Dirty Passions An Interracial Russian Mafia Romance (The Lion and The Mouse #5) - Kenya Wright Page 0,79

is in the evening.”

I nodded. “Do they need more money?”

“I give them everything that I get, but I’ll talk to my mother. She won’t ask for more from either of us. She’s happy to do this much. And as I’ve said before, in Kapotnya we all know how to make do around here.”

“Well, don’t go roasting cats in trash cans. Let me know what you need. I’m happy to give more.” I took in all the faces waiting in line. Many were young women with children. Most of the men were older. Some appeared in their late seventies. A few sat in wheelchairs or leaned on crutches.

Russia became freezing cold during the winter. Already, a chilly breeze ended this recent afternoon’s warmth. I hoped to be able to bring more people out of the cold and inside to the buildings’ warmth.

“My mother’s in the kitchen. She wanted to talk to you.” Boris took us past the long line of hungry people. Many were dirty and unshaven. Some had bruises and black eyes.

What happened to them?

Boris grabbed my attention. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took pictures of the bedroom last night and sent them to her.”

I stopped. “The bedroom? You mean the gorilla?”

“Yes. And the sign that was smeared in blood on the wall. I remembered it from one of my mother’s books, but I couldn’t think of which one or what it was about.”

I widened my eyes. “She knows where they symbol comes from?”

“Yes. She said she would bring the book to me, but I had to keep it secret and not tell anyone but you.”

Max quirked his brows. “We’re talking about the star with the eye in the center?”

“Yes.” Boris walked off.

I followed with a new purpose in my step. I couldn’t keep the chaos from last night out of my mind. Kaz had told me to stay away from any investigating into the cult, but that didn’t mean I had to ignore any information that came my way.

I’m just checking out information, not searching or following these supposed knights around.

We walked through a small cafeteria. People crowded the space, shoveling fried eggs mixed with porridge in their mouths. Others sipped on what I assumed was black tea.

Before coming to the country, I figured Russians were coffee drinkers. They were so rough and burly. I guessed all took a big cup of black muck in the mornings with no sugar or cream. However, Russia was traditionally a tea drinking country. I’d found that most Russians even drank their hot tea with sugar and lemon. Kaz did too, but he also liked a little milk added with his.

We arrived in the kitchen. There, Boris’s mother, Fatuma stirred a large pot of porridge.

Although slim and short, Fatuma’s presence dominated any space that she entered. She had dark brown skin and these gorgeous big brown eyes. Her hair was cut into a small afro.

Today, she wore a black sleeve shirt with jeans.

This was my third time seeing Fatuma. The first time, Boris had to grab clothes to move into my building on Kaz’s property. I rode in the limo with him, just to get a feel of where he was from. The plan had been to stay in the vehicle as he gathered his things. Fatuma wasn’t having it. She dragged me out, made me sit down at her table, sip tea, and eat dinner with them both. That evening, she cooked a traditional dish from her country—Liberia. Located on the west coast of Africa.

She explained that the dish was called Fufu. She’d made it from rice and cassava. The cassava had been hard for her to get around Moscow, but Boris had told her that I would be coming. Fatuma had spent her last bit of money for me, so I made sure to eat it all up and tell her how much I appreciated the meal.

Along with the Fufu, she served a spicy beef soup. As we ate, she told me about her journey to Russia. During the Cold War, the Soviet Union offered many Caribbean and African men and women free university education. It was a time when the Soviet state was about internationalism and support for anti-colonial movements. Attitudes towards race had been more neutral.

These smart Caribbean and African students were lured in large numbers by offers of a free education, particularly those from newly independent nations that were building communism. Thousands of them pursued degrees in the Soviet Union, in fields such as international law