Dirty Passions An Interracial Russian Mafia Romance (The Lion and The Mouse #5) - Kenya Wright Page 0,91

yelled from the side of the house. “There are more staff in the kitchen—gagged and tied up!”

We headed that way.

And then my phone rang. I checked the screen, hoping it was Emily calling to tell me that she was safe. The caller was unknown.

I answered. “Yes?”

Jean-Pierre’s voice came on the line. “I’m sorry about the mess. Have you had a chance to see what I’ve done to your bedroom?”

I stopped on the main level as David and Pavel rushed past me. “You’re a cocky bastard, Butcher.”

“Perhaps, that is why your mouse and I get along so well.” Humor rode his tone. “At this point, are you regretting all the times you’ve ignored me?”

“When you took her, you awakened a sleeping giant. You were barely on my radar.” I gripped the phone hard. “Now you’re the pinpoint of my target. How does it feel, Jean-Pierre, to have all my attention? Is your cock hard?”

“Oh, Kazimir.” He chuckled. “I love when the crackle in your voice grows loud with lightning and thunder. I would take out my umbrella, but no storm will come.”

“Have you had a chance to see what I’ve done to your bedroom?”

Motioning for a few men to follow, I headed upstairs. “Where are you? I would love to have you over for dinner.”

“Good. I’m excited about that. I haven’t had a good Pelmeni in a long time.”

Four of my men remained behind me.

“Aww. Pelmeni.” I got to the top of the stairs. “A dish from my childhood.”

“I was told the meat dumpling recipe comes from Siberia. You’re from there? Correct?”

“I am. You fucking stalker.” I headed to the bedroom and opened the door.

Jean-Pierre stood in the center of the room.

Twenty men pointed guns my way.

Slowly, I put the phone away. “Very. Cocky.”

Jean-Pierre gave his phone to his cousin. I recognized him as Giorgio—the one they called the Butler. Giorgio wiped the phone with a cloth and put it in his pocket.

My four men pointed their guns at him.

Outnumbered for now, I gestured for them to put the guns away. “This is smart, Jean-Pierre. But have you really thought this through?”

Surprisingly, he frowned. “I must admit that I haven’t thought this through at all.”

“Why not?”

“This was a quick plan, due to your men and you arriving back to the house earlier than we thought you would. You interrupted my interrogation. Therefore, I had to hide somewhere and come up with an idea fast.” Keeping the gun on me, Jean-Pierre unbuttoned the front of his jacket and sat down on the bed. “Anyway, this will do. There was no way I would have been able to get to Emily. It would have been impossible. You have her surrounded. My cousin Louis tells me you even have two helicopters following her around. Does she know how desperately you’re trying to keep her safe?”

I remained still. “What do you want for the information?”

“Getting into Russia was even more difficult than I thought it would be.” Jean-Pierre gestured to a few men on his right. They rushed over to my guys and took their guns and then returned to the back.

I leaned my head to the side. “How did you sneak into Moscow? Did you dress up like a girl?”

“I came over like a migrant. That was the only way to avoid your people.”

“Like a migrant?”

“Hundreds of migrants sneak over the Norwegian border into Nikel, Russia every week. A barbed wire fence stretches all along the Russian side because you’re barbarians.” He crossed his legs. “While the Norwegian side has no fence, there is a sophisticated system of watchtowers, cameras, personnel-radars, and border guard soldiers on patrol.”

“None that noticed you?”

“No. We wore a disguise.”

“I would love to hear more of that story.”

“We’ll have time, since you’re coming with me.”

I laughed. “You’re now going to kidnap me?”

“I’m taking you along so that I can have a more relaxing stay in Moscow and have a proper meeting with Emily.”

I put my hands in my pockets. “So, you’re going to take me somewhere, provide a meeting place for Emily, and then discuss what you want there?”

Jean-Pierre looked at Giorgio. “See. I told you he would understand.”

Giorgio didn’t appear convinced.

“This is interesting.” I studied him. “How will we leave here?”

“Gun to your head. The usual. None of your men want you killed. Even though they’re terrorizing your mouse, they don’t want to replace you. I gathered that from my conversations with the men in your cell.”

“And what else did they say?”

“We’ll talk more about that later.” Jean-Pierre rose