Dirty Obsessions: An Interracial Russian Mafia Romance (The Lion and The Mouse Book 5.5)

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Dirty Obsessions: An Interracial Russian Mafia Romance (The Lion and The Mouse Book 5.5) Page 2

by Kenya Wright


  I’ll be a better father to Natalya. I’ll be proud of whatever she does and give her all my support.

  Valentina showed me the significance of a father. Hers adored her so much. When he was killed, she descended into madness and depression. We all spoiled her for years because of it.

  And now she thinks she can do anything like keep my daughter away from me. Sorry, Valentina, but it’s time for a wake-up call.

  I thought of my pushing Natalya in a stroller. In the vision, Ava walked on my side.

  Shit.

  The image disappeared.

  I still have to tell Ava. What will she think about this?

  Terror hit me. Several scenarios came to mind. Terror coated each one.

  What if my being a father turned her off? She hates Valentina for killing Olesya. Ava may not want to be with me due to this.

  Thankfully, Maxwell and Rolan distracted me from these thoughts.

  Maxwell asked, “So, Rolan. Everyone has a nickname in the Brotherhood. What do they call you?”

  The elevator doors slid open.

  With no hint of humor, Rolan whispered to Maxwell. “In the Brotherhood, they call me the One that Has the Big Cock.”

  I stepped on the elevator. “He’s the Big Bear.”

  Laughing, Maxwell got on too. “I was about to say.”

  Rolan followed. “Some do call me the One that Has the Big Cock.”

  “They don’t.” I rolled my eyes.

  Maxwell glanced my way. “What’s your nickname? Something to do with high tech shit? The Wizard? The Master Computer?”

  I smirked. “Something like that.”

  The doors closed.

  “Some call him the Mosquito.” Rolan chuckled. “Others call him the Crow.”

  I sighed.

  “The Mosquito?” Maxwell shook his head. “Crow is kind of cool, but mosquito. . .”

  I frowned. “Only Kazimir calls me the Crow.”

  Rolan agreed, “That was when Misha jumped into hacking.”

  “Why did he think of you as a crow?” Maxwell asked.

  I turned to him. “Think of old fantasy tales or mystical stories. There’s always a crow around. Sometimes it’s a spiritual guide bringing messages.”

  Maxwell squinted. “Like Edgar Allan Poe?”

  “No. That was a Raven.”

  “I like Raven.” Rolan nodded. “Perhaps, we should call you that.”

  “No. I’m not the Crow or the Raven.” I shook my head. “I’m the Mosquito. Let them whisper it behind my back. When people think of deadly animals, they picture lions, sharks, and snakes.”

  “Here we go.” Rolan let out a long breath.

  I raised my finger. “But the deadliest animal in the world, in terms of how many people it kills every year, is the mosquito.”

  Maxwell nodded. “Yo, I didn’t know that.”

  “Over 700,000 people die from mosquitos.”

  Rolan held his hands out. “Why must you beat us in the head with these facts, Mikhail?”

  “Snakes only kill around 50,000. For lions, it’s 100 deaths. And Sharks barely kill 10 people a year.”

  “Yes, Mikhail.”

  The elevator lowered. The doors slid open.

  I stepped off. “Granted, the mosquito doesn’t kill on its own. What makes the tiny creature so dangerous is its capacity to transmit viruses that cause devastating diseases.”

  “Hmmm.” Maxwell walked on my side. “I like that for you. You could fuck up someone’s computer with a virus.”

  I beamed. “Maxwell, I could engineer a simple global computer virus that would disrupt the operations of businesses and government agencies all over the world.”

  We made it to the limo.

  My guard held the door open for us.

  We climbed inside.

  “One hacker did just that.” I sat down. “His name is Circuit. He created a simple virus that caused disruption from big financial institutions like Ford and Merrill Lynch to America’s Pentagon and the British Parliament. This all resulted in 10 billion dollars in damage and. . .” I smiled. “He did it all in the name of love.”

  Maxwell pulled out a joint and pressed the button on the door. His window went down.

  Rolan lit his joint for him. “Hurry. We must do this before the little butterfly appears.”

  I scowled at him. “Stop calling Ava’s grandmother a butterfly. You haven’t even met her yet.”

  Maxwell inhaled the joint and then passed it to Rolan. “But when you meet Mrs. Jones, you’ll dig her for sure.”

  Rolan bobbed his head at Maxwell. “You said she had a nice rack.”

  “She does.”

  “You two are talking about her breasts?” I grimaced. “Are we men or ogres?”

  “Ogres.” Rolan coughed and passed the joint to me.

  Reluctantly, I took it.

  “Yeah. Ogres.” Maxwell grinned. “When a chick has a nice rack you have to recognize that. God did that. I didn’t do it. I never ignore the beautiful work of God.”

  Rolan gave him a thumbs up. “Correct.”

  Maxwell grinned. “But why did this Circuit disrupt all these government’s computers and shit for love?”

  I took a hit of the joint. Smoke spilled from my lips. “Circuit is this skinny guy with a mop of bleached white hair. He sweats a lot and carries around this red towel.”

  I handed the joint to Maxwell. “Circuit had two simple goals. First, he wanted to tell everyone he loved them. Second, he thought that people spent too much time on their computers. So, he authored a virus that simply told every affected computer I LOVE YOU over and over so that they would be forced to get off their computers and go outside.”

  “That’s fucked up.” Maxwell inhaled the joint.

  “Tens of millions of computers around the world were affected.”

  “But how did it work?” Maxwell asked.

  “A person sees an email with the subject ‘I LOVE YOU.’ As soon as they open it, the virus takes control, sending copies of itself to everyone in the person’s email address book. Those recipients, thinking the email was either an odd joke or a serious declaration of love, open the email and spread it further. Meanwhile, everyone’s hard drive is destroyed, and most files are deleted. In five hours, ILOVEYOU spread across Asia, Europe, and North America, triggering internet mania.”

  “Circuit didn’t do it for the love of everyone.” Rolan shook his head. “He did it because he’s a psycho.”

  “Genius or psycho. It was superior malware but so simplistic.” I kissed the tips of my fingers. “Artistic in every digital way that counts.”

  Maxwell handed the joint to Rolan. “The Mosquito sounds like he’s a fan of Circuit.”

  I nodded. “A huge fan.”

  “What happened to him?” Maxwell widened his eyes. “I bet his ass is under the jail.”

  “Circuit is a free man.” I smiled. “Somehow, no government has been able to discover his whereabouts.”

  Rolan grimaced. “However. . .”

  “What?” I shrugged.

  Rolan took a hit from the joint and gave it to me. “Tell him, Mikhail.”

  “However.” I grabbed the joint. “I found Circuit years ago, and now he works for me. I keep him well-hidden and he does tasks that I need from time to time.”

  “And that is why Kazimir calls Misha the Crow.” Rolan beamed with pride. “Mikhail has a magical knack for finding the unfindable. A way of delivering messages to those that can’t receive them.”

  “But I like Mosquito.” I inhaled the joint and blew out smoke. “In these past days, it’s grown on me.”

  Maxwell grabbed the joint from me. “I dig it, man. You can spread viruses like a mosquito. Who’s fucking with that?”

  I winked at Maxwell. “This is why we’re homeys. You understand.”

  “Wow.” Instead of smoking the joint, he laughed. “I kind of wish I never started calling you that.”

  “It’s too late.”

 
Rolan crossed his big legs. “Since you’re in a nice chatty mood, Mikhail.”

  I sighed.

  “After the ballet, Maxwell and you will leave for Paris?”

  I thought of Ava’s naked body trembling under me. “I changed our schedule to tomorrow morning—”

  “Why?”

  “Ava needs some time.”

  Rolan roared. “Enough with your avoidance!”

  Maxwell jumped a little.

  I ignored Rolan and looked out of the window. “It’s a small delay, batya.”

  “But your delays are more than a few hours. They’ve turned into days. A lot can happen in Paris. Now is the time to be there.”

  “It’ll be fine.”

  Rolan’s voice rose as he shifted to Russian, “Kazimir won’t let you take a back seat anymore. Stop avoiding him and do not let this problem with the nukes continue to get out of hand.”

  I responded in Russian. “I already told you that I cannot be on Kazimir’s side. It’s a full-time job. And I sent Naveen to Paris.”

  “Naveen will not be enough. The Mosquito should be there.” Rolan returned to English. “You must leave this evening.”

  Pain hit my temples. I rubbed my forehead. “Tomorrow morning.”

  “In the morning? Then it must be one in the morning.”

  I glared at him. “No. I meant eight in the morning.”

  “Two in the morning.”

  I growled. “Four in the morning is as early as I will raise it.”

  Rolan sighed. “Fine. Four in the morning. That should give you time to see your ballerina dance, stick it to her, and get on the plane.”

  Directing my view to the window, I mumbled, “Stick it to her.”

  Maxwell cleared his throat. “And I’m coming to Paris with you?”

  “Yes. Rolan will remain behind to watch over Ava and her grandmother. Once we’re done in Paris, then we will return to St Petersburg. After that, all of us will go to Prague to bury my father.”

  While Rolan doted on me like a father, he was the Big Bear. Murderous. Treacherous. Nothing went by him. And any enemy that came near him was sure to die. Ava and her grandmother would be safe with him.

  “The more I think of it, Mikhail. . .” Rolan sighed. “I should come with you to Paris.”

  I frowned. “Batya, you’re staying.”

  “I’m not staying in St Petersburg.” Rolan shifted back to Russian. “I will follow you to Paris to get the codes.”

  I massaged my forehead. “You said you would watch over Ava.”

  “I will not leave your side until you do your proper duty as Igor’s son and Kazimir’s cousin.”

  “No. You will protect Ava.”

  “I don’t trust you to be responsible.”

  Shocked, I asked, “Why not?”

  Rolan returned to English. “Because of new pussy, Mikhail.”

  Maxwell choked on weed smoke.

  “New pussy is very dangerous.” Rolan wagged his finger at me. “A man always wants to sit inside of it. He ignores his duties. He forgets all that is important.”

  I scowled. “Ava is more than new pussy which is why you’ll stay here.”

  “I won’t.” Rolan nodded. “I’m coming with you to Paris.”

  The limo stopped.

  Maxwell damped out the joint and put it away.

  I growled. “We’ll finish this conversation later.”

  “We won’t. I’m coming and that is final.” Rolan scooted over, opened the door, and stepped out, blocking my view with his ass.

  Mrs. Jones's voice sounded from outside. “Hello, are you with Misha?”

  Rolan didn’t respond.

  I leaned forward and called out, “Yes, Mrs. Jones. Sorry. My godfather came to St Petersburg for a surprise visit.”

  Silent, Rolan remained standing and blocking the door.

  I leaned forward. “Batya, please let Mrs. Jones by.”

  Saying nothing, he moved to the side.

  Mrs. Jones slowly climbed in. And I saw what might have caught Rolan’s tongue. She was a vision to behold. A slightly older version of Ava, but not by much. Lovely brown skin. Tonight her wig was long, black, and teasing her shoulders. She wore a sparkling silver gown with a curve-hugging silhouette. It was strapless and held her cleavage up as if offering a taste to any viewer.

  Maxwell straightened up in his seat. “You look amazing as always, Jackie.”

  “It’s Mrs. Jones, sweetie.” She sat next to me.

  “That’s right. I keep forgetting.” Maxwell lowered the window in the limo and fanned the smoke out.

  Rolan still had not climbed into the limo.

  “Batya?” I held my hands out. “Come on. I don’t want to be late.”

  Finally, he climbed back inside and sat across from Mrs. Jones and me. His gaze remained on her. There weren’t many times when I witnessed my godfather go speechless.

  Dear God. Here we go.

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Jones.” Rolan stroked his goatee.

  “Nice to meet you too.” She gave him a gentle smile. “And your name?”

  “Rolan. Many call me the Big Bear. One day, you will call me that too.”

  I frowned. “No. Rolan is fine. She won’t be calling you the Big Bear.”

  Mrs. Jones laughed. “Yeah. I like Rolan much better.”

  Like a creepy old man, he continued to stroke his goatee.

  I scowled at him and spoke in Russian. “You know what? I think you are correct. You should come to Paris with me.”

  “No.” Rolan lowered his hands, knitted his fingers in his lap, and responded in Russian. “I should remain in St Petersburg to watch over Ava and the little butterfly.”

  I spoke in Russian. “She is not a butterfly.”

  Rolan ignored me and shifted back to English. “Mrs. Jones, do you like Diana Ross?”

  “I do.”

  “You look just like her.” Rolan gave Mrs. Jones a wicked smile. “I am her biggest fan.”

  Mrs. Jones laughed. “I doubt it. Some would say I am.”

  “No. I am.” Rolan flirted. “In June 1995, she came to Moscow and performed at the Kremlin Palace.”

  Mrs. Jones widened her eyes. “I never knew that.”

  Rolan raised his hands in the air. “There were over 6,000 fans and I was there. Right in the front. She sang, I’m Coming Out, Chain Reaction, Baby Love, and other songs. But when she finished, I went in the back along with the president and said hello.”

  “Oh my.” Mrs. Jones blinked. “You met Diana Ross.”

  “I did.” He gave her a wicked grin. “Perhaps I could introduce you two.”

  I leaned back in the seat, hoping the limo driver would hurry to the theater. I didn’t need Rolan putting the moves on Mrs. Jones. I had enough problems going on.

  Maxwell cleared his throat. “Yeah. You do look like Diana Ross, but even more beautiful.”

  Mrs. Jones smiled at him. “Thank you.”

  Rolan chuckled. “I’m surprised you know who Diana Ross is, Maxwell. Surely, you are too young and. . .inexperienced.”

  I shook my head.

  “Inexperienced?” Maxwell snorted. “I’m well-experienced. I can do a lot of damage.”

  Rolan muttered, “I doubt it.”

  Mrs. Jones grinned. “Are we still talking about Diana Ross?”

  “Yes, babochka.”

  Mrs. Jones quirked her brows. “Ba what?”

  “It means Mrs. Jones in Russian. Please allow me to call you that.” Rolan smiled. “My English can be rusty at times. I’m just a simple man.”

  Maxwell smirked. “You know how to say Mrs. Jones.”

  I wished I could deliver messages to Rolan’s mind. Perhaps he would lower the level of ridiculousness for the evening. Already, I couldn’t wait for the limo to get to the theater.

  Surprisingly, Mrs. Jones leaned a little forward and studied Rolan. “And you came to visit your godson?”

  Rolan nodded. “His father passed. I must take up
the job.”

  Her smile deepened. “That is the job of a godfather.”

  “Mikhail must bury his father. Unfortunately, your granddaughter has been a distraction.”

  I loudly cleared my throat.

  Rolan held up his hand. “But she’s distracted him in a good way.”

  Mrs. Jones gave me a weak smile. “I do believe that he’s been distracted. However, I’m happy he was here to. . .help Ava in her time of need.”

  “And now I’m here to help in any way.” Rolan stroked his goatee again. “You’re fifty-two?”

  Maxwell grinned. “It’s rude to ask a lady her age.”

  “That’s fine, Maxwell. I don’t mind.” Mrs. Jones crossed her legs. “Yes. I’m fifty-two.”

  “And Ava is in her early twenties?” Rolan raised his eyebrows. “How is that possible? When did you have—”

  “Rolan, I believe that’s enough questions.” I frowned.

  Mrs. Jones waved the comment away. “It’s fine. Those that aren’t close to me often wonder the same thing. I had my son at thirteen years old. Just a kid, I wasn’t the best mother to him at all. . .”

  Rolan shook his head. “You were young.”

  “Too young to be a proper parent. When my son hit fourteen, I stressed with him to use protection and not have sex if possible. I told him many things. Focus on your books. Go to college. Stay out of those New York streets.” She sighed. “But I was working three jobs by then and had no control of him. By the time he turned fifteen, he came home and told me his girlfriend was pregnant. Ava’s mother. They were both knuckleheads. I hadn’t even made it to my thirties and was already a grandmother. We were all too young. Too stupid. Too uninformed.”

  She gazed out of the limo window. “When Ava’s parents died I promised to do right by her and change the destiny of our family. See. . .”

  She turned our way. “My mother had me at a young age too. And her mother and so on. Young mother after young mother. I used to think of it as a family curse. I wanted different for Ava.”

  “My mother had me at fourteen.” Rolan nodded. “Such was the way of that generation.”

  “Still, Ava ended the family curse.” She beamed. “My black prima ballerina. She’s headstrong and focused. She’s knocking down all barriers in front of her.”

  “And I assume you had a lot to do with that,” Rolan added.

  “Maybe. I learned from my mistakes with my son and chose another path of parenting with Ava. I kept a tight ship and never let her out of my sight. If she wasn’t in ballet class or at school, then she sat her little self at my job. While I cleaned offices, she did her homework in the building’s conference room.”

 

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