Dirty Hearts: The Lion and The Mouse (Book Three)

by Wright, Kenya

  Small? I doubt you have a small anything.

  “Why are you rolling your eyes?” he asked.

  “Make sure your suite is not too small. I’m a lady. I have standards. You may not get these panties, if it’s too small.”

  He chuckled. “Emily, I will fuck you whether the place is small or not.”

  “Oh really?”

  He pulled me into him and pressed his hard erection against my stomach.

  Jesus. Is he taking Viagra or something? If I’m not pregnant, I damn sure will be by the end of the month. Am I? Fuck. Could I be a mother? Damn it. I need to think—

  “Stop stressing,” he whispered.

  “Stop reading my mind.”

  “No.” He consumed my mouth. “When we get to my place, I want you down on your pretty hands and knees.”

  I leaned away from his lips and tossed him a wicked grin. “I don’t bow for anyone.”

  He growled, “You’ll bow for me.”

  Those words with that tone did delightful things to my pussy.

  Unfortunately, we didn’t exit Le Cuisine Perdue for another two hours. Kazimir hadn’t appreciated my challenging tone, so he showed me what I would do and how I would do it.

  And, in that restaurant, I was down on my hands and knees.

  Every wet, hard thrust felt so good. I knew without a doubt that we really did need a vacation. It was time to let go of the stress.

  There’s nothing to worry about.

  Chapter 11

  Kazimir

  I brought Emily to my suite in the Satin Butterfly. I’d never taken another woman there. And, with Emily, there would be no memories of other women lingering among the walls or stinking up the carpet. Everything had to be new, when it came to her.

  The Satin Butterfly was a posh boutique hotel. The perfect place for a lion to take his lover and mate.

  I grinned at the silly thought.

  Nestled in a quiet location, the Satin Butterfly was mid way between Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré and Montaigne. And it was a short walk to Champs-Elysees, where the heart of Paris beat.

  That night, we sipped champagne on the suite’s balcony, and I showed Emily the Grand Palais as well as that great metal erection pointing the sky—the Eiffel Tower.

  Emily was right to joke about my small comment. My suite was the opposite, more a tiny mansion than anything else. The hotel catered to the uber wealthy.

  Chandeliers bathed the suite’s vast spaces in light. The furniture reflected the reason for the price tag—rare woods and muted rich fabrics, marble fireplaces everywhere. More suites than rooms, and each suite had its own wine cellar stocked with the best. There was a library for Emily to read as much as she liked as well as a smoking lounge for me to pop out a cigar in the evening.

  How many days will we stay? Perhaps a week, if I’m lucky and my mouse is patient.

  That night, as Emily fell asleep naked in my arms, I imagined making love to her in the hotel’s inner courtyard. Lush greenery and chiseled trees bordered the paths. I’d already scheduled several spa appointments for her. She’d earned a massage and some pampering.

  We’ll finally get to relax.

  It was my last thought as I fell asleep.

  Early in the morning, my phone woke me up. Emily still slept safely in my arms.

  The phone rang again.

  It better be important.

  I gently moved her, grabbed my phone, and walked out onto the balcony. Two of my guards stood outside, armed and ready to break any intruder’s neck. They didn’t leave the area, but they gave me room for privacy as they edged closer to the railing.

  My phone rang for the third time.

  I answered, “Yes?”

  “There was another message for your mouse,” Zahkar said. “No one noticed until a maid screamed.”

  “More heads?”

  “Yes. This time it was a chimpanzee.”

  That was the last news I’d wanted to hear. “Was it in the same bedroom?”

  “No. The person put it in the new bedroom you both moved into.”

  So this person has someone inside my staff? They know our movements.

  Obviously thinking what I was, Zahkar asked, “I would like full permission to question your staff.”

  “You know you have it.”

  “I don’t want to be gentle. I saw what this person did. It was wrong, and this is not a threat that can be ignored.”

  “What did he do?”

  “There were a few monkey heads on the bed, but he added more to the message this time. He hung a female chimpanzee from the chandelier directly over your bed.”

  I gripped the phone hard.

  Zahkar continued, “I know it’s a female because it had just gone into labor or perhaps he cut the child out days later. But the dead baby was there too. It was tied to the mother’s arms with fishing line.”

  “Fishing line?”

  Edge hit Zahkar’s voice. “Yes. Now you know why I must act fast with your staff. Someone knows something.”

  The fishing line wasn’t by accident. It was a symbol within the brotherhood. The lesser ones. The ones with no code or moral. They used fishing line on women. Many had a fishing line tattooed on their chest and the line always caught a woman’s dress, telling the viewer he had a passion for rape. Men like that couldn’t be around me, and they no longer had a place in the brotherhood. If they existed, they hid.

  When I came on as the head of the brotherhood, the fishing line symbolism stopped. I didn’t even want my men to kill with it. If I allowed them to be passionate about rape and other lowly things, I wouldn’t be controlling men; I would be the boss of animals.

  And you dare put fishing line in your message to my mouse? Come out. Don’t hide in the shadows. Let me see your face.

  I did my best to keep the growl out of my voice. “Talk to the staff.”

  “In my way?”

  Pressure hit my chest. “Many are generations of my mother’s staff. Many of those will be loyal. Be careful with them. Unless one is suspicious.”

  “And the new staff.”

  I thought about the fishing line again. “I give you a free hand.”

  “The cameras were messed with.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “I could put my own people on security.”

  “Do it.”

  “And when will you two return?”

  “When I have a name.”

  “I think I should send her men to Paris. They’re getting in my way anyway and wandering around like lost children.”

  “It’s barely been a full 24 hours.”

  “Still, they’re acting like orphaned children, constantly asking me questions about her return.”

  “Focus on the piece of shit sending messages, and I’ll focus on her men.” I hung up and glared at the sky.

  One of my guards spoke on my side. “Sir, can I help you with anything?”

  “No. Not at this moment. Thank God we’re in Paris.”

  Had I seen that chimpanzee hanging, I might’ve killed my men just because...

  I considered what Emily would’ve done and shuddered. This new addition would not keep her calm. If anything, she would get more men and launch a full investigation.

  No. She doesn’t need this shit right now. She could be pregnant.

  Moscow was supposed to be her safe haven. The one place in this world that should make her feel protected more than anything. And now someone was testing that concept and challenging me.

  Get a name, Zahkar. I want that man’s neck in my hands by the end of the week. I want to feel his bones crack under my fingers. I want to see his fucking eyes pop out of his skull. And I want his mother and sisters and wife to see it too.

  I glanced at the guard. “Get in touch with our brothers in Paris, just in case. I want them to know I’m here.”

  The guard nodded and left the balcony.

  At the moment, I had the situation under control. Emily was safely with me. Zahka
r was on the case dealing with this idiot.

  And what about Misha?

  I went back to my phone and dialed Pavel.

  Before a full ring, Pavel answered, “Kazimir?”

  “Where’s Misha?”

  “That’s...complicated.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I saw him at the ballerina’s performance. Misha refused to talk to me. He had some older black woman.”

  “Who was she?”

  “I don’t know. She was definitely American. And the mouse’s guy was there. The black man.”

  “Maxwell?”

  “Yes. Maxwell was with Misha and the old black woman. And...perhaps because of this woman...Misha was not...open to discuss it.”

  “Stop dancing around and talk.”

  Pavel coughed. “I pressed Misha to at least call you. And from my pressuring, Misha took me outside of the theater and shot me in the leg.”

  I rubbed my face. “Are you okay?”

  “It was just one bullet that scraped my calf. I’ll live.” He coughed. “And then Misha returned to the ballet performance. His men dragged me out of there and took me to a hospital.”

  “That’s where you’re at now?”

  “Yes.”

  I lowered the phone and seethed.

  What the hell is wrong with you, Misha?

  Pressure built in my chest. “Get Maxwell’s information.”

  “Perhaps, your mouse will have that—”

  “This is why you’re in the hospital. That mouth and thinking too much. Get Maxwell’s information and call me back.” I hung up and glared at the other guard who had the unfortunate luck of being on the balcony with me.

  He looked down at the ground.

  I directed my view back to the sky. “Do you know much about the moon?”

  The guard cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, sir, but are you talking to me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I-I don’t know much about the moon.”

  I frowned.

  He added, “But there is a lunar eclipse coming soon. Some sort of super moon.”

  I arched my eyebrows. “When?”

  “Next Tuesday, I believe. I’m not sure.”

  I shook my head. “This is why the world is going crazy.”

  “Maybe, sir.”

  “And it’s only going to get worse. That’s how eclipses work. They make everybody act erratic.”

  The full moon had its own magic but combined with the energy of a lunar eclipse, chaos would come. Eclipses were heralders of change. They charged the soul into evolution, made the proceeding days uncomfortable so a person was forced to change and grow somehow. A huge transition. A transformation of the mind, body, and soul. A lunar eclipse was a time of leaving what was safe and comfortable in order to grow more fully into oneself.

  I’d escaped from jail on the night of an eclipse. I’d buried my mother on another. Both were major moments. Both changed my life. But none of the experiences were welcomed.

  Not now. I don’t need this now.

  What good could come from the earth’s shadow falling across the moon’s face? When that occurred, the moon always answered back with unsurmountable energy, blazing all the living with it. Creating chaos and insanity. When the eclipse came, unconscious feelings rose to the surface. For some, the moment grounded them in reality. For others, it drove them insane.

  Maybe we should stay in Paris until after the eclipse.

  My phone rang.

  Who else has good news?

  I spotted Pavel’s number again and answered, “You have more to say?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “What?”

  “Our people in the FBI are saying someone pulled the mouse’s fingerprints from your limo.”

  My voice rose. “What limo?”

  “The one you’re using in Paris.”

  I’d taken the Bugatti to the restaurant and had the limo delivered. I hadn’t wanted to put my hands on a steering wheel. I needed my hands all over Emily. Now, someone had snuck into the limo and lifted my mouse’s fingerprints.

  The moment I seek relaxation, everyone becomes bold. Who could be trying to get her prints? What are they trying to learn?

  I hadn’t even told Pavel I was in Paris. “Who told you I was here?”

  “The FBI.”

  I nodded, understanding. The FBI kept a watchful eye on me, not that they could do anything else. I sighed. “And who do they think lifted the fingerprints?”

  “They’re guessing it was your driver.”

  I turned to my guard. “Wake up my driver from his room and bring him out here.”

  He rushed off without another word.

  I returned to the phone. “Did they get a hit on the fingerprints?”

  “No, and I had the FBI agents killed.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Why?”

  “I thought it would be a good deterrent to other agents. If one is killed from looking into the fingerprints, perhaps the others won’t even want to touch the samples.”

  “None of the agents said who did it before they died?”

  “They refused.”

  That meant the agents feared what the person would do, if they told.

  Who else would the agents fear more than me? And who’s stupid enough to get my mouse’s prints?

  Even with hanging Sasha’s dead body from a flagpole, people thought they could challenge me.

  “Kazimir?”

  I gritted my teeth. “Yes.”

  “You need more men in Paris.”

  I swallowed my pride and agreed. “The world does appear to be fucking with me this week. It may be a good idea to send men this way.”

  “And weapons?”

  “I’ve brought a few rocket launchers. I’ll put one under the bed.”

  “Can it fit?”

  “I’ll make it fit.”

  “Perhaps, a rocket launcher may be too—”

  “Anything else?”

  “I would like to be by your side.”

  Was everyone going to stroke my cock for these new positions?

  “Come here but bring Misha with you. Enough is enough. It’s time for him and me to talk. And it’s more than enough time that he bury his father.”

  Only God knew what they were doing in Prague with Uncle Igor’s corpse.

  Silence hit the other line.

  Finally, Pavel spoke up, “I will do my best to bring him.”

  “There’s no other option. Tie Misha up and drag him if you have to, but it’s time for him to wake up and deal with his responsibilities. Is anybody even dealing with his father’s castle or the orphaned men out there?”

  “No.”

  “Call up Abram. Have him sent out there to find out what’s going on. There are a lot of important things Uncle Igor had been monitoring for me. No chaos could come that way.”

  “I will.”

  I hung up and considered what could be happening in Prague.

  Uncle Igor had a vault below the castle. Inside, he kept his most valuable treasures. Also, there were several hidden maps showing the location of my weapons, even the nukes lying within Russian’s secret bases. I called the nukes my babies. They’d solidified my reign over the world.

  My codes resided there too.

  Years ago, Uncle Igor had argued with me about it. He’d thought the codes should’ve been separated, that I shouldn’t have access to both at the same time. Therefore, one set of codes remained with him, and the matching part lay in my vault under my mother’s old home.

  If someone tried to steal them, they would still need the brother unit. It wouldn’t be a major problem if they were taken. I had tracking devices on them, but it would annoy the shit out of me.

  Too much is going on right now. Everything should be put back in order.

  There was Bratva administration issues and Emily’s monkey head. And then, for some reason, Russian citizens decided to protest. Meanwhile, Misha was nowhere to be found, and when he was dis
covered—at a ballet of all things—he’d decided to injure my men.

  What the hell could be more important than my invitation to come?

  Misha knew I wouldn’t kill him for the disrespect, especially after losing his father. Now, Misha was all I had of my uncle.

  Damn you, cousin. At least tell me what’s going on.

  Perhaps, Sasha’s dead body hanging out in the square might’ve caused a bit hysteria. Now, someone was looking into Emily’s prints.

  Why? If you want to know more about her, come to me. Let’s talk.

  I hated mysterious shadows working behind my back.

  They better hide.

  I didn’t return to my bedroom. Instead, I paced in the living room, pissed at the world and mad at the moon.

  Ten minutes later, I stood in front of my limo driver. He’d been ordered through a service. From now on, I would have my men drive us. Never before had I dealt with these sorts of things. Having Emily with me made me more cautious.

  He sat in his chair shaking as me and my guards stood in front of him.

  I smiled. “How are you today?”

  “I-I’m fine.” He glanced between the guards and me. “H-have I done something wrong?”

  “Have you?”

  “I...no.”

  “What do you know about science?”

  “Science?” He opened his mouth and closed it. “I just drive—”

  “You lift fingerprints too.”

  The driver pissed himself. It darkened his trousers and dripped along the chair.

  I stepped back to get away from the rising stench. “So, you know what I’m talking about?”

  “I...” He raised his hands in the air. “They offered me a lot of money...a-and...they—”

  “Who are they?”

  “These two guys.”

  “What did they look like?”

  The guy spat out the words. “French. Uh. Parisian, maybe. Black hair. Wait, one had dark sandy blond hair. They both had suits. I thought they might have been official. With the government.”

  “Did they have badges?”

  “No, but they had guns.”

  “We do too.”

  The driver’s hands shook. “They said they would protect me if—”

  “And are they protecting you now?” I looked around. “Where are they?”

  “Please,” he begged. “Please, don’t kill me.”