Russian Mobster's Stolen Wife

by Bella Rose

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Another Story You May Enjoy

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Russian Mobster’s Stolen Wife

  By: Bella Rose

  All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2016 Bella Rose

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  Chapter One

  Grigori Pasternak gazed through the brightly lit windows of the big house on the corner of a busy street in Washington DC. He was tucked into a shadowy alcove between some trees and another building. It shocked him a bit to imagine that a US district attorney lived his life so blatantly in the open without a stitch of security to guard his family.

  The younger daughter passed by the open window not twenty yards from Grigori’s position. She was slim and pretty with silky brown hair, but she was far too young for Grigori’s needs. He was looking for the elder daughter, a young woman who had just celebrated her twentieth birthday.

  “Ah, there you are,” Grigori murmured to himself.

  He smiled at the sight of her. She really was rather fetching with her reddish brown hair and green eyes. She was a student at Georgetown University. He knew this detail as well as he knew her personal habits, but he could not recall her name. Not that it mattered. The only time he would need her name was when he filled out their marriage certificate.

  “Dad, you have to let me go,” the elder daughter was saying to a man outside Grigori’s view. “All of my friends are going to this concert. It’s my favorite band. I’m not even asking you to buy the ticket. I already bought it!”

  With the window open to let in the spring breeze, Grigori could hear the entire conversation. Did these people have no sense of privacy? It was insane.

  “Do you know what kind of things happen at these concerts?” her father was saying. “It’s all drugs, sex, and alcohol.”

  “Yeah, Dad.” Her tone dripped sarcasm and attitude. “You know me. I’m all about finding random hookups and then having wild monkey sex with them at hourly motels.”

  “Don’t joke about this, Flynn,” her father snapped. “It’s serious.”

  Flynn. That’s right. The DA was Irish. Although Grigori couldn’t possibly understand why a man would name his daughter for his wife’s family. Did he have no pride of his own?

  “I’m going,” Flynn told her father. “I’m twenty years old. I have a job, and I’m a full time student. You can’t treat me like a little girl forever. I’ll be home by two.”

  “In the morning?” her father asked. “That’s far too late!”

  “You’ll get over it soon enough.”

  Grigori smiled. He watched the young woman grab a jacket and pull it on over her low cut top. This was working out more perfectly than he ever could have imagined. He slipped farther into the shadows and prepared to wait. His target was coming outside and falling right into his trap even easier than he could have planned.

  The younger daughter waved to her big sister and then made a face at their father behind his back. Obviously the good DA had a very positive and nurturing relationship with his offspring. Not that Grigori would have had a reason to hold a better opinion of the man after he had been the sole driving force behind the separation of Grigori and his younger brother.

  But now was not the time to think of that. Flynn came out the front door of her father’s house and let the door slam behind her. She gave a satisfied nod and then made her way down to the curb where she had left the little compact car she often drove around town.

  Grigori took a breath. He had to time this perfectly. Crouching low, he made his way from the shadowy trees to the sidewalk and took up a position between the cars just in front of Flynn’s parking place.

  She put on her blinker and checked her blind spots like a good little driver. Then she moved to pull out onto the busy street. Grigori waited until she was barely flush with his position. Reaching out, he pounded the front quarter panel of her car with his fist. The glancing blow was fiercely loud against the plastic car. In fact, he was pretty sure he had cracked the panel.

  His fist burned from the impact, but that didn’t matter. He sprawled on the ground just as Flynn stomped on the brakes and squealed the little car to a stop. She jumped out and ran around the front of the car. Grigori rolled around a bit, moaning for effect.

  “Oh my God! Did I hit you?” She gasped in horror. “Are you all right? Sir? Sir?”

  She knelt beside him, hesitantly touching his arm with her fingertips. Grigori opened his eyes slowly, focusing on her face and trying to affect the most pathetic look possible.

  “What happened?” he asked, making his voice sound groggy. “Did I fall? I was walking...”

  “I’m so sorry, mister!” Flynn sounded near tears. “I was pulling out, but I didn’t see you at all. Are you all right?” She glanced at her car, presumably to see if there was any damage.

  “I think I’ll be all right, but I should probably go to a hospital.” Grigori made a point of rising with painful slowness to a sitting position. “I’ll just find a bus stop and take the bus to the hospital.”

  “No! Let me take you. It’s no trouble, and I’m sure you should get looked at right away. I’m just so sorry!”

  He fought back a smile as she struggled to help him stand. She pulled open the passenger side door of her car. It was more painful trying to fold himself into the tiny vehicle than it would have been if he’d actually been run over. Ridiculous.

  She carefully closed the door and ran around to the driver’s side. Grigori sighed with satisfaction. Yes. That had been entirely too easy. Now that he had her, it was time to take Flynn for a little field trip. There would be no hospital and no concert. In fact, they were late for their wedding ceremony.

  FLYNN WAS MORTIFIED by the fact that she had just run over a pedestrian after swearing to her father that she was a mature adult who could make her own decisions. Who did that?

  “Are you feeling all right?” she asked the man. “I can pull over at any time if you need me to.”

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  He didn’t sound particularly injured, which was weird since she had to have hit him pretty hard. “Which emergency room do you want me to take you to?”

  “I’m not sure. I’m new here and not familiar with the hospitals.”

  “Oh, no problem.” She wondered if that explained the rest of the weird things about him. “Where are you from?”

  “Moscow.”

  “Really?” It certainly piqued her interest. “I’ve always been fascinated with Russian culture.”

  “Is that right?”

  Okay, he sounded more amused than anything else. Weird. She wondered if he had a screw loose. She nodded her head to make things seem normal. “Oh yes. I took Russian history last semester. It was fascinating.”

  “I’m sure you focused most of your studies on the Bolshevik upheaval and the whole Romanov angle,” he said in a droll voice. “Americans always seem exceptionally fascinated by the Romanovs.”

  “Don’t you think it would have been romantic if Anastasia Romanov lived and came over to the US in hiding?” Flynn sighed. That story always tripped her romance button. “Maybe she fell in l
ove with one of her guards in that house. It’s possible.”

  “More likely it’s possible that she and the rest of her family were thrown into a deep hole in the ground and left unburied so that wolves stole a few of the bones, making it impossible to tell who was actually there and who was not.”

  “That’s awful!”

  “That’s life.” He smiled, and Flynn realized for the first time that he was a little more of a man than she had first thought.

  Initially, she hadn’t had much of an impression of him other than the fact that he’d been half underneath her car and lying on the ground. Now she realized he had a swarthy, dark complexion, eyes so dark they were almost black, and thick, unruly black hair that curled almost boyishly around his forehead. He was built like a pro athlete and well over six feet tall. His head was brushing the headliner of her car.

  And he’s seriously hot!

  Okay. It was time to think of other things. Flynn was on a break from men. Period. She had epically bad taste and needed to rethink her life plans before finding herself in another long-term relationship.

  “You’re certainly not a fan of the Tsars, I take it.”

  “Poor people rarely are.”

  “Ah, I see.” She didn’t, but it wouldn’t have been prudent to demand an explanation. “Here’s the hospital.” She felt incredibly relieved without understanding why. “I’m sure they’ll get you all patched up. I’ll give you my father’s information, and you can contact him for payment of your bill.”

  “What about you?” the stranger asked slowly. “You’re the one who ran me over. Shouldn’t you be responsible for taking care of the damages?”

  She swallowed nervously. “I’m just a student. But don’t worry. My father will dole out the appropriate discipline for the situation. He always does.”

  Something hot and almost angry flared in this stranger’s gaze. “Will your father strike you during this discipline?”

  “Oh no!” She realized how that must have sounded. “Not at all. He will likely make me reimburse him, and he’ll hold it over my head for a million years or more.”

  “Then I’ve changed my mind.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Just take me home. I don’t want to cause you any trouble after you’ve been so pleasant to me.”

  Confusion made her lightheaded. “But surely you want a doctor to look at you? You just got hit by a car.”

  “It doesn’t really hurt.” He seemed to shrug it off. “I live not far from here. Just take me to my apartment, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

  Flynn was so discombobulated by the change in plans that she didn’t stop to think about the fact that she had only seconds ago wanted this man out of her car with all possible haste. “Do I turn right or left?”

  “Left.”

  It was so dark in this area. The neighborhood was old, and the buildings were close and narrow. “Is it nearby?”

  “Turn right here.”

  She did as he requested and found herself in a dead end alley. It was pitch black now. There was a dumpster directly in front of her. A sick, gnawing ache grew in her belly. She glanced over at her passenger. He was staring back. The effect of the green dash lights on his impenetrable expression was almost macabre.

  “Sir?” she asked hesitantly. “What’s going on?”

  “Oh, Flynn,” he said with a low chuckle. “You truly are an innocent, aren’t you?”

  How did he know her name?

  She swallowed, feeling true fear for the first time ever. Adrenaline spiked in her veins, and her hands shook on the wheel. She put the car in park and set her hands in her lap to cover her unease. She was going to have to make a break for it. That was the only option, but the timing had to be perfect.

  “You know, I have always thought you Americans arrogant in your assumptions about safety,” the stranger continued. It was as if he were confiding something particularly important to her. “You have no security for yourself, yet your father is a district attorney who consistently pisses people off.”

  “So this is about my father?” she asked slowly. “Why am I involved then? It’s not like he listens to me. I can’t make him do something for you. I’m not even worth much as ransom.”

  The man laughed, low at first and then louder. “You do not even realize your own value. What kind of father allows his child to believe such a thing?” He muttered something in Russian.

  He looked distracted for a moment, as if her words had stirred a memory that somehow held him captive. Flynn knew she was never going to get another chance. Shoving her door open, she bolted out of the car and into the night.

  Chapter Two

  Okay, that had been mildly unexpected. For the span of two breaths, Grigori was left staring in surprise at the open door. He blinked as the dome light in the car momentarily blinded him. Flynn had run away from him. She’d actually run!

  He wanted to laugh at his own overconfident idiocy, but there was no time for that. He opened the door and followed the slap-slap of footsteps on the asphalt. He stretched out his longer legs and ran, trying to be quiet so he could let the sound of her ragged breathing lead him right to her.

  The sound abruptly stopped.

  Grigori pulled up sharply. He sucked in a breath, holding it and focusing on any sound that he could pick out. Then he heard a rustle off to his left. The shadows were inky black there between two old buildings. He crept closer. Holding his hands out to his sides, he prepared for anything.

  “Anything” came in the form of a dark, narrow shape swiping in a downward arc toward his face. Grigori lifted his hand, catching a piece of wood that was meant to smack him in the head. He grunted as his hand made contact. For a little thing, Flynn had quite a powerful swing.

  “You bastard!” she snarled. “Go away and leave me alone!”

  “Sorry, princess. I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?” She backed off, getting deeper in the shadows.

  He couldn’t see her, but he could hear her breathing. Perhaps he could even feel her determination. “Come on now, Flynn. You don’t want to die, do you?”

  Something smacked him in the shoulder, and he realized she was picking up refuse from the ground and chucking it at him. Something hard and smelly nailed him in the chest. It left a smear of unsavory origins on his shirt.

  “Hey now,” he said irritably. “That’s not…” Another piece of the muck hit him square in the face. “Stop! That’s enough.”

  He lunged right at her, not realizing until he was already committed that he had done exactly what she’d wanted. The blow left him seeing stars. It cracked right across the side of his head with astonishing accuracy.

  Grigori went down on one knee. His vision curled at the edges as his consciousness began slipping away. He was actually going to pass out!

  “No,” he grunted.

  Grinding his teeth together, he forced his brain back into motion. He put one knee on the ground and braced his weight on his other leg. Then he sensed Flynn trying to slip past on his right. Reaching out with his hand, he snagged a piece of her clothing.

  She gave an anxious squeak and tried to yank away from his tenuous hold. He clenched his fingers, twisting them in the fabric of her jacket and pulling her toward him. He was not giving in. His brother needed him. This was the only way to make things right, and Grigori would be damned if some slip of a girl screwed it all up now.

  “Let go!” She shoved at him.

  He grabbed her instead, wrapping both arms around her midsection and dragging her to the ground. He let the weight of his entire body land atop hers. She made a chuffing noise as his bodyweight pushed the air from her lungs. She was still struggling, but Grigori simply stopped. He went limp, allowing her to fetter away what was left of her resistance in the futile attempt to get out from underneath him.

  “Ugh! What is your problem!” she wheezed.

  Because she couldn’t see his face, he smiled. “Are you through ye
t?”

  “Through fighting you? No. Never!”

  There was a pause though, and he felt her trying to catch her breath. Her lithe body was trembling beneath his, and he began to be aware of how warm and soft she was. It was mildly disturbing to realize that he liked being this close to her.

  “You smell nice,” he commented before he could stop himself.

  “My smell? You’re thinking about that right now?”

  She was right, of course. That line of thinking was entirely inappropriate given the circumstances. Still, he was a man and human after all.

  His head hurt. “It wasn’t very nice of you to clock me over the head with that—what was that anyway?”

  “A piece of wood from a pallet And I’ll do it again if you give me the chance.”

  “I suppose I’ll have to make sure that doesn’t happen then, hmm?”

  “I bet I didn’t even hit you with the car.” She sounded annoyed. “Was it all a lie?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Let’s say I have the time.”

  It was no mean feat to be sarcastic at a time like this. Grigori was surprise to note that he actually admired her grit. It made him slightly less indifferent toward her. “Let’s just say that your father is paying the price for something he did.”

  “My father is an ass. He’s a liar and a cheater. What else is new?” She shuddered beneath him as she tried to get a deep breath. “It’s unfair to make me responsible for his asinine behavior. Don’t you think?”

  “Depends on the situation.” He was pretty sure that telling her his entire plan right now would not end well. She was starting to settle down. He didn’t care to rile her up again.

  “Can you please let me up?” she asked, still sounding disgruntled. “It smells down here, and you weigh a ton.”

  “Since you said please.” He rolled to his side and removed a good portion of his bodyweight from her torso and legs.

  That was when she attacked him again.