Dirty Passions

by Wright, Kenya

  “Fine. Then, I’ll tell you now. I’m going to shut down that brothel this week.”

  “Mysh.” I frowned. “Be sure there are no vultures perched at the door waiting to feed on you. These women in the brothel are prey. That’s how he sees you too. Act swift and accordingly. Furthermore, I want you to tell me everything.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  “And David and Pavel move with you.” I wanted to be at her side, but if she was going to knock Abram down, she had to do this on her own.

  Or can I interfere? How do I play this out right?

  “Fine. I’ll use them. I have something else to bring up.” She picked up her pocketbook, dug into it, and brought out a black and white photograph. “The men that killed Yuri and his mother, I think they were looking for this picture.”

  I took the image and studied it.

  Dear God.

  My heart beats increased.

  Emily spoke, “Do you recognize anyone in that picture?”

  In the black and white photograph, six men stood in suits. A few had tattoos peeking out of the jackets from their wrists and near their collars. One of the men held a chain. On the other end, a naked black man sat on all fours on the floor.

  I didn’t want to deal with this, but I knew I had to. Things were finally starting to make since. I flipped the picture over. Someone had drawn the Knights of Babylon symbol on it.

  “Kaz?”

  I turned the picture back around and looked at her. “Yes. Unfortunately, I recognize the men.”

  She widened her eyes. “Who are they?”

  I set the image between us and pointed to the man with the chained leash and the poor, naked black guy on the other end. “That’s Zahkar’s father, Adrik.”

  “Holy shit. Zahkar’s father is the one holding the black man like a dog.” She leaned in closer. “What about everyone else?”

  “Yes.” Swallowing, I pointed to the one next to Zahkar’s father. “This is Sasha’s father—the one they called, The King. The one’s place I took in the brotherhood.”

  “I thought that Zahkar’s father, Adrik, was your father’s friend.”

  “They were all friends.” I pointed to the next man. “Which is why my father is right here.”

  Stunned, she pressed her mouth closed.

  I shook my head. “And this is Uncle Igor. You can’t tell because he had all his hair and it’s black. He looks better. This was when he was much younger, probably just met his wife. Misha definitely wasn’t born yet. This is Rolan and this is my god father. I never met him, and I don’t remember his name, but I know his face. My mother had photo albums full of him.”

  She stared at the picture.

  “They were really young here. Early twenties at least. Some could be eighteen or nineteen.”

  “What about the black man?”

  “I don’t know who that is, mysh. It’s odd, but. . .he looks familiar to me for some reason like I’ve seen him before.” I turned the picture over, unable to see the image anymore. “Never have I seen any of them do anything like this in my life. In fact, I’m disgusted and embarrassed. I. . .apologize that you even had to see this.”

  “You didn’t do it, Kaz.”

  I moved my hand, not even wanting to touch the image anymore. “There’s no way that my father or Rolan would have been okay with this. I have to talk to Rolan about this immediately.”

  “Where’s Adrik now?”

  “Dead. Killed in Siberia by an enemy gang long ago. Zahkar and I were teens.”

  “Do you think your father was a part of the Knights of Babylon?”

  “It’s possible. But he died in his twenties. He wouldn’t have been with them for long. We already know Uncle Igor was terrified of them, but everyone else. . .I have no idea.”

  “What about Rolan?”

  “The Big Bear? Couldn’t be. I’ve seen the loves of his life. They’re a rainbow of beautiful women—all colors and sizes. He always told me that he loves with the heart, not with the eyes. That’s why I can’t believe he’s even in this picture.”

  “Let’s hope this only happened, when they were young.”

  Bile rose in my throat. “Mysh, they stood next to Adrik while he walked around with a naked black man on a leash. Rolan will have to answer for this.”

  “When will you call him.”

  “This is bigger than a phone call. Rolan will need to talk to me face-to-face. I want to see him look at that picture in front of me. I’ll have Pavel send for him tonight. We’ll meet with Rolan tomorrow and talk to him.”

  “Okay.”

  “He’ll have answers. Goddamn it.” I stifled my grown, finished my vodka, and set the glass down. “Meanwhile. . .”

  “What?” She quirked her brows.

  “We have other developments.”

  “Like what?”

  “When I arrived at the house and went down to the cells, I saw this.” I took out my phone, pulled up the pictures, and handed the device to her. “These are the men from the security room. I was going to wait until after dinner, but after everything today, I doubt it’ll make you lose your appetite.”

  She studied the pictures. Many of the roughest men in the brotherhood would’ve flinched and held their stomachs. Emily flipped through the images and even zoomed in on some of the cuts on the peeled face man.

  “That’s interesting.” She went to the second man and zoomed in. “Hmmm.”

  “Who do you think killed them?”

  Frowning, she handed the phone back to me. “Well. . .this looks familiar, but I could be wrong.”

  “Yes?”

  “It looks like Jean-Pierre or some other psychotic maniac that enjoys peeling people’s faces off.”

  “You’re correct. You know your creepy friend well.”

  She shook her head. “And you were right. He was going to try and get to the people in charge before us. What are you going to do about this?”

  “Well, mysh. There’s much more to the story. You weren’t the only one who had a little battle today.”

  She widened her eyes. “What happened?”

  Before I could speak, a bustle of waiters rounded our table. In a beautiful ceremony, they brought over porcelain plates filled with White Rabbit’s top dishes. The men placed the plates in the middle of the table.

  One -by-one each man described the dish. The whole time, Emily scowled at me.

  When they left, I proceeded to eat. Every bite hit the tongue. Delicious and succulent. The meat was tender. The soups sweet and succulent. I ate steadily, and hardly exchanged a word until I had a taste of each dish.

  Meanwhile, Emily cleared her throat. “Kazimir, what happened?”

  “Full name? I must be in trouble.”

  “You’re supposed to update me, when you’re in trouble too.”

  “I don’t remember that promise.”

  “Kaz.”

  I wiped my hands on cloth napkin. “Jean-Pierre attempted to kidnap me.”

  Stunned, Emily dropped her fork.

  “I must admit it wasn’t a bad try. He waited in our bedroom with several men, pointing their guns.”

  She bared her teeth. “I’m going to kill him.”

  “No need. Later, I discovered that he had never planned to grab me. We had just interrupted his interrogation and he thought he should seize the opportunity. But in all fairness, how else would he have gotten off the property.”

  “He could have just waited in the bedroom, until you left.”

  “What if I didn’t.”

  “Are you okay?”

  I leaned my head to the side. “Did I seem hurt, when I was fucking you in the limo?”

  Emily took a bite of her food. “What happened?”

  “He held me at gunpoint and guided me out of the house.” I took a sip of the second glass of vodka that had been newly placed on my table. “Jean-Pierre’s mistake was not tying me up, and for not having more men in the vehicle. But again, it was never a well-thought out pl
an to begin with and he’s extremely cocky.”

  She reached her hand across the table and touched mine. “Are you okay?”

  Loving her babying me, I grinned. “I got free, crashed the vehicle, and my men took him.”

  “So, wait a minute. You have Jean-Pierre now?”

  “And Giorgio?”

  “The Butler?” She raised her brows. “I didn’t meet him. Hold up. . .you really have the French. When were you going to tell me?”

  “We had to deal with your insubordination first.”

  “Insubordination my ass. You kidnapped the French and didn’t even say anything?”

  “It was a soft kidnapping.” I raised my hands. “But I didn’t plan on it. Like him, I seized the opportunity too.”

  “Wait. Where the hell are they?”

  “In the apartment next to us. Max and David’s—”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you were in trouble.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “I had to make sure you were okay.” I grabbed some of the oysters and ate them.

  Stunned, she stared at me. “Did Jean-Pierre say who is threatening me with the monkey heads?”

  “He’s refusing to talk unless you’re around. I considered torturing him, but he has some experience in pain. Men like him can go days with getting cut. I’m sure he could take a beating and some roughing up. It wouldn’t be fun, unless I could kill him. For now, he has to stay alive.”

  “And when do we talk to him?”

  “You need your rest. Let’s do it in the morning.”

  “No way. I’m ready to end all of this as soon as possible. We talk to him tonight.”

  “No. The longer Jean-Pierre sits in that room, the more the cockiness withers away. With him, it must be contemplation. Chess moves.” I ate some of the other platters food. “And you and my baby need rest.”

  A smile hit her face. “You plan on managing my health this whole pregnancy?”

  “I’m concerned.”

  “Have you provided the French with reasonable sleeping quarters and food?”

  “Yes. Although Giorgio has complained about the cleanliness of the bedding.”

  “He’s the Butler. Hygiene is his thing.”

  “He washed one of the men, before torturing and killing him. He has a deeper problem than cleanliness.”

  “That’s odd.”

  “Also, Jean-Pierre didn’t like the borscht my chef made. I’m considering bringing him our half eaten leftovers.”

  “You’re not going to taunt him.” Shaking her head, Emily returned to eating her food. “Let’s have the chef make Jean-Pierre a proper French dinner. Then, everyone can sleep this evening. Tomorrow, they get breakfast, and then we start finding out everything in the morning.”

  “You can wait that long?”

  “I admit that after the stuff in Kapotnya, and our session in the limo, I’m exhausted.”

  “Good.” I sipped my vodka. “This will all be over tomorrow. The mystery will finally be solved.”

  “Or it will all begin.”

  “By the way, even though Jean-Pierre killed the security men, I checked on the brands. Two of them had the symbols on their stomach. Coincidentally those were the two that Jean-Pierre butchered the most.”

  “Then, Jean-Pierre definitely knows something.”

  “Oh yes. He knows something. Now, let’s see if he’ll tell us.”

  “It looks like we should get some definite answers tomorrow.”

  “Perhaps.”

  The waiter took our dishes.

  Dessert would come next.

  I pulled out my phone and called Pavel.

  “Kazimir?”

  “I need you to do something for me.”

  “Anything.”

  “Have Rolan get on the next plane. I have some questions for him. Tell him it’s an emergency.”

  “Why? Are there questions that you can’t answer on the phone?”

  “Get him on the plane,” I growled. “And put more men on Zahkar and Abram.”

  A new set of waiters brought over trays of desserts and set the dishes on the table.

  Pavel spoke, “Any reason I should be aware of?”

  “I’m just concerned for their safety.”

  “I’ll get it done, but I need to know if there is any danger to you.”

  “There is always danger to me, Pavel. Just do what I asked, and everything will be fine.”

  I ended the call and put my phone away. “I hope to God my father, Uncle Igor, and even Rolan had nothing to do with this sort of stuff. If they did, then they are not the men I thought they were.”

  “At least they’re not smiling in the picture. They actually look uncomfortable.”

  “They should’ve never let Adrik do that to another human being. My uncle and father’s generation had rules. A honor system. I saw them as traditional and had a great respect for them. Now. . .now I don’t know what to think.”

  “We won’t assume anything until we’ve talked to Rolan.”

  “We won’t.”

  Emily spooned some of her ice cream. “You’re exhausted, baby.”

  “I am.” I stared at the plates of dessert with no appetite at all. “After we settle this, we’ll need a vacation.”

  “Where to?”

  “Anywhere with a beach, and not one French person in sight.”

  “Touché.” And then she laughed. “Or am I using that word wrong?”

  “It doesn’t matter. That’s the only French you’ll say this year.”

  She grinned. “Yes, lion.”

  Chapter 25

  Deals and Bargains

  Emily

  The next morning, we woke to breakfast in bed. I had no appetite. Adrenaline rushed through me chasing the hunger away.

  Today was the time for answers. David had announced that Rolan would be arriving in Moscow in less than an hour. He had no problem rushing to Kaz, when he requested his uncle’s presence. Too bad the reunion might not be a friendly one. We would also question Jean-Pierre soon, and then Rolan by the afternoon. Between both men, Kaz and I would shed light on the enemies within the shadows, lurking, and hungry for our blood.

  Only eating half of my breakfast, I left the bed, took a shower, and dressed fast.

  Kaz did too.

  After all was done, worry crossed his face. Since seeing the photo from Yuri’s place, he had been in a dark mood. Today should not only bring answers, but calm his nerves.

  Once we were both dressed, we left the bedroom.

  Boris and Pavel met us outside.

  Boris stepped forward. “Emily, can I talk to you in private?”

  I checked Kaz.

  He didn’t look pleased, but remained quiet.

  “I’ll be right back.” I walked over to the corner with him.

  Boris whispered in my ear, “Emily, my cousin, Natasha. . .”

  “Yes?”

  His voice went weak. “The rehab director told me that Natasha was found dead in her room this morning. Shot in the forehead.”

  Bratva style. Simple and clean.

  Pain dotted his face. “I think it was Abram.”

  I tried to keep my rage deep inside of me. “I’ll do everything to find out who did this. And if he put in the kill order, then I’ll get him, so you can kill him.”

  With a neutral expression, he muttered, “I believe you.”

  What could I do to make him feel better? How could I stop the craziness? First, someone killed his best friend, Yuri. Second, they took away Yuri’s mother. Now, they murdered Boris’s twelve year old cousin. The injustice had piled up and no amount of blood would suffice.

  My voice went hoarse. “I’m sorry.”

  “I just thought. . .I should tell you.” Boris turned away. “We have to find someone else to question about the brothel. The job may be pushed back.”

  “Fuck the job.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “I know you’re in pain and tired of losing people. We
fix this shit today. I promise.”

  Boris stared at me. “I feel. . .”

  “Powerless? Don’t. We’ll fix all this shit soon. Just stay close and safe. I’ll get Kaz and his men on this. We’ll end this today. I swear.”

  For the first time upon meeting him, Boris didn’t look convinced.

  My heart ached.

  Kaz called from the other side of the room. “Mysh, let’s go.”

  “We’ll talk more later.” I patted his back and then walked away. Deep inside I prayed I gave him hope. I knew that I wouldn’t sleep until Natasha, and the other girls had received some form of justice.

  I fucked up.

  Instead of giving Kaz a blow job in the limo or having an immaculate dinner, I could have met with Natasha and ended that brothel. What the hell have I really done since getting Kapotnya?

  Guilt filled me.

  Kaz took my hand and led us out of the apartment. “Are you okay?”

  “No.”

  We stood in front of David and Max’s door. Neither one of us knocked. Our men remained behind us.

  Kaz looked at me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Abram killed Boris’s twelve year old cousin. She was found dead this morning.”

  “How do you know it was him?”

  “She worked in Abram’s brothel. Boris and Yuri rescued her from the place a while ago—”

  “She worked there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Twelve?”

  I swallowed. “Yes.”

  The darkness around him didn’t lighten. If anything, a blacker spirit hovered over my lion.

  Gloom deepened his voice. “Abram will be dealt with. For now, focus on the French and Rolan.”

  “And who will deal with Abram?”

  “Let me handle that. For now, focus.”

  I let out a long breath. “Okay.”

  Kaz knocked.

  A minute later, David opened the door. “I’m glad you’re here. Our guests are by far the most royal spoiled-asses I’ve ever hosted.”

  We entered.

  I checked out the living room. The place had the same setup and design as our place, and almost designed. A lot of the same furniture filled the apartment.

  The only big difference was that the air stank of marijuana.

  We moved deeper inside.

  On the right, Max sat on the couch smoking a joint. He held it up as if proclaiming a cheers. “To the King and Queen.”