police. More footage displayed protestors in cities all over Russia. I squinted at the words, pissed I hadn’t learned Russian fast enough.
“What do the signs say?” I asked.
“They say, ‘Smirnov, help us.’”
“These protests are seen as the first real challenge to the Kremlin for years.” The camera returned to the news reporter. “But the ongoing protests in President Tikhon Smirnov’s traditional heartland — places like Gukovo and St. Petersburg —may be the better measure of how deep current discontent runs in Russia.”
“Now I understand even more why Smirnov has been sending generals to my house. Pavel mentioned this earlier.” Kazimir shut off the phone. “Smirnov definitely wants me to help him.”
“Will you?”
“No. the only true way to help would be to force him to do the right thing.”
“Could you?”
“At times, I’ve been able to trick him into public good.” Kazimir twirled the ends of my hair. “At this moment, I don’t have the time. I’m very busy this evening.”
I smiled.
“And I’m not sure I like Smirnov anymore.” Kaz placed his arm around my shoulders. “Smirnov didn’t move fast enough on my situation with Sasha, and he had me kill my step-brother in the back of a restaurant like some second-class dog.”
“And if you let Smirnov get battered by the protests?”
“Then his grip on power unravels. The Kremlin will have its eyes on this.”
“I’m sorry to ask so many questions, but—”
“Nyet.” Kazimir held up his hand. “You need to learn everything you can. I want you to stand at my side.”
I focused on slow breaths.
“Luka is gone. I considered Misha, but I’ve been calling him for the last days and can’t get in touch with him. Besides, my relationship with Misha is sensitive and important to me. It would be better if we didn’t mix too much business together. He’s difficult and has a problem with privacy.” He placed his phone back in his pocket. “Do you have any idea what Maxwell is doing for Misha?”
“No.”
“I’m trying to send for them both soon.”
“Thank you. I want Maxwell here immediately.”
Dirty Hearts: The Lion and The Mouse (Book Three) Page 9