Dirty Love (The Lion and The Mouse Book 2)

by Kenya Wright

  Uniform’s face shifted to red and his eyes said scared shitless. Special Forces or not, he hadn’t been prepared for my mouse. Shaking, he pointed. “The kitchen is after that door.”

  Another shot sounded from the room he’d gestured to.

  Emily drew her gun.

  Boris stepped in with me right after. We split. Boris went left. I went right. Emily stayed by my side just as we’d planned.

  Chaos had occurred in the kitchen. Steel industrial kitchen doors swung back and forth. Mixing bowls had spilled onto the floor. Red and yellow sauces were splattered on the walls. Steam rose from several pots as things burned on the stone. Smoke filled the kitchen, but still I could make out that there were dead bodies on the floor.

  Nothing and no one moved, besides us.

  Yuri walked to Boris. The rest of the men stayed in the hallway, waiting for our signal to come in.

  Emily peeked around the corner. “The chef is dead.”

  I turned and spotted a big man in an apron spasming on the floor. His labored breaths shook with him. Another man was hunched over the stove, bleeding into the pot he’d been stirring.

  I pointed ahead of us. “There’s another door over there.”

  It swung back and forth as if someone had just rushed through. Emily signaled for Boris and Yuri to follow.

  “Hold up.” I paused.

  They waited behind me.

  I hadn’t heard footsteps rush away after the gunshots. “Stay here.”

  Emily didn’t argue, but she kept her gun pointed at the door. I kicked the door and let it swing hard. Sasha opened fire on the door, blasting holes into it. I grinned.

  He’s on the right of the door.

  Sasha roared in Russian, “Come on, lion!”

  The sound of his voice brought the widest smile to my face. It had been a long time since I’d been this excited to kill someone. I kept my voice low. “Boris and I go in together. Mysh, stay here.”

  “Where are you, lion?!” Sasha shot out in the hallway. “Or did you send your little mouse?! I’ve heard she’s here too.”

  Sasha wanted a conversation. He always loved that part of the gangster movie, when the bad and good guy had a smart discussion right before one killed the other. But this was my world and he’d caused enough disruption in it. And this wasn’t a movie. This was the night he would die. Instead of wasting words, I would spend bullets.

  Bye, Sasha.

  I snatched up my gun, spun into the hallway, and shot where I guessed Sasha’s voice had come from.

  There you are.

  I spotted him after the bullets left my gun. I’d guessed correct. He’d been crouched in a fighting stance in the cold-room’s doorway. There must’ve been no way for him to leave.

  A bullet hit Sasha’s shoulder. In that same instant, he fired his gun.

  Less than ten feet away, the bullet hit me hard. It smashed me backward. My head slammed into the floor.

  But I still got another shot off.

  Sasha screamed.

  Got you.

  My head spun to darkness and then brightness as the sound of gunshots rang above me. I swirled. I twisted. I drowned in darkness, but I wouldn’t let myself go. I fought back to consciousness, feeling warm liquid drip down the side of my face.

  He hit me in my head too?

  Five shots rang before I blinked my eyes and could see. Several men were in the hallway now. Emily too. All shooting in Sasha’s direction. Blood dripped in my eye. I blinked it away. My shoulder blazed on fire. I had the worst headache of my life, but nothing else hurt.

  More shots blasted.

  Gripping my gun, I rose, ready to shoot again.

  But Sasha was dead.

  And Emily continued to pull the trigger. Everyone watched her. Her gun clicked and clicked and clicked.

  And she continued to pull. Tears fell from her eyes. Her arm remained straight. Her hand was a tight grip.

  And it clicked and clicked and clicked.

  I stumbled her way and wrapped my arms around her small frame. That was the moment when she dropped the gun and turned to me.

  She trembled. Her chest rose and fell. “I thought he killed you, until you kept moving, and then I saw the bullet had only scratched your head, and…and…he pointed at you…and…”

  “And we killed him.” I held her tight against me. “It’s done.”

  Over Emily’s shoulder, I gazed down at Sasha. My heart boomed in my chest, but my brain held relief. Sasha was hit hard several times.

  Dying on the floor, he cried and choked on his own blood.

  Fuck you.

  Twenty-Two

  Maxwell

  I’d never been to a ballet before. I made a note to do it more.

  The place was stunning—glass and stone. Gold interior and fucking crystal chandeliers. Misha claimed it was over 80,000 sq. ft. Contemporary, yet elegant. Dripping with culture and ancient history, but also pretty goddamn expensive looking too.

  Russia’s rich filled the place. Misha enjoyed showing me off, introducing me to everyone. Somehow between the deaths and blood, Misha and I had become besties. We’d even worn similar-looking tuxedos. Valentina was in a black gown and sexy black high heels. Her blonde hair was pulled into a tight knot at the nape of her neck. Her makeup was perfect as well as every other inch of her.

  “I’m glad you decided to stay the night.” Excitement rode Misha’s voice. I could tell he loved the theater seeing as he pointed out this and that. “Mariinsky Theater is the grandest one in St Petersburg.” He led Valentina and I to his private balcony. “Tchaikovsky premiered the Nutcracker here in 1892.”

  “Dope,” I said.

  Misha winked. “Dope is right. It’s the oldest ballet house in the country.”

  Valentina nudged me. “Misha has donated close to twenty million to this place. It was dealing with bankruptcy—”

  “Bad management.” Misha frowned. “Things have changed.”

  Valentina shook her head. “No, I’m not trying to make fun of you. I’m…I’m very proud of you.”

  Misha opened the door. “Just don’t kill any more of my ballerinas.”

  “So, that’s why you were so invested in the murder.” I nodded. “I thought you were in love with Valentina.”

  He snorted. “I had a weak night during a perceived heartbreak that wasn’t even true.”

  Valentina turned away when he said that. “Sorry. I was heartbroken, and I wanted someone to be heartbroken with me.”

  Misha gestured to the chairs. “You lied and said Kazimir was at the penthouse for Ava. So when I phoned my security and they spotted him in the footage, they confirmed it.”

  I sat down. “Aww. But Kazimir had been there for Olesya?”

  “Yes.” Misha scowled at Valentina. “So, I got drunk with the demon over there and we had sex—”

  “And it didn’t last that long might I add.” Valentina smirked.

  “I want a paternity test.” Misha didn’t look our way and stared at the empty stage as the orchestra tested their instruments and others strolled to their seat.

  Tension filled the balcony. In that moment, I wished I was down there with the orchestra, helping them out.

  Finally, Valentina cleared away the silence. “Okay. I will give it to you.”

  That didn’t brighten the mood on the balcony, but at least they seemed to find some closure. In a way, they reminded me of Emily and I. They’d definitely grown up together and had more of a sibling banter than any chemistry. Valentina appeared to enjoy irritating Misha. And after watching Misha kill, I figured she was probably the only one who could really bother him.

  A paternity test. Wow. We’re about to go Jerry Springer up in Russia this month.

  Another minute passed, and casual conversation lifted back up with us. Misha explained that due to his hefty donation, he had a special deal with the ballet company. The private balcony would always be in his family, and he would continue to fund the company’s future performa
nces, as long as Ava danced with them.

  “Does she know that she is part of the deal?” I asked.

  Misha linked his fingers together. “No.”

  “You’re obsessed,” Valentina muttered.

  “I believe in her. She’s talented. She doesn’t need my help, but it makes me feel good when I do.”

  “How did she get from the NY to here?”

  “She did so on a scholarship to the Bolshoi dance company. It’s affiliated with the Bolshoi theater in Moscow, and one of the top companies in Russia.”

  “She’s young,” Valentina added. “Twenty.”

  Misha rolled his eyes. “Twenty-one.”

  “You’re thirty,” Valentina said.

  “I’m only interested in her talent.”

  Valentina snorted.

  Misha continued, “She’s strong-spirited too. She was the first African-American ballerina to finish the school.”

  “That’s dope.”

  Misha smiled. “No, Maxwell. What’s dope is that Ava came to a foreign country with no money and at the behest of a ballet company that, despite inviting and giving her a scholarship, had consistently discriminated against her.”

  I sat up. “They treated her like shit?”

  Misha’s lip sneered a little. “They did. Now, they understand.”

  Valentina frowned. “Should I go by there and—?”

  Misha and I both said no at the same time.

  The orchestra began. I expected more of a traditional classical song, but it sounded more like something that one would play at a circus. A violin weaved in and out of a flute’s melody. For some reason, the music reminded me of glass.

  Light appeared on the stage. It wasn’t exactly what I assumed it would be. There was a shaft of light that pierced through darkness. It gave a dreamlike atmosphere.

  Ava appeared, gracefully pirouetting.

  Damn.

  She was motion in itself. She was beautiful rhythm. A burst of burst of flowing arms. She flew up so high that when she landed, I was scared she’d would injure herself. Each movement, she did with grace. I didn’t know ballet, but I knew that I could watch her dance forever.

  She floated through the air with her arms over her head, twirling and twisting. Flawless. Long and nimble, but curvaceous and muscular. She had powerful thighs. I could see the muscles formed around them.

  Damn, she’s beautiful. I see why Misha is crazy about her.

  Other ballerinas strolled out to the stage and met her movements, but it was clear that she was the star. Her brown skin glistened against the diamond tutu and sparkling top.

  Misha leaned forward in his seat.

  I shifted my attention to him.

  You are a little bit obsessed, dude.

  Misha watched her with a lust-crazed intensity.

  The music lifted to a faster pace. She matched it, moving with power and immense control, none of the effort showed in her expression.

  Valentina rose and left the balcony.

  What’s up with that?

  Misha and I exchanged glances.

  “I’ll be right back.” I rose and doubted Misha heard me as he returned to drooling over Ava.

  When I got outside, I found Valentina pacing in the empty hallway and muttering Russian. She stopped and glared at me.

  She was definitely pissed and angry, but she was beautiful in a way I’d never expected to find anyone beautiful. I’d had only one goal in life, and I never expected to live past that goal. I’d been steeped in anger and violence for so long, I’d forgotten what it meant to see something beautiful. To admit that something was beautiful. And it wasn’t just her looks, it was the lush violence within her.

  I held out my hands. “What happened? Why did you go?”

  “You like her?”

  “Who?” I quirked my eyebrows. “Ava, the ballerina?”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “The way you looked at her—”

  “She’s a great dancer and she was dancing. I’m supposed to look.”

  Valentina stared at the ground. “I don’t know how to do things like this in a normal fashion.”

  “Things like what?”

  “Relationships.”

  Oh wait? We’re in a relationship? I just thought we had a situation. A little blowjob on the plane.

  I proceeded with caution. “What do you mean?”

  “I like you.”

  “I like you too, but there is this thing about you killing your lovers.” I shrugged. “I’m a little concerned.”

  “Fine.” She walked off in the opposite direction.

  “Valentina, come here.” I stormed after her.

  She muttered Russian.

  I got to her and grabbed her. “Wait.”

  “Let me go.”

  I did.

  She made fists at her hips. For some reason, her being pissed made me hard.

  “I wanted a baby.” Valentina sighed. “But I…it was a long-term idea.”

  “O-kay.”

  “Olesya was a sick person. She…she liked to possess me. She suffocated me. And when I ended it, I used my wanting a baby as one of the excuses.” Valentina undid her fists. “Then, Olesya started being seen around Moscow with Kazimir. She invited him to a performance. Intrigued, he came.”

  “They ended up dating.”

  “No. She couldn’t keep his attention. They just hooked up a lot.” Valentina shook her head. “And then Olesya did something very dangerous. She told me later that it was the reason why Kazimir had broken up with her. She came to my door crying.”

  “What happened?”

  “She thought Kazimir was going to kill her. She wanted my protection.”

  “What did she do?”

  “She was keeping his sperm.”

  Confused, I scratched my head. “Say what?”

  “When she gave him a blow job, she would spit his sperm in a cup. She had several cups in the freezer. He found out because anyone who he has sex with him is monitored. Security let him know what she’d been doing.”

  “And she thought he might kill her over it?”

  “Yes, but he didn’t. His men got rid of all the cups, except one.” Valentina looked away. “That night she came over crying. We…had sex, and…”

  Lost as fuck, I shook my head. “And?”

  “She put the sperm inside of me. Kazimir’s sperm. I didn’t know.” Valentina’s bottom lip quivered. “I woke up that morning and she left some cruel letter saying it. The next week she sent the children’s book Vasilia the Beautiful with a card that said that Kazimir and my baby would enjoy the story.”

  I covered my face with both hands and rubbed it. “I don’t know if I like where this is going.”

  “You wanted to know.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I wasn’t sure, if she’d really did that or not with the sperm…so…I rushed over to her penthouse to kill her. She wasn’t there. I was frantic. She went into hiding. But Misha was there like always.”

  “Misha is always at the penthouse?”

  “No. He’s outside of the penthouse in the café across the street. He likes to sit there and watch Ava. You heard he said that he confirmed Kazimir leaving from his security. He has people watching Ava.”

  “O-kay.”

  “So, I was talking to Misha.” She cleared her throat. “He started drinking, and he was worried about Kaz moving in on Ava.”

  Hey, so maybe you don’t have to tell me about this stuff anymore. I’m good now.

  I pursed my lips and tried to listen to the rest.

  “I told Misha that Ava was sleeping with Kazimir, and then I told him to come with me to drink some more vodka. He did. We had sex.” She cleared her throat again. “I made sure to not use a condom.”

  I had nothing to say.

  Her bottom lip quivered. “Nine months later, I have my daughter.”

  “Why kill Olesya now?”

  “She’d been hiding from me, and I’d been pregnant
. My concern for her death shifted to my daughter, when she was born. But when we arrived in Prague, I received a message from Olesya. She said she’d heard the news about Kazimir’s death. She wanted to console me.”

  “So, you lured her to Igor’s, but got her kicked out? You knew she’d go back to the hotel that Kazimir had kept for her?”

  “Even if she didn’t, I would’ve found out.”

  “Oleg seemed mad that you killed her. In the car, he acted like he didn’t know you were going to do it.”

  “Oleg didn’t know about what she’d done. He thought I was self-sabotaging myself in love. He never realized why I’d stopped talking to her. I told him I was just leaving the feast and didn’t want to be around Uncle Igor’s prying questions of my daughter’s possible father.”

  “Wait. Oleg was a romantic?” I shrugged. “I would’ve never guessed.”

  She sighed. “Now what? Is that the story you’re going to tell Kazimir?”

  “That his niece may or may not be his daughter by his sister? Hell to the no. I’ll tell him that Olesya and you had a lover’s spat. He’ll need to know that you slept with her.”

  “Fine.”

  “But everything else…that’s your business.”

  “And us?”

  “There’s an us?”

  “I need someone to protect me.” She touched her chest. “Oleg is gone.”

  “I already have a woman I protect. Your brother would give you many—”

  “Emily doesn’t need you anymore. I need you.”

  I smirked. “You’re too fucking bossy for me.”

  “I’m not.”

  I could watch her. Surely, Kazimir had Em under serious protection. And being close to Valentina would guarantee that I would always know what was up with Em.

  “What do you need, Maxwell?” she asked.

  I considered it. “I would need to stay close to Emily. It doesn’t have to be the same city, but same country, same continent. That’s one of my rules.”

  “What else?”

  “Oleg was your little puppy. That’s not me.”

  She pouted.

  “Every time you act up, I’m going to stick my dick in you.” I grinned. “I think you’d like that.”

  She licked her lips. My dick got hard. Standing in front of her, I pushed my big body against hers. “You accept?”