Several police cars flashed their lights and led the way.
The Butcher had complete control of Paris this morning. Kazimir had underestimated this man. He had more power than Blue had reported in the file.
How am I going to get away from them?
Meanwhile, Jean-Pierre sat on my right. Rafael was across me with other men. The whole time, Rafael watched me with anger in his eyes.
I turned back to Jean-Pierre—the Butcher. On my side, he tapped the bud in his ear. “Yes. I’m fine.”
He must still be talking to Louis.
I was glad I’d read Blue’s report on them. It had been the best timing of my life. The more information I knew about them, the more I could find a way to escape.
Jean-Pierre pressed the bud in his ear. “Yeah. We’re a block away in the limo, heading to Shalimar’s.”
Who’s Shalimar?
Rafael spoke up, “Tell him the restaurant, not the woman.”
Jean-Pierre scrunched his face in confusion. “What? We’re going to the woman not the restaurant.”
The restaurant or the woman? What the fuck are they talking about?
Rafael frowned. “Giorgio wants steak-frites—”
“Eden is gone.” Jean-Pierre glared. “I don’t give a fuck what Giorgio wants—”
“When’s the last time you ate?” Rafael asked.
Jean-Pierre shook his head. “I’m not hungry—”
“I’m overriding you. Let’s get some food and regroup.”
“We don’t need to regroup.”
Rage blazed in Rafael’s eyes as his voice rose. “We do, because we fucking kidnapped the Lion’s chick!”
I gulped in fear.
Just when I thought Jean-Pierre and Rafael were going to fight in the limo, he touched the earbud and calmly said, “Louis, we’ll meet at the restaurant. Giorgio’s hungry and Rafael wants to...regroup.” I didn’t know what Louis’s response was, but Jean-Pierre rolled his eyes. “I figured Kazimir would bring all his people out here.”
Kaz is getting the Bratva in Paris? Good. Protect yourself. I’ll sneak away.
“No,” Jean-Pierre said. “Don’t kill his men. They could help find Eden. Do you have an eye on Kazimir?”
I turned his way.
Where is he?
Jean-Pierre frowned. “I thought we killed the guards. Fine.”
The conversation must’ve ended.
Jean-Pierre took the ear bud out of his ear and turned toward the window.
The sun hovered over Paris.
What is he thinking now?
I twisted the sheet in my lap, trying to calm myself.
Jean-Pierre took out his phone and tossed it to me. “Call your brother.”
Yes. Thank God.
I picked up the phone with shaking hands, turned it on, dialed, and waited.
Maxwell, you better answer! Please. I need you.
When Maxwell picked up, I let out the longest breath in my life.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Loud music sounded on the other line. I had no idea where he was. It had to have been a party. Feminine giggling came next.
“Shell-o?” Maxwell stuttered. From the word and tone, I knew he was drunk.
Shit.
“What does my Em need?” Maxwell chuckled. “Are you missing daddy?”
Jesus Christ. How much did you drink?
“Maxwell, are you with Misha?” I asked.
“Hells yeah!” Maxwell yelled over the music. “I’m in Paris. I heard you were here too. Misha is scared. I told him it’ll be fine.”
What was he doing here?
Maxwell continued. “We’re in the motherfucker strip club, making it rain. Well, they don’t really make it rain here.”
“What? Strip club?”
“We’re giving them cases of money. Dollars. Naw. What we giving them? Yeah. Yeah. We franc’ed up. Two-hundred-kay. Something light on these chicks. Heard you were here, so—”
“Go outside.”
“What? Come on.” Maxwell laughed. “Go outside? Away from the naked women? Is it an emergency?”
“Yes!”
Maxwell’s voice lost its humor. “Are you serious?”
“I’m serious!” I stared back at the French in the car.
“Okay.” Maxwell’s voice turned serious. “Give me a minute.”
Music blasted on the other line.
My heart boomed with the song’s rapid beat.
Jean-Pierre and Rafael watched me the entire time. I hoped they wouldn’t take the phone from me.
Hurry, Maxwell.
Rafael leaned Jean-Pierre’s way. “What if she’s calling someone to have us tracked?”
Jean-Pierre glared at me. “It doesn’t matter if Kazimir knows where she is or not. He won’t get her back until I say so.”
My bottom lip quivered.
On the other end of the phone, the music left which told me Maxwell had, in fact, gone outside the strip club.
“Em? What’s up? Can you hear me?”
“Yes. I can hear you now.”
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“No.”
“Shit. I’ve got you.”
“Good.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Listen. The Corsican kidnapped me—”
“Get to Eden!” Jean-Pierre growled.
My hand shook. “I…I need you to get Misha to locate Eden. His people might’ve kidnapped her.”
“Oh wait. I know what you’re talking about. She’s not kidnapped anymore.”
Confusion hit me. “What?”
“You’re talking about Ava’s grandma, right?”
“No.” I shook my head, although he couldn’t see me. “She’s not somebody’s grandmother.”
“She’s Ava’s grandma. We’re talking about a kidnapping right?”
Goddamn it.
“Maxwell, it’s not someone’s grandmother, okay?”
“Listen. Just check with those dudes, man.” Drunk Maxwell was the most annoying person to deal with. “Just ask them. We can finish this really quick.”
“I’ll ask.” I looked at Jean-Pierre. “Is Eden the name of Ava’s grandmother?”
Jean-Pierre growled. “Who the hell is Ava? Eden is no one’s grandmother.”
“I’m sorry. He’s drunk.” I went back to the phone. “It’s not Ava’s grandmother. We’re talking about Eden.”
Maxwell sounded out of it. “Wait. So then...the person is named Eden?”
“Yes. Yes.”
“Wait, so Misha’s dumbass done got someone else kidnapped too?”
“I guess.”
“Wait.” Maxwell laughed. “I can’t right now. I mean basically you’re saying that—”
“Misha kidnapped someone else.” My patience left me. “Did you happen to hear the part about the Corsican kidnapping me?!”
“Oh shit! And you’re kidnapped too? So it’s like three women now?”
I don’t even know what you’re talking about.
I sighed. “Yes.”
“Fuck. I’m sobering up, Em. What’s the chick’s name again?”
“Eden!”
“Do they have a picture? I can’t keep up with everyone getting kidnapped.”
I turned back to Jean-Pierre. “Maxwell needs a picture.”
“I’ll send one.” Jean-Pierre took the phone and spoke into it. “Make sure Misha contacts me. And hurry up, Maxwell.”
Damn it. I wasn’t done talking to him.
Jean-Pierre hung up the phone and studied me. “Why is your brother working for Misha?”
“He’s not working for Misha,” I said. “He’s only hanging out in St. Petersburg.”
Rafael tilted his head to the side. “Are they lovers?”
“What?” I quirked my eyebrows. “No.”
“How did your brother and you get involved with Kazimir?”
Keep as much information to myself. Answer, but don’t say too much.
I swallowed. “It was due to my other brother, Daryl.”
Rafael leaned back in his seat. “Is Daryl the Mouse?”
I see you don’t know shit. You sure you should’ve done this?
I tapped my leg. “No.”
“Where is your brother Daryl?” Jean-Pierre asked.
“He’s dead.”
Jean-Pierre raised his eyebrows. “Who killed him?”
“Misha.”
Rafael chimed in. “You’re okay with that?”
“Life happens.”
It was all just enough to seem like I was obeying them. They didn’t need to know too much. Information was always important.
Jean-Pierre sighed. “Is Maxwell the Mouse?”
I widened my eyes. “No.”
“Who is it?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s important.”
Jean-Pierre’s voice held an edge. “I say what is important.”
I changed the topic. “Why did Misha’s men take Eden?”
“That’s the answer I would like to know.”
I shook my head again. “How did they get her?”
“Tracked her.”
“With what?”
Jean-Pierre’s phone rang. He answered but didn’t say hello. “Do you have Eden’s location?”
Is that Maxwell?
Jean-Pierre frowned. “Call me when you have a location.”
Jean-Pierre hung up.
Yes. That was Maxwell. Thank God. Now, call Kazimir, Maxwell. Get together. We can end this soon.
Silence filled the limo.
“Nothing will be the same after this.” Rafael let out a long breath and closed his eyes. “Not France or Russia.”
You’re damn right about that.
What would happen to us all? Could any of this be fixed? And most important, would I ever see Kazimir again?
Epilogue
Kazimir
With just a jacket on and nothing else, I rode in the helicopter, gazing out at the city below.
Where are you, mysh? Please...be careful. I’m coming. Don’t try anything.
French blood dried on my skin. I expected to be covered in more by this evening.
The helicopter landed right in front of Pavel and Emily’s men. They’d been loading into vans. We’d gotten there right on time.
Smart, they got alert, stopped filling the vans, and turned in the direction of the helicopter. A few even had their guns out.
I got out as soon as the damn thing hit the ground.
Surely, Emily’s men hadn’t expected the lion to land right before them in a helicopter, wielding a rocket launcher, and barking out orders with his cock out.
But that was what occurred.
The Butcher had kidnapped Emily—my mouse. My everything. The mother of my child,. Whether she was pregnant or not, she would be. I had to get her back. I had to make sure she was safe.
Barefoot, I stomped forward and stopped in front of Pavel.
His mouth hung open. “What the hell, Kazimir?”
I handed him the rocket launcher. “They took Emily. Jean-Pierre and his cousins.”
Pavel switched from shocked to all-business. “We’ll wake up everyone in Paris and start the search—”
“First, get someone in St. Petersburg to take Misha a phone, and then put me on the line. I don’t give a damn if he’s deep inside that ballerina’s pussy. They can shoot him if they have to. They can shoot her too.”
Pavel widened his eyes. “All right. What else?”
“Get Misha on the phone in less than five minutes. No more of his bullshit!” I roared and scanned my mouse’s hooligans. “Everybody needs to be out in these streets today, fucking it up and looking for her! Destroy this fucking city if you have to. Get some pictures of her. Show them to everyone. Any friends of the brotherhood in Paris and France, make them aware. Call them!”
“They brought more guns.” Pavel gestured to Emily’s second.
Boris stepped forward. “We’ll find her.”
A short woman with blue hair came forward. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she held a laptop in her hand, doing her best to not gaze down at my cock. “I could stay by your side. Anything you need hacked into, I got it. I’m good with tracking. If they call you, I may be able to lock their location in.”
“Let’s go.” I marched off.
She widened her eyes but followed.
Pavel called back to me. “Where are you going?”
“I’m showering on the plane. Get Misha on the phone in five minutes. I’ll be back.”
My plane had already been parked in the private wing of the airport. There, I rushed on, showered, and dressed. No suit for today. Army boots. Black pants and shirt. My uniform of the old days when I would go out into the night and knock motherfuckers’ heads off.
Today would be a bloody day.
My hair clung, wet, to my head.
I’d barely dried it off, not wanting to waste any more time.
The small woman with the blue hair sat in the living room. For some reason, I needed her near. I could’ve gotten many to hack, but this was Emily’s pet and having her around comforted me.
She stopped typing in the keyboard and looked up. “I have some locations of Jean-Pierre’s warehouses. Emily asked me to get the address for the biggest ones.”
“She did? What was she going to do?”
Her bottom lip quivered. “I don’t know.”
“Good job. Keep the addresses. We’ll blow them up.” I walked off. “Come on and keep up.”
She unhooked the cord and grabbed the laptop without turning it off.
I headed away.
She scurried behind me.
We left the plane.
Spotting Pavel, I stormed forward.
“Maxwell is in Paris. Here he is.” Pavel held a phone out as he ran to me.
I took it from him.
Pavel pointed forward. “I’ve got a jeep for us over here.”
I placed the phone to my here and yelled into it. “Get the devil’s location right fucking now!”
Misha’s voice remained calm. “Pavel explained everything to me. My people are on it now—”
“Your people?” I marched toward the black jeep. “Your fucking people are on it? You need to be on it!”
On the other side of the line, Misha spoke up. “They contacted Maxwell. Emily talked to him.”
I stopped in front of the jeep. “When were you going to tell me this?”
Misha cleared his throat. “I called your phone.”
“You fucked up. Celina stole my babies? My fucking nukes! No fucking phone call—”
“I thought I had it under control.”
“Emily’s gone!”
Silence hit the line.
“Instead of you handling the situation yourself or calling me, you enlist some fucking psychos to track the nukes?” My chest rose and fell.
Misha sighed. “Kazimir...I’m sorry. You know I...I would never want something like this to happen to you...I understand...my mother...”
My eyes burned. I blinked and put my back to Pavel. My throat tightened. I couldn’t think. I didn’t want to think, but I had to move fast. Jean-Pierre was an idiot. Had a short fuse. Someone had taken his woman, and he thought it was me. Now, I would have to deal with the situation while making sure Emily stayed alive.
Misha spoke again, “Kazimir, I’ll do anything. I’m on it.”
“You will.” I gripped the phone. “Because if something happens to Emily, your ballerina will never be able to dance again.”
I hung up the phone and got in the jeep.
Pavel climbed in after me. “Where do you want to go?”
“Who’s the top brother here?”
“His name is David. They call him King David. He’s in Little Russia.”
It was a small neighborhood in the southwest of Paris.
“Then let’s wake up King David. I’ll need all his men.”
“I figured you would want to go his way. I’m on it.” Pavel gave the order to our driver, and we sped off.
The whole time, I gazed out the window as we headed to Little Russia.
Mysh...I’m coming for you. I swear.
About the Author
http://kenyawrightbooks.com/
Kenya Wright wrote her first novel during her third year at UM Law school. She dropped out a month after the release and never looked back. Words are power, and Kenya wants to be the greatest wizard that ever lived.
“It's an audacity to inspire and teach the healing of love through arousal. It's this crazy idea that love can not only help a reader escape, but the story can also teach the person about being human, while making them laugh, cry, and hot for more sex.”
Also by Kenya Wright
The Lion and The Mouse
Dirty Kisses - Book One
Dirty Love - Book Two
The Butcher and the Violinist
Rhapsody - Book One
Sonata - Book Two
The Masque of Red Death
The Masque of Red Death: An African-American Murder Mystery
More from Kenya
Gio: An Erotic Romance
Heartbreak Hotel: An Erotic Romance
I Want You: An Erotic Short
No Ordinary Love: An Interracial Erotic Romance
Filthy Lies: An Interracial Erotic Romance
Power: Interracial Gangster Romance with Twists
When the Smoke Clears
Hungry
Dirty Hearts: The Lion and The Mouse (Book Three) Page 24
