You Don't Own Me: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (The Russian Don Book 2)

by Georgia Le Carre

  After about fifteen minutes Shane and Snow arrive and I smile happily at them. They are such a beautiful couple everyone turns to watch them. They come up to us.

  ‘Hey Dahlia,’ Shane says.

  Snow kisses me on my cheek. ‘You look absolutely wonderful,’ she says with a lovely smile.

  ‘So do you,’ I say, sincerely looking at her long sleeved powder blue dress. It has little birds embroidered on it.

  As we are making plans to have dinner together, Lenny comes through the door, and Snow pales. Shane puts his arm around her waist and she looks up at him. He smiles down at her and in that look he gives her there’s everything I would love to see in Zane’s face. There’s love, there’s protection, there’s reassurance, there’s lust, and there’s permanence. I’m here forever.

  My eyes slide to Zane and he is looking at Lenny. Lenny is talking to some other people.

  ‘Don’t worry. I won’t leave your side and he will never approach us,’ Shane tells his wife.

  ‘It’s OK. I’m prepared. It’s not like I didn’t know he’d be here,’ she says with a shaky laugh.

  ‘We’re going down to the paddock. Want to come with us?’ Zane invites them.

  ‘Shall we go see the horses,’ Shane asks Snow.

  ‘No, I want to do this. I want him to know I’m not afraid of him,’ Snow says.

  ‘OK, sweetheart.’

  ‘We’ll see you guys later then,’ Zane says, and leads me away. I look sideways up at Zane. ‘What was that all about?’

  ‘Snow used to be with Lenny.’

  ‘What?’ Even the idea that someone as beautiful as Snow could be with a man as repulsive and slimy as Lenny is unthinkable.

  ‘It’s a long story.’

  ‘I don’t like Lenny.’

  He frowns at me. ‘I told you to stay out of it.’

  ‘I’m not interfering. I’m just stating my opinion.’

  ‘Just stay as far away from him as you can, Dahlia,’ he says softly.

  ‘Don’t worry I plan to.’

  Here we are. This is where one comes to see how a horse is behaving before the race starts.

  I have never been to a racecourse before and Zane explains me that horses are like people. They have good days and bad days and the paddock was the place to see if they are nervous and sweating a lot (the ones with big dark splotches on their coat) or even ill if the sweat patch is near its kidneys. He shows me the difference between a preppy horse eager to race, and a jittery one, biting, rearing and turning in circles. That horse he tells me has spunk but is wasting its energy before the race and should be avoided.

  ‘Do you go to the races often?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes. There’s not much to beat spending the whole afternoon and evening watching horses racing and performing at their peak ability.’

  ‘Is that a good horse to pick?’ I ask pointing to a beautiful black stud with a white star on his forehead.

  ‘I wouldn’t,’ he replies.

  ‘No? Do you have a recommendation then?’ I ask curiously. Stella has asked me to place a bet for her too.

  ‘Last Arabian.,’ he says pointing to a gleaming brown horse tossing its head proudly.

  ‘How much should I put on it?’ I ask.

  ‘Everything you’ve got,’ he says seriously.

  My mouth drops open in astonishment. I lean forward and whisper. ‘Are you saying the races are fixed?’

  ‘Not all, but that one is.’

  I stare at him in disbelief. He is so beautiful yet so spectacularly foreign to me. ‘How do you fix a match in this day and age?’

  ‘Pay the other jockeys to throw the race.’

  ‘Oh my God,’ I gasp. I have never met anyone who was so relaxed and casual after doing such a criminal thing.

  He looks at me curiously. ‘Why are you so shocked?’

  ‘Of course, I’m shocked,’ I whisper fiercely.

  He seems surprised. ‘Why? The most important things in this world are fixed. From gold prices (twice a day) to mortgage rates, to which country gets to host the Olympics. Even the results you see on Google are completely manipulated. It’s all corrupt, but so well hidden that you never know about it.’

  ‘Why isn’t what you already have enough, Zane? Why do you need more money?’ I ask sadly.

  He reaches out a hand and brushes a stray lock of hair away from my cheek. ‘To enter the mafia,’ he says, ‘is to become a shark. The shark must perpetually swim if it is to breathe and therefore exist. We must constantly expand. We must take more than we give, even to the extent of eating our own young.

  ‘If the mighty empire has to eat its young to expand then it’s not sustainable and must die an agonizingly long and horrible death.’

  ‘To the contrary in my profession death is usually brutal but quick.’

  ‘This life you have chosen is so dangerous. I am so afraid for you,’ I whisper, my voice full of dread.

  ‘I really meant it when I said I’d rather die a violent death as a lion then live forever as a rat in a sewer.

  ‘I know you said you didn’t have a choice to enter this brutal world, but you have a choice now. You can stop. You can walk away from this life.’

  ‘This the only life I know, rybka.’

  Last Arabian wins his race in the last few seconds. It looks so real. No one could have suspected. I look at Zane and his face is no different than any other gambler there. Shane and Snow don’t stay. Lenny keeps away from me.

  We go into the restaurant and eat a five-course delicious meal with an international twist to it. I talk and laugh and put on my happy face. Stella calls and is disappointed that I did not put any money on a horse. I will tell her later about Last Arabian. I know she will understand that I have put, but a foot in Zane’s world and only because it is the only way I know to stay in there long enough to try and pull him out of it.

  Twelve

  Dahlia Fury

  ‘You know it is Aleksandr’s birthday tomorrow,’ Olga says when I go downstairs for breakfast.

  I look at her in amazement. ‘Oh? He never said anything.’

  ‘He never does. That is why I am telling you. In case you wanted to celebrate it in some way …’ She lets her voice trail off as she packs the cavity of a duck with herbs and sausage meat and orange slices.

  I frown. ‘What usually happens on his birthday?’

  She glances at me. ‘Absolutely nothing.’

  ‘What? Not even a cake with some candles on it?’

  ‘I’ve been working for Aleksandr for nearly ten years and not once has he celebrated his birthday. I’ve never so much as seen a birthday card arrive.’

  I look at her curiously. ‘Why will nobody even send a card?’

  She shrugs. ‘Probably because he doesn’t tell anyone it’s his birthday so no one knows to do anything.’

  ‘How do you know it’s his birthday then?’

  ‘Well, I saw his passport sitting on his desk one day and peeked into it,’ she confesses.

  ‘Olga,’ I shout and burst into laughter. Honestly, she is so cute.

  She makes a face. ‘It’s not like I harmed anyone. I just wanted to know how old he was.’

  ‘So how old is he?’

  ‘He is thirty-four tomorrow.’

  I think for a moment. ‘Should I plan something for him, Olga, or is that just going to make him angry that I have been putting my nose where he obviously doesn’t want anybody’s?’

  ‘It’s up to you, but I could bake a cake if you asked me to,’ she says, looking at me hopefully, willing me to pick up the gauntlet and run with it.

  For a few seconds I hesitate. What if he is one of those sour people who don’t like anyone to make a fuss over their birthdays? Stella’s grandfather is like that. He goes mad if anybody even wishes him happy birthday, let alone buys him a present. He grumbles that presents are a total waste of money. Then I think: what the heck? I should throw a little surprise party. It’ll be fun. This house is way too dead.
<
br />   ‘Yes, bake a cake, Olga. We’ll surprise him with a party. Nothing grand or too intrusive, just the staff.’

  Olga smiles and nods with approval.

  ‘I think we’re going out for dinner, and when we get back I’ll bring him into the living room. It has to be dark and when he switches on the light everyone can pop up from their hiding places and scream surprise. Then you can bring in the cake with lighted candles. We’ll all sing happy birthday and maybe have a toast.’

  Olga smiles happily. ‘That sounds like a wonderful idea. I’ll make strawberry cake. It’s his favorite.’

  I smile back excited by the idea of throwing a surprise party for Zane. ‘Thank you for telling me, Olga. He should have a proper birthday.’

  ‘Yes, he should,’ she says softly.

  ‘I’ll go out today and buy him a present.’

  That afternoon I go out with Noah. First we pass by my workplace to drop off read manuscripts and pick up more. Then we go shopping.

  It’s hard to know what to get for a man who already has everything. Of course, Noah is no help. Just for fun I get him a set of 4 Star Wars flash drives. They are really cute and they should make him smile. I chose Darth Vader, Yoda, Chewbacca and C-3PO.

  With my flash drives safely in my bag I get the driver to take me to Coco De Mer. Neither the driver nor Noah show any reaction. Noah waits outside while I go in and buy an A10 Cyclone hands free Male Masturbator and the lubricant that goes with it.

  Outside, Noah’s eyes drift to my package. ‘Done?’

  ‘Nearly. I just need to quickly pop into Non Stop Party in Kensington to pick up some stuff.

  At Non Stop Party I buy loads of silver and black balloons, streamers, banners, wrapping paper and a funny card with a grinning monkey with the words:

  Don’t panic. You’ve still got it.

  For my last item I walk into Dune and buy every scented candle they have in stock. It comes up to just over a hundred.

  ‘All done,’ I tell Noah.

  ‘If you think of something else you need let me know. I’m around anytime,’ he says.

  ‘Why thank you, Noah,’ I say.

  A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. ‘Glad to be able to help,’ he says gruffly.

  Once we get home he helps me carry all my purchases up to my room. After he has gone, I sit down on the bed and begin to wrap them up. A part of me can’t wait for tomorrow. To see Zane’s reaction. Halfway through wrapping Yoda, my sister calls me on Skype.

  ‘Hey you,’ I say cheerily.

  She doesn’t even say hello. ‘Are you still at your friend’s house?’ she asks.

  Shit, she has recognized the background. ‘Yeah. I’m kind of staying here. I know I said it was a friend’s house, but actually it’s my … er … boyfriend’s house.’

  She frowns, her eyes narrowed and suspicious. ‘What? Why would you hide that from me?’

  ‘Ummm … it’s kind of complicated, but basically, I wasn’t sure if it was going to come to anything so there was no point in saying anything if it was going to be a non event.’

  She rolls onto her front on the bed and lays her chin in her folded hands. ‘You haven’t told mom either, have you?’

  ‘And have her quiz me about it all the time? No thanks!’

  She grins. ‘So come on, who is he?’

  ‘Uh … his name is Zane, well, that’s like a nickname. His real name is Aleksandr Malenkov.’

  ‘That’s not an English name,’ she notes.

  ‘No. He’s Russian.’

  Her eyes widen. ‘You’re going out with a Russian guy?’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘Is he nice?’

  ‘Here let me send you a pic of him,’ I say and send a pic over to her.

  ‘OMG!’ she exhales. ‘He looks so big and fierce. What’s he like, a wrestler or something?

  ‘No.’

  ‘So what does he do?’

  ‘Umm … he’s a businessman.’

  ‘Oh, what kind of business?’

  ‘Er … something to do with credit cards,’ I say vaguely.

  My sister is on to me straight away. ‘Are you hiding something, Dahlia?’

  ‘No, why?’

  ‘I don’t know. You sound sort of evasive. Is everything OK?’

  ‘Of course. It’s his birthday tomorrow and I’m just sitting here wrapping some presents for him.’

  ‘Oh yeah. How old is he tomorrow?’

  ‘Thirty-four.’

  ‘God, that’s old.’

  ‘No, it’s not,’ I say immediately.

  What did you get him anyway?’

  I pick up the unwrapped Star Wars flash drives and show them to her.

  ‘Cool,’ she says.

  ‘So what about you then? Everything OK with you?’ I ask.

  ‘Yeah. I think I might get promoted soon.’

  I beam at her. ‘Really? That’s fantastic.’

  ‘Yeah, Mr. Stevens said I was doing a fine job and that he might have some really good news for me next month.

  ‘That’s awesome, honey. You always give your best and you sooooo deserve it.’

  Daisy looks pleased.

  ‘Daisy?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Um … you know when you were kidnapped?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘You don’t have any lasting ill effects from it do you?’

  Her forehead creases. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean like flashbacks or bad dreams … or any phobias?’

  ‘Nah,’ she says immediately and I feel a great sense of relief. ‘Now it feels more like a dream. It’s so surreal. But I’m more careful now though. I wouldn’t trust strangers as easily as before.’

  ‘Do you hate the people who kidnapped you?’

  ‘No, but I feel guilty.’

  ‘Guilty? Why?’

  ‘Sometimes I think about those other girls. What has happened to them? Where are they now? Are they still even alive?’

  It makes me feel really bad that I can’t tell her there were no other girls. It was just a tape recorder. ‘Girls are abducted every day, Daisy. It just never directly touches us so we never think about it, but even if we did what can we do about it? In that respect we are as helpless as they are.’

  ‘I guess you’re right,’ she says slowly.

  ‘Just don’t think about them, OK. You can’t help them and you’ll just end up being less grateful for all the blessings you have.

  ‘Dahlia, can I ask you something?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Is this man you’re going out with the one that helped to find me?’

  My heart feels heavy. I’ve never deliberately kept a secret from my sister, but how can I ever tell her this? ‘Yes,’ I say. In a way it is not a lie. He had a hand in her release.

  ‘Maybe one day I can thank him myself,’ she says.

  ‘OK,’ I say with a smile.

  ‘Yeah, I’d like to. I feel really grateful to him. Give me your address and I’ll send him a card.’

  I text the address to her and we end the conversation. For a long time I stare at the Chewbacca flash drive feeling guilty and confused. It is such a big secret to keep forever, but maybe I won’t have to. Maybe one day when I have learned how to fly, when I have pulled Zane out of this life, I will sit Daisy down and tell her everything.

  I wrap the flash drives and go downstairs to see how Olga is coming along with her preparations for the party.

  Thirteen

  Dahlia Fury

  http://mp32016.xyz/play/happy-birthday-russian-song

  As it turns out, Zane is busy in the early evening and asks me to meet him at the restaurant at eight o’clock. This works out brilliantly as it means I can help prepare the living room and the bedroom. Olga and I fill the living room with balloons and streamers, hang up Happy Birthday banners, then I go upstairs to the bedroom and fill it with the hundred candles. I make a path that leads to the bed. Olga says she will get Noah to call her w
hen we are ten minutes away from the house.

  Then I have a long soak in the bath and think about the night ahead. My crafty plan is to don a very simple, sleeveless black dress with a high neck. Boring as hell and suitable for funerals, but it is the perfect cover story for what I plan to wear underneath. A halter neck chemise dress with horizontal slashes from the neckline to hem, and a lace-up back that basically leaves my bare bottom peeking out of the crisscross of the laces. With it I will team black thigh highs and scarily high heels. Naturally, I won’t wear any panties. Evil grin. He won’t know what hit him.

  Nun outside and slut inside, I go with Noah to meet Zane at Parma. We proceed to have a lovely dinner, but it kind of shocks me how utterly secretive he is. At no time during dinner does he ever mention that it is his birthday. His demeanor is so normal that I begin to doubt that it’s his birthday. Who completely ignores their birthday? What if Olga got it wrong? But it is too late to change my plans and so what if it is not his birthday? A party is a party, so I smile, laugh, eat, drink and tremble inside with suppressed excitement at the thought of what I have planned for him.

  It’s nearly ten thirty by the time we leave the restaurant, and I have to marvel at how fantastic these Russian men are at keeping secrets. There is nothing in Noah’s face to indicate he’s in on the plan. No secret wink, knowing smile, or tap on the nose. God, with all these stoic people around I pray my party doesn’t fall flat on its little face. Where is Stella when I need her?

  We walk in through the front door and from the corner of my eyes I can see Noah holding back.

  ‘I’m so sleepy today,’ I say, affecting a huge yawn.

  ‘It’s 10.30,’ Zane says.

  ‘Maybe one drink,’ I say, and start walking towards the living room where everyone is hiding. I open the door and suddenly Zane grabs me by my upper arm and jerks me back so I tumble against his body. A yelp of shock exits my mouth. What the hell? With lightning speed Zane closes the door and with his hand still gripping my arm turns towards Noah.

  ‘Why are there no lights in that room?’ Zane asks urgently. His face is wary, and his voice is low and tense.