Dirty Hearts: Interracial Russian Mafia Romance - Page 26

Yuri remained a mystery. Low cut. Chocolate skin. Massive chest and arms but chicken legs. He could probably run, but it wouldn’t be hard to knock him down. Didn’t matter because he had skills with a gun.

However, Yuri was shady at times. He disappeared a lot. He rubbed his nose too much. I wondered if he had a habit—cocaine or something worse. Powder was expensive for someone living on the streets.

I’ll have Maxwell watch him when he gets back.

There were two females who also stood out—Lemon and Blue.

I’d met Blue when we looked for weapons in Kapotnya. She’d been posted in Boris’s cousins’ basement—skin the color of dark honey, no make-up, high cheekbones. Gorgeous. Spectacular dark eyes with long lashes.

I figured her nickname dealt with her hair. Sky blue braids hung in the center of her head like a long mohawk. Her hair had been shaved on both sides.

When we came to buy more weapons, Blue had broken down each weapon with a skill that reminded me of Xavier. And like him, her second hobby was hacking and security attacks. I grabbed her instantly, offered her money, and told her to come to the property the next day.

Boris had appeared uncomfortable.

Lemon was the other woman I was slowly thinking I could trust, and the only full-blooded white girl on the crew. Again, these were all gut feelings. My brain had no real assessments yet, but my gut said these were my inner circle. The ones I could take on my journey in Russia.

Lemon was my nickname for her. Her real name was Lemonotsky, but I’d asked politely if I could call her Lemon. She’d smiled and gave me a wink of approval.

Although the name was ripe and sweet, Lemon was not. She had cold, pale skin. A bald head. She towered over most of my men at 6’7. Her birth home was Siberia. Lemon looked like she’d learned to hold a gun since she was three and had probably stabbed someone at four, maybe even choked a man to death at seven. With her bare hands. Possibly buried the body after.

Maxwell will love Lemon. She’s got character.

I didn’t know her age, but her whole head of hair was a silvery gray. I wondered if it was real or if she’d dyed it. Something had happened to her right eye. A yellow leather eye patch covered it.

Lemon was a bad bitch who made me nervous at times. She’d be hard to knock down. If her and I had to go at it, I didn’t know who would make it out alive. I think that was why I liked her. She was a mountain of a woman, and I was glad to have her on my side.

She’d been in the back of a kitchen in some dusty restaurant in the downtown Moscow as the place’s dishwasher. Boris had brought me to her. Apparently, many hadn’t taken her seriously but his crew. From time to time, she helped them do odd jobs.

New men or new strangers. I need them to help me with this monkey guy, but can I trust them? Will they have my back?

That was where Kazimir’s logic poked at me the most. He trusted none of the new men and women around me. He didn’t care about our bond or strife. They were strangers regardless of their background and color. And, because of that, he wanted me to have minimal contact with them.

I can’t believe Kazimir just walked into my office and hit Anton. I’ll have to stop that. But how?

In the shower, I ran my fingers through my wet hair.

Maybe…Kaz is right. I’m moving too fast, surrounding myself around all these people. But some of these finds are good. Right?

I thought of how easily Kazimir had manhandled Anton when it had taken all my energy to fight the big guy. Kazimir had fought with a fluid ease. Stripped to the waist, his muscles and skin gleamed in the basement’s light. I didn’t like the way all my newly hired women drooled over him. Even Lemon practically had her tongue out.

He has to stop hitting my men and getting half-naked in front of my women.

I shut off the shower, ready to face Kazimir. I’d been mad earlier. How dare he march into my office and stop the fight? How dare he start his own? And then all his yelling.

I was showing them what I’m capable of. I was letting them know the lion is with me because I can kick a motherfucker’s ass. Not just because the pussy is awesome.

I grinned.

And it is awesome.

Feeling better, I laughed at myself and stepped out of the shower.

To my shock, Kazimir was standing by the sink, leaning against it. He only wore gray boxer briefs. Steam swirled around his muscular legs. I followed the path up to his thighs and noticed his erection pushing against his briefs.

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