Dirty Hearts: The Lion and The Mouse (Book Three)

by Wright, Kenya

  I sighed. “And I get why you kept things from me. In fact, I’ll probably do it to you in the future.”

  He stopped and turned to me. “What do you mean?”

  I shrugged. “I won’t tell you things that may—”

  “No, mysh.”

  “This goes both ways, Kazimir. Don’t play with me.”

  He appeared displeased but nodded. “I’m learning.”

  “We’re learning.” I smiled. “But that’s old. This date is new. Let’s go hunting and forget about it all.”

  His face brightened like a kid. “Oh yes. Let’s go hunting. What are we going after? What will we kill?”

  “Well, I got us temporary hunting licenses for—”

  “Really?”

  “What?”

  “Hunting licenses?” He chuckled. “You’re so proper.”

  “I’m not just going to come to a foreign country and start shooting at animals without doing some research.”

  “Even though you came here with a fake passport.”

  “I’m ignoring you.” I led him to the men. “We have three choices—duck flighting and snipe hunting, we can go after some pheasant and woodcock, or...we can go balls to the wall and hunt boar.”

  “Balls to the wall?”

  “Yes.” I laughed.

  He chuckled too. “I like that. Let’s put our balls all over the wall.”

  I couldn’t stop laughing. “Not exactly how that works, but I get you. Boars it is.”

  All our worries and little issues disappeared.

  It had been a bitch to put the whole trip together. Thankfully, Pavel had helped. Kaz’s other guards had been scared to help. I’d sworn they would have told him. It was impossible to keep a secret from Kazimir, especially when his people were assisting.

  That’s why I need my own crew. Never again will he sneak me out of the country without my men.

  Before starting our hunt, we went into the castle for lunch. I’d rented it out for the day and evening, hoping we could cook our catch and maybe make love by some old 17th century elegant fire.

  Once lunch finished, I had to practically run to keep up with Kazimir. He’d shifted entirely into the zone. One would have thought we were getting trophies for our efforts.

  He loves it. Thank god.

  Pavel stared at the guns and appeared close to pouting. Kaz’s two main guards looked like sad little puppies, pretty close to whining to participate. I convinced Kazimir to let them.

  That was where the absurdity kicked in. It ended up being all of us in the massive forest behind the castle.

  For hours, we raced across the lush, massive land. Sunlight scattered through leaves. There was beauty within the deep forest. The scrub hills of Provence offered a wonderful setting for hound driven hunts. At least twenty Russians and I followed our French hunting party, along with ten dogs. The older dogs—Wilbur and Louis—led the way.

  Our guide, Jeffery knew so much. “Wild boar are all over France. Have you ever tasted one?”

  “No.” I held my rifle. “I’m pretty excited to try it.”

  “Boars have been ideal game since the beginning of mankind. You’ll love it.”

  “My Uncle Igor would talk of hunting boars,” Kazimir said with pride. “He claimed it made boys into men.”

  “That they do.” Jeffery nodded in agreement. “Boars are appreciated for their ability to hide and escape. Very clever. Men and dogs have trouble finding and catching them.”

  “But are they violent too?” I asked.

  “Boars can injure you, but their talent is in never getting caught.”

  “How big are they out here?” Kazimir asked.

  “Last year, I caught one that was 800lbs, but there have been times when I’ve only found ones at 200lbs.”

  “Shit. I didn’t realize they got so big.” I held my rifle closer. “I figured they would be little guys.”

  Jeffery took us down to the center of the forest where it was flatter. Every tree towered over us—oaks, beeches, aspens, pines, and chestnuts. The ground served as a bushy cover of young trees and brooms, brambles and ferns, all mingled with hollies.

  “A traditional boar hunt is called La Battue,” Jeffery explained. That name sounded pretty accurate for what we looked like—a crazy group with guns, beaters, and dogs.

  Twenty minutes later, we spotted several boars ahead. Adrenaline kicked in.

  The difficulty was taking a position without chasing all the boars away. Once the boars got sight of the dogs, they rushed off. The dogs tracked their scents and we attempted to keep up.

  The whole time, Kazimir roared with laughter. “I’m so glad we’re not dancing.”

  It took us three hours of running and tracking the boars through the forest. Everyone joined in. We all laughed, Pavel especially. He’d somehow tied his tresses and long braids. Kaz’s men even lightened up with me, being less traditional and treating me like one of the guys. A few gave me hard pats as I raced against them.

  We returned to the castle with four massive boars weighing 400lbs each. Kazimir caught the first one and used his dagger instead of his rifle. After that, he’d declared using the rifle would be cheating.

  His men took up the challenge while our guides agreed knives would be manlier. I thought they thought we were crazy, but I joined in.

  I caught the second boar. I’d done enough research and watched several videos before the date. There was no way I was walking out of that forest without catching something. Kazimir had tried to step in and help, but I’d waved him away. It had almost cost me a leg. Somehow, I got out of the boar’s path as he charged away from the dogs and got in a slice. Jeffery and Pavel got the other two.

  That night, we feasted in the castle. Everything went perfectly, better than I could’ve expected.

  My phone rang as the castle’s staff brought out more wine and dessert.

  Kazimir eyed it.

  I rose and whispered to him, “I’ll be right back.”

  Kazimir gestured for his man to walk out.

  “I’ve got it.” I waved them away and hurried out of the room. “What’s up, Boris?”

  “The phones work.” He sounded shocked.

  “I told you they would.”

  “And Zahkar invited Yuri and me into the investigation.”

  You’re trying, Kazimir. Thanks.

  “Any new info?” I asked.

  “Zahkar thinks it’s at least five people involved. The monkeys and chimpanzee were taken out of the zoo.”

  “Any footage of them being stolen?”

  “No.”

  Of course not. These men are smart, but not smart enough to not fuck with me.

  “There was a maid that was on staff for your room both times,” Boris continued. “She’s gone missing.”

  “Send Lemon for the maid. I want you to stay close to Zahkar. Whatever he knows, you need to know.”

  It was time to see what my three stars could do.

  Damn. I wish Maxwell was there. He needs to hurry up with Misha.

  Boris had the monkey situation. Hopefully, he would find Mr. Racist soon. Lemon could try her hand with finding the maid. But now, Blue needed something to do. She was a whiz with electronics. I’d figured she would be my top research and computer security person.

  There was something else nagging at me besides the monkey situation.

  “Do me a favor, Boris.”

  “Whatever you want, boss.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Have Blue look up the Corsican.”

  “Who?”

  “French mafia. The main guy’s named Jean-Pierre. They call him the Butcher. He has three cousins. I want their names and any other information on them.”

  “Oh wait. The Butcher? That name I have heard of.”

  “Well, get Blue to get as much info to me as possible on him and anyone he rocks with. Have her call me when she has it.”

  “Okay. I’ve got it.”

  “And call me when there’s something new
.”

  “I will.”

  “Good. Talk to you later.” I hung up and turned around.

  Kazimir leaned against the wall behind me. “How’s your investigations going, detective?”

  I put my phone up. “Your men are working with mine.”

  He leaned his head to the side. “And your inquiry on the Butcher?”

  “I’m just wondering about your enemy.”

  Kazimir fake pouted. “Truthfully, I’m feeling like you’re violating my privacy.”

  I smirked. “I’m protecting you.”

  “Oh well. We’ll talk more about that later.”

  “Will we?”

  “Definitely. But Boris confirmed the truth?”

  “And what’s that, Kaz?”

  He left the wall and prowled to me. “That I’m being a good boy.”

  “You are.”

  “I deserve a treat.”

  “Do you?”

  He closed the distance. “I do.”

  We never returned to the castle’s dining room. Instead, he carried me up to our massive room on the second floor. There, I didn’t have to deal with monkey heads, Corsican, or any other threat. There, I was devoured and filled to my soul. There, he showed me how much he loved me even more.

  The next hours were passionate, toe-curling, can’t-remember-my-own-name kind of lovemaking. Kazimir made me explode so many times—on my back, on my knees, on my side, and over him. Kazimir loved me hard, soft, and everything in-between. It was better than anything I could’ve ever imagined.

  When we finally went to sleep, I dreamed of babies—many of them. Little mixtures of us.

  Chapter 15

  Kazimir

  Days passed in Paris. Besides a few Corsican men in vans here and there, no problems came.

  Back in Moscow, Zahkar and Boris were busy on the monkey head mystery. There was still no word from Maxwell or Misha. I ignored it and chose to focus on my mouse.

  Emily and I spent relaxing days together. Peace rested between us. We had not talked about her going to a doctor yet. I knew the conversation would rise soon.

  Surely, she’s missed her period by now. She must be pregnant.

  It became an obsession. When she slept, I held her stomach and knew.

  Today, I planned to broach the topic.

  We’d separated.

  She’d gone to the Satin Butterfly’s spa.

  I’d chosen a Russian bathhouse I used to frequent in my old days partying in Paris. For as long as I’d chosen this life, I’d celebrated in this country. It made sense that I would bring Emily here, so soon after our victory from Sasha and her brother, Daryl.

  We’ve lost so many. It’s time for us to relax.

  In the Russian bathhouse, I leaned back on the wooden bench. A towel hung over my head. Another wrapped around my waist. Steam rose all around. Pavel and three of my other men stood by the walls. They wore towels and held no guns. There was no need. I’d watched Pavel take down a bear with his two hands after drinking a whole bottle of vodka. If someone came in as a threat, they wouldn’t make it out alive.

  Pavel grumbled, “This is going to ruin my hair.”

  “You better be joking.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Why aren’t you sitting?”

  “I’m on guard.”

  “You should rest your leg.”

  “It’s fine. Misha is a bad shot.”

  Pavel didn’t have to prove anything, but his failure to bring Misha possibly messed with his ego.

  “Fine. Stand.” I smirked. “And when we get back to the hotel, I’ll make sure your stylists are sent for.”

  Pavel smiled for the first time that day.

  I may never end this vacation.

  The days had been so harmonious, I didn’t think any problem would calm.

  All know now. Let the lion rest.

  Exhaling, I scanned the space. Steam rose and thickened the air. The exterior of the bathhouse looked like an old French inn, nothing like the bathhouses I’d seen in my past. Ancient stones outlined a huge black doorway. This one had dry saunas, wet saunas, dunking pools, and an in-house restaurant. The host had hinted at a few bathhouse hookers and tried to hand me a menu for some of the masseuses with alternative forms of release.

  I didn’t need another woman’s hands on my cock. That length belonged to my mouse now.

  The place was so frequented by Russians, many thought of it as a Russian bathhouse. Truthfully, a Parisienne with Algerian roots owned the place.

  I enjoyed it regardless. A bathhouse was proof that there was an art to living. A ritual dedicated to the harmony and beauty of the body. One needed these moments to sit back in steam and listen to nothing but silence.

  Still, even though the owner had different roots, he maintained the traditional Russian banya. It was a sauna with a difference. The steam was wetter and easier to deal with. More hydrating. More detoxifying.

  After the steam session, a honey-and-sea-salt scrub would follow. Emily had ordered that, wanting me delicious smelling. From that suggestion, all I could think about was having my cock in her mouth.

  Covering my head and upper face a little with a towel, I closed my eyes and sank into the peaceful darkness.

  Yes. I needed this.

  Once the scrub was done, I would get a light thwacking with oak leaves and then dive into an icy pool to boost circulation.

  We needed this trip.

  Things would change once we confirmed her pregnancy. Even more, the brotherhood would possibly be shattered after this monkey head person was identified. Secretly, I hoped the person was outside the Bratva. But, due to his ability to go in and out of my house, I knew it was someone close.

  Is there no loyalty anymore? Forget about it. Focus on the darkness. The soothing silence.

  Something beeped off in the distance, taking me away from my thoughts.

  I kept my eyes closed as Pavel whispered into his phone.

  Who could be calling now?

  I attempted to get back to my meditative state, but Pavel cleared his throat and spoke up. “The French are outside the door.”

  Are you kidding me? Just a week of peace. Maybe two days with no one bothering me.

  “What would you like us to do?” Pavel asked.

  “The French are outside. Did the Butcher bless us with his presence?”

  “Yes. It’s him outside with his cousins.”

  He’s brought the whole girl band for the show. Awesome. Well, I’m not auditioning today. I’m on vacation.

  “Don’t let them in.” I relaxed my shoulders. Upon the news, tension had built in them. I worked on falling back into peaceful comfort.

  You have men follow my mouse and me around for days and say nothing. Then, you barge in on my steaming? No.

  A minute passed.

  I shifted back into peaceful silence.

  A gun went off outside.

  Goddamn it!

  I fisted my hands.

  Pavel’s phone beeped and then he spoke again. “Jean-Pierre shot Dmitry in the leg.”

  My voice came out hoarser than I’d wanted. “Let him in.”

  You shoot my men? I don’t know what you want, but you won’t get it. Instead, you’ll die before the end of the week.

  If I just let anybody go around barging in on me and shooting my men, I would have an assault of assholes doing the same. In this world, it was all about giving examples to the world.

  “Are you sure, Kazimir?”

  “Yes. I want to know more about this Jean-Pierre. It’s time to kill him. He’s too loud, too soft to be coming around me.” I opened my eyes and could only see a little under the towel.

  Pavel walked over to the door and opened it.

  Only the girl’s group entered—Jean-Pierre and his three cousins—the new fame of French’s criminal world. Perfumed pansies in all their glory, filling the steam room with exotic perfume and feminine softness.

  They should’ve gone into a nicer occ
upation. Like modeling or anything else where they can sit and primp about, tussling their hair and trying on different dresses with glee.

  This world was mine, and it was a rough one. The more Jean-Pierre came around, the more I considered roughing up his skin.

  They walked in slowly. Designer suits. Possibly Brioni. Jean-Pierre in baby blue. Perfectly tailored. The rest wore gray. Polished shoes. Diamond cufflinks and watches. All dressed to impress, but not for a steaming.

  Spying them, I kept my towel half covering my face.

  Jean-Pierre scanned the room, surely counting and assessing my men.

  Don’t even think about trying anything in here, Butcher. You wouldn’t make it out alive.

  The legend of him was rising in the world. Surely, he didn’t want people to start talking about how the lion slapped him around in a steam room.

  Now what, idiot?

  At first, they didn’t speak at all.

  He’s not worthy to disrupt me.

  I closed my eyes and returned to my peace.

  Did you just come to look at a god? There. Take a picture and leave.

  Silence lasted for a few more seconds, and then I heard clothes unraveling.

  Are we serious? They’re getting naked?

  I opened one eye and caught Jean-Pierre’s cousin taking off his jacket and slinging it on the floor.

  That’s the cousin my men call The Funny One.

  Another cousin picked it up.

  I squinted.

  What’s that one’s name? Now, I remember. What was it? The Butler. That’s right. He’s a clean freak.

  The Butler held The Funny One’s jacket in pure disgust. All the men appeared to be embarrassed.

  They’re not even ready to deal with me.

  Jean-Pierre glared at The Funny One in horror as he took off his shirt and then went for his pants.

  Why is he getting naked? And this one is still not funny to me.

  I shut my eyes.

  Hushed voices ensued.

  Jean-Pierre’s little feminine voice filled the air. “Excuse me?”

  “It’s hot in here,” The Funny One whispered back.

  “Keep them on.”

  The supposed funny one muttered, “Fuck that.”

  I heard something drop to the floor. I opened my eyes. The Funny One’s pants lay on the floor. He took off his boxer briefs. Now naked, The Funny One walked over to the wooden bench across from me and sat down.