“Thank you, brothers!” Kazimir’s voice boomed over the ballroom. My body tensed from the sound. I’d been so used to the romantic side of my lion. It had been a long time since I’d heard him roar. “Thank you for coming. Thank you for fighting with me all these years.”
The crowd got rowdy. Although they were in tuxedos, I could see the street in them. One guy in the far back yelled out something about blood. Others laughed.
“Yes, my brothers, and thank you for spilling all the blood. We’ve made a lot of cities glow red in our time.” Kazimir smirked. “And there will be more blood to spill.”
Everyone paused. Humor left most of their faces. A few wives stirred.
“But now is not that time.” Kazimir gave me his hand. The crowd relaxed. He gently guided me to stand next to him. “Tonight, we celebrate the death of traitors.”
I rose. My heart boomed in my ears.
“Tonight, we celebrate a new friend to the brotherhood.” Kazimir’s words rose in the air. “Meet Emily from New York, a woman who has saved me more than once and helped me kill many.”
I swallowed as all attention turned to me.
“Take your time.” Kazimir held an edge in those words as if the statement held double meaning. “Look at her face. Know it.”
I held a smile on my face but on the inside, I was cringing.
Listen, Kaz. They don’t need to be staring at me all night.
“She is to be protected as we protect all those we love.”
I spied Zahkar grabbing his wife’s hand and nodding.
“If something happens to her...” Kazimir switched to that earlier language—fenya.
I couldn’t catch the words. He spoke so fast. A few men widened their eyes at his statements. Nikolay grinned and shook his head. I did my best not to look confused, but it was difficult as another man wiped new sweat that had beaded on his face.
That’s not fair, Kaz. I don’t know what you’re saying.
“Cheers.” Kazimir finished and took a drink from his glass.
Everyone followed although a few appeared nervous as fuck when they took their sips. The rest cheered.
Kazimir signaled the rock band. Crucifix returned to playing, but this time they did a soft ballad.
“We should dance. Enough have talked to you.” Kazimir’s face brightened as he set his glass down.
“I only met two of your candidates.” I followed.
“That’s good for now.” He guided me to the dancefloor.
It wasn’t until I got in his arms that I asked, “What did you tell them in fenya?”
“The truth.”
“Which was what?”
“That I would end the world, if you were gone.”
“Just the world? Not the universe or galaxy?”
“I don’t have the weapons for that, yet. With this world, someone will make that weapon. Humans can’t help themselves.”
The ballad played on. The singer’s voice flowed over the guitar’s strumming. Several other couples came out onto the dancefloor.
“Hmmm.” Kazimir watched someone behind me. I looked over my shoulder. The one guy I hadn’t met at our table rose from the table and walked toward the doors. The woman who came with him remained at the table, watching him leave. Worry creased her face.
Is he leaving before I can meet him? No. Can’t be.
I checked him again. All I could make out was a big frame and red hair. I whispered to Kazimir, “Who’s that?”
“The last candidate you haven’t met. Abram.”
“Is he leaving?”
“Probably.” Kazimir watched him some more and then looked at me. “He was very quiet this evening. Stiff and uptight.”
“Nervous?”
“No, but something.”
“Do you want me to check him out?”
Kazimir laughed. “I know more about Abram than he knows about himself.”
“Still—”
“No. These are not men I would have you check out. The things these men have done to dance in this ballroom tonight...it would scare the average person. And although there’s nothing average about you, I don’t want you around them.”
“I wonder why Abram left.”
“It doesn’t matter. We have meetings this week. Territories to divide. Positions to fill. They’ll remain in Moscow until we’ve decided everything.”
Kazimir caught me up as much as he could. He explained that when a Bratva member died, especially a high level, his territory and products needed to be handed over to a new person within a week of his death. If not, by rule of the brotherhood, anyone could fight the other for it. Sasha, Luka, and even Oleg’s deaths had put a lot of wealth on the table, ready to be taken. While these men may have rushed to the party to see what the lion’s mouse looked like, a lot had come to get their slice of the money pie.
But why did Abram leave so early?
I glanced over my shoulder again. He’d definitely walked out right after Kazimir’s speech as if he’d been insulted by something.
The dinner hadn’t even began.
I spotted the table. Nikolay and his wife had gone to the floor to dance. While Nikolay lovingly gazed at his wife, Anya stared Kazimir’s way. She noticed me catch her and snapped away her view.
Hmmm.
The rock band switched to hard hitting music.
“Oh! This is my favorite.” Kazimir went wild.
I widened my eyes, trying to follow the lead singer’s rapid Russian over the guitar.
Kazimir began yelling out the lyrics. Nikolay appeared on his side and screamed out the words with him as he did some fast, stomping motion.
Oh wow. This is apparently a crowd favorite.
More rushed out on the floor. Excitement hit me as I danced fast with my crazy lion, laughing the whole way through. Never had I seen Kaz like this before—pumping his hands in the air, jumping with some of his other brothers as they screamed and yelled out the lyrics.
All I could do was chuckle, scream out garbled Russian, and jump too. Somehow, my heels survived it. The music was like heroin to the bloodstream, hard with no sign of calming down.
Kazimir punched and jumped in the air, screaming. Pure happiness covered his face. For the hundredth time, I knew I could never walk away from him.
The dinner party went on for hours.
We ate and drank, laughed, and danced.
Abram shouldn’t have left. It made him suspicious to me.
Nikolay and Zahkar were slowly winning me over. They shared a few things about Kazimir, when he wasn’t dragging me away and twirling me around the floor. While Zahkar had known Kazimir since they were little boys and had even been in Kaz’s first gang, Nikolay knew Kazimir when he’d become the lion.
Both seemed loyal, but the jury was still out.
By the time dessert arrived, Kazimir had slipped us out of the ballroom, lifted me up in one full sweep, and hurried me to the staircase.
Very tipsy and in an awesome mood, I held onto him. “Where are we going?”
“We’re done.”
“Really, Kaz? You have guests.”
“We have guests.” He shrugged as he carried me. “They know their way out.”
I giggled. “You’re being possessive.”
“No. Being possessive is taking you to the middle of the dancefloor and fucking you until you squirt over my cock just to let them know there’s no competition.”
“You wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t want anyone to see.”
“But I don’t mind if they hear.”
“You would.”
“How wet are your panties right now?”
“None of your business,” I teased.
Kaz had me at the top of the stairs in no time. “You’re lucky I didn’t have this gown off earlier. I wanted to tear it apart.”
I kissed his cheek as he carried me to our bedroom. “I would love to have you tear this off.”
“Oh, mysh.” He kissed me and somehow got us to the d
oor and opened it. Such a multitasker. I could barely keep up with him.
He closed the door and lowered me so I could stand. The lights were off. There was no need to turn them on. Faint moonlight glowed lines through the window, giving us enough of a view. The rest of the space was covered in silhouettes and shadows.
I inched away as he tried to grab me, loving to tease him. “Teach me some fenya words.”
“Come here.”
“I won’t.” I edged back.
He charged for me.
I shrieked as we landed on the bed and was close to laughing until something sticky and wet smeared along my back and arms.
What’s this?
I sniffed.
Blood? No.
More of the warm liquid coated my back and some seeped through the gown, wetting my bottom. Blood or not, the bed was soaked with it.
Kazimir must’ve noticed too. He cursed and moved away from the bed. I hurried up, scared of what we would see.
“Emily—”
“I’m fine.”
He turned on the light, and we directed our attention to the bed.
What the fuck?
On the bed, several cut-off monkey heads lay in a pattern, forming a word. There must’ve been twenty tiny heads. Blood pooled around each one.
I walked over to it.
“No, stay behind me.”
“There’s nothing to get me. They’re already dead.” I tried to make out the word, but they were definitely Russian letters. “What does it say?”
“It’s ‘welcome.’”
“In Russian?”
“In fenya.”
I let out a long breath. “Well...at least I learned my first word.”
Kazimir said nothing. Anger radiated from his frame. I scanned the rest of the room. Nothing else had been touched.
“So...” I swallowed the anger beginning to rise in me. “In America, a monkey tends to be what a racist person would call a black person.”
Kazimir fisted his hands.
I wiped some of the blood away with my gown. “What about in Moscow?”
“Whoever did this will die.”
“Do you have idea who it could be?”
“No, but they better run.” He stormed off and called his guards. “Get someone to pull fingerprints!”
His guards rushed in. Shock hit their faces. One guard had even pulled out his gun and scanned the room.
Kazimir paced around the bed, yelling out orders. “Check the footage for the room, hallway, and anything else! I want to know who did this and who helped! I want to know everything, the type of monkeys and the knife used to cut their heads off!”
All I could do was stare at that bed and count each head.
I was right. Twenty.
Someone took the time to cut the heads off twenty monkeys. How did they transport them to the house without causing a smell? Where did all the blood come from on the bed? If he’d cut them far away, there should’ve been less blood. Did they cut them in our bedroom?
I studied the floor.
No. Not a drop. They must’ve had containers of blood and spilled it on the bed.
The person could’ve simply sent a racist card, but he wanted me to know how hard he would go with his message. He’d cut off monkey heads and put them right on the bed where Kazimir lay. One thing I knew, this man was fearless and suicidal.
Kazimir walked over to me and pulled me into his arms. “I’m so sorry, mysh.”
“This isn’t your fault.”
“But I’ll take care of it.”
I pulled back from him and pierced him with my gaze. “No. Trust me, I’ll take care of this.”
“You would have to beat me to him.”
“Then it’ll be a fun race.”
Kazimir glared back at the bed. “No, mysh, there won’t be anything fun about this.”
A sigh escaped me as I got back into his hold and leaned my head against his chest. By now, several guards had entered the room, taking pictures and making calls. Someone had wanted to deliver a message to Kazimir and me.
What are you saying? I’m a monkey? Soon to be a dead one?
For the first time since arriving in Moscow, I wished Maxwell was there. These next days would be nerve-wracking. All the Bratva’s top officials were here, and now we had some psycho cutting off monkey heads and doing ballsy moves by placing them on our bed.
Kazimir’s mansion was a giant fortress. This had to be an inside job, involving several people. How could anyone have gone through the gates, security, and cameras without people noticing? No one was getting in or out of Kaz’s house without over twenty people spotting.
Fuck all those who were in on this.
I fisted my now bloody hands.
I’d like to see you cut my head off. I’m no monkey, bitch.
Chapter 4
Kazimir
Last night, Pavel heard all the commotion, came up, and helped me take order. While he hadn’t given me an answer about working at my side, he’d slipped into the position naturally.
He’d called in Moscow’s finest and had them grab fingerprints.
Emily showered in another suite’s bathroom with Boris and Yuri on guard.
Pavel and I went to the main security room on the property. During the party, three men had been monitoring the camera. They reported nothing and had spotted no oddities the whole evening. Further questioning with a knife exposed that the video footage from the first hour of the party had disappeared.
The one who’d realized it had been afraid to confess it.
He’d died first.
The second security guy pulled up the camera for the bedroom. All the screen showed was a feed of an empty bedroom the whole evening. It was absurd. The cameras had caught nothing. Someone had clearly doctored the footage.
And so, the other two men died by my hands, before morning.
There could be no slip-ups when my mouse was involved.
The monkey heads were a deadly threat, one signed in fenya. It meant this person or group had a purpose. Murders with a goal were the most dangerous of all. Let it be over money. Let it be over greed. But a purpose could fuel the insane to do the most horrific things.
This had to end fast.
My mouse won’t let this go on for too long. Neither will I. This could get bloody, if I don’t end this now.
I didn’t sleep much last night.
We’d moved to another master bedroom and fell asleep in each other’s arms, both shaken from the threat hovering over us like a black cloud.
Early this morning, Pavel brought me the lab results from our bedroom. I’d anticipated a clue, something to point me in the right direction.
No fingerprints. No DNA from anyone but Emily, the monkeys, and me.
Therefore, the rest of the day went by with me in a horrible mood.
By that afternoon, I’d called the top men from the party, wondering if anyone would look guilty or show their hand. It didn’t matter. They were the highest; next would be Misha and me. Whoever had anything to do with the monkey heads would belong to either Misha, them, or me.
This has to get settled this week. No one leaves.
I scanned the room. Four men sat around the table in front of me—Zahkar, Nikolay, Pavel, and Abram.
Abram had been stirring in his seat the whole time. His pale complexion had tinted as much as his red hair. Granted, I’d been glaring at him since he walked in.
I frowned. “Why did you leave early last night?”
“I didn’t leave.” Abram adjusted his tie as if to loosen it. “I stepped out for a little bit and then came back.”
“When?”
“When the dinner came out.”
Pavel sat closest to me. He’d kept it professional today. Dark blue suit. Long hair pulled back in a ponytail. Pavel spoke, “I saw Abram re-enter. I even gave him a hard time for being gone—”
“Where did you go?” I continued to watch him.
“I had a personal s
ituation to deal with.”
“Nothing is personal today.”
Silence rode the space.
Did you threaten my mouse?
We were supposed to be talking about dividing the dead’s territory and any further action toward the Japanese and French, but there were other matters that had jumped to priority. Those damn monkey heads played in my mind.
Who would be stupid enough to do that?
The men stared back at me in silence.
They were smart enough to know I needed them now and positions were open. Their presence here was a test to see if they were ready to stand next to me. I would be giving them trials from here on.
But I couldn’t think of Bratva business anymore. Not when one of them wasn’t being brotherly.
The person who did this would be high level. Men like these. Cocky, psychotic, hateful men.
I gripped the table hard.
So you think Emily is a monkey? Come to me. Stand in front of me and say it.
Clearing his throat, Pavel sat on my left. “Should we begin, Kazimir?”
On my right, the chair lay empty.
The scowl never left my face. “Has anyone heard from Misha?”
Pavel responded, “He hasn’t been answering his phone.”
That’s who I need here. Misha. He could make sure the cameras and the men monitoring them are on point.
I clenched my jaw. “Get someone over to St. Petersburg to deliver my message personally.”
“We actually couldn’t find him.” Pavel cleared his throat. “He didn’t return to any of his condos after the ballet performance he was spotted at.”
“Did you check the ballerina’s condo?”
Pavel frowned. “I’m not sure if they did—”
“Do it.” I glared.
Pavel twisted his face in confusion and then straightened it.
Sorry, friend. You’re hired. Today’s your first day.
Without Misha, the whole meeting would be a waste of time. Now that Sasha, Luka, and many of my top men had been killed in our war, I needed my most trusted around.
Pavel had shown his worth last night. Perhaps he would continue to be loyal. His tests would start now. One would think that hanging Sasha’s dead body up on a flagpole would get me some peace. Instead, division had further expanded within the Bratva. It was time to unite and get back to business.
Dirty Hearts: The Lion and The Mouse (Book Three) Page 5
