A Very Bad Man – Russian Mafia Fairytale Read Online Joanna Blake

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love, Virgin Tags Authors:
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 76915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
<<<<567891727>84
Advertisement


“This is between us. You will get the care she wants you to get. Text me the details. I will arrange the travel for you.”

He nodded, looking bewildered as I gave him my private phone number.

“I thank you, son,” he said and I stiffened. I wanted to run from the kindness, it felt so foreign to me. But I shook his hand instead.

“Tell her to pack. I will send a car in the morning. She will stay with us, and the shop will be minded. Think no more about it.”

“I will.”

“Until we meet again,” I said, casting a glance back to see if the lovely Mishka was visible. Alas, she was not. I turned and left the shop to join my brothers waiting in the limo outside.

Chapter 4

Mishka

Istared down at my scuffed brown leather shoes, my bag resting beside my feet. These shoes had taken me from early morning chores in the shop, to school, to my music lessons, and home again for many, many years. The bag had rarely been used. It was dark green nylon with tan straps and piping. Just old enough to be considered slightly cool, with strong dad vibes. It gave me a small bit of comfort that it had actually belonged to my mama, though she had rarely travelled either.

Papa appeared beside me with my violin case. He had shown me a huge sum of paper folding money that magically appeared the night before. Supposedly it had come from a jar in the back of the pantry. Something he had stashed away long ago.

I did not believe that for a second.

One of the Aslanov brothers had clearly given him the cash. But why? For the shop? The building had some value, but I doubted the business itself was worth anything, even with the magazines and newspapers we had begun to sell in recent years. Free wi-fi with your espresso! Papa had attempted to join modern times, but it was not easy for him, or in this country, unless you were mega rich.

Speaking of mega rich… a long black stretch limo appeared. And not just any limo. I stared at the shiny silver figure of a jumping cat on the hood. Did Jaguar even make limousines? It was more beautiful than any car I had ever seen. It looked las if it had rolled right out of a Hollywood movie.

Off the screen and onto the ordinary street I had spent my entire life on.

Why on earth would they send a limo for a maid? I wasn’t even truly a maid. I was an indentured servant. A slave. I would not be paid. I was working off a debt, not the other way around.

Not that I would dare to complain. The Aslanov brothers were supposed to be devils. But in this case, they had appeared like angels from God.

They had stepped in, and instead of killing my father, as they were known to do for the slightest debt or infraction, they had given us something even more precious than life. They had given us time.

They had given us hope.

It was too much for my brain to fathom after only a small shot of espresso. I was too nervous to drink more than that, even though I had barely slept the night before. I did not need to start shaking on top of my nerves and worry for my father. I was doing my best not to worry about myself. But I was frightened. I was about to enter the stronghold of the most notorious crime family in Russia, if not the world.

To be honest, my knees were rattling just a bit already.

It was almost six o’clock and the sky was barely turning pink. I turned to look at my father. He would not make eye contact. He looked ashamed. But there was no other choice.

We both knew we might not see each other again. But if I didn’t go – if he didn’t go – he would never even have a chance.

Finally, he looked at me as the limo pulled to a stop.

“Be good, child.”

“I will, papa. I… I love you so very much,” I said, throwing my arms around him. He hugged me back fiercely. I could hear him sniffle before he stepped back.

“Your mother would be very proud of you,” he said, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “I am, too.”

“Thank you, papa. Promise me you will try to get well.”

“I promise. Now go on,” he gestured. “The man is holding the door for you!”

I nodded, wiping the back of my hand across my eyes. The driver was waiting, though I could detect nothing from him. Not impatience. Not disdain.

“Stay in touch. Every step of the way.”

“I promise. But you keep your mind on your work and your music!”

“I will,” I said, and slid into the limo. I stared at him out the window as we pulled away, shocked by how small he looked. Shocked by how much I missed him already.


Advertisement

<<<<567891727>84

Advertisement