Dirty Passions An Interracial Russian Mafia Romance (The Lion and The Mouse #5) - Kenya Wright Page 0,84

opened the door.

Max smirked. “Anything else, boss?”

“Yes. Smoke your joint out here, so you can chill. I know you’ve been waiting.”

Max saluted and pulled out his phone. “And what am I going to tell your lion, if he asks how do you know about the brands?”

“Say that I will let him know later.”

“Let’s hope that satisfies him.”

“It better.” I left the limo.

Boris got to my side. Four of my men surrounded and followed us forward. Kaz’s men stood at the entrance with their guns out.

I let out a long breath. It was a lot of security, but I focused on the fact that Kaz let me out of the penthouse at all. After the kidnapping in Paris and then the dead gorilla, I was sure he experienced serious gangster post-traumatic stress disorder. Who knew when he would heal from it?

While Max stayed behind, the rest of us entered the building.

Boris led the way. “Yuri and his mother lived in a two room apartment.”

I knew real estate lingo was different here and asked, “Is that like a one bedroom or a studio?”

“There’s one bedroom and then another space for an undivided kitchen and living room. Yuri slept on the couch, until he started working for you. Then, he stayed in your building on the lion’s property.”

Sadness hit me. “Do you think he liked working for me in that short time?”

“Definitely. He always came to see his mother on Sunday and gave her money. She was happy for him.”

Slowing down, Boris scanned the hallway. “Something is wrong?”

“Why?”

“The hallway is usually crowded with kids hanging around. It’s almost always packed.”

He was right. The place was empty.

We got to the end of the hall.

The door was already ajar, open just a few inches.

Come on. I don’t want any sadder surprises today. I’ve got enough on my plate.

“I should go in first.” Boris pulled out his gun and stepped inside.

“I’ll be right here.” I gritted my teeth, wanting to go in with him. But now I had another life inside me. From here on out, I would have to do things more carefully.

Another of my men went in with him. Blue and Lemon appeared and got to my side. Kaz’s guys remained parked in front of the buildings entrance and at the end of the hallway.

What is up?

Leaning forward, I studied the door. It had a crescent-shaped bite out of the side right above the doorknob. I stepped closer and examined it. A locked must’ve been there.

I looked on the ground and spotted the lock laying on the floor. Splinters of wood scattered the area near my feet.

Fuck.

I lowered and assessed the situation. It had been a decent lock, made of steel. But the steel had been stronger than the surrounding wood. Someone had used a wrecking bar to smash their way into the apartment. The door had been jerked hard, maybe twice, and the lock had held but the wood splintered. The door must’ve opened up after, and then the lock just fell.

They broke into the apartment. . .recently. . .This won’t be good. Could this be Abram? Or the Knights of Babylon? What the fuck is going on?

My heart raced.

Boris returned.

I rose from the ground.

A sad expression covered his face. “Someone killed Yuri’s mother. No one else is in there.”

“What the fuck?” I pushed past everyone and went inside. “What do you mean they killed his mother? No.”

The smell hit me first. Thick, cloying. It was a scent I’d encountered too many times before.

Blood and death. Goddamn it!

Inside the small apartment, it was dim and fragrant. There were wide dark boards on the floors. Ragged rugs here and there. Everything was a mess. Books sprawled all over the place. Shattered plates and glasses.

I turned to Blue and Lemon. “Do me a favor? Boris said kids were always playing in the hall. Check with the neighbors and find out if anyone has seen anything. If there are witnesses, tell them that I will protect them.”

Without a word, Blue and Lemon rushed away.

I returned my attention to the apartment.

Jesus Christ! If it is not one thing then it’s another. Dead gorilla. . .now a dead body. How do I stop all of this?

I scanned the place.

Like Boris’s childhood home, there were tons of rugs hanging on the wall. At Yuri’s place, the rugs were in a striking red and blue pattern and leaning to the side as if someone had yanked them up to look under them.

Weeks ago, I’d asked Boris why people hung rugs