Dirty Flowers – The Lion and the Mouse Read Online Kenya Wright

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 148949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
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Mysh, I am going to stuff you with this cock the whole time we are hovering over the clouds.

We headed out of the residential section and traveled along the picturesque streets filled with high-end boutiques, gourmet restaurants, and luxurious spas.

Soon, we left the Rublyovka behind and gradually transitioned back into the bustling cityscape of Moscow. The contrast between the peaceful, upscale environment of Rublyovka and the energy of the city was striking.

David spoke, “Do you think you will need refreshments and moments to take a break?”

Grinning, I shook my head. “With this, I will not get tired.”

David really is my best number one.

While Giorgio and Blue had done a good job of hiding the family, neither could ever beat David.

How can I reward him? Perhaps, he needs a special car too.

I made a note to ask my mouse. She has proven to be talented with doing all of the right things for people.

We drove further through Moscow, and I gazed out of the window.

The transition from winter to spring in Moscow was a gradual, yet captivating process. Day by day, the city emerged from the long, frigid months of winter. The snow and ice blanketing Moscow’s streets, parks, and rooftops were slowly melting.

Excitement bubbled within me. “We cannot be in New Orleans for too long. I want my mouse and sons to experience spring in Moscow.”

David threaded his hands in his lap. “It is quite the sight.”

One of the most striking aspects of the transition from winter to spring in Moscow was the reemergence of vibrant colors. The once-barren trees sprouted to buds, eventually unfurling their leaves and filling the city with various shades of green. Flowering trees and shrubs—cherry blossoms, lilacs, and forsythias—burst into bloom, adding a delicate touch of beauty to our urban landscape.

But that was not all.

As the temperatures continued to rise, Moscow’s parks and public spaces came alive with activity. Residents eagerly shed their heavy winter coats and flocked outdoors to enjoy the sunshine and fresh air. The city’s numerous parks—Gorky and Kolomenskoye—transformed into bustling hubs of activity.

Oh. This will be quite the spring.

In my mind, I pictured my mouse and sons having a picnic among the flowers, laughing and playing.

I turned to David. “When you lived in Russia as a kid, did you spend a lot of time in Moscow?”

“Baba and I moved around a lot, but we did spend three years in Moscow.”

“So, you were able to enjoy our spring?”

“I did. My favorite part was all the birds returning and filling the air with their songs.”

“I cannot wait for Emilio to hear the birds for the first time. I want to see his face—those beautiful brown eyes popping open with curiosity.” I chuckled.

“I am sure it will be a sight.” David’s phone rang again. This time, he checked the device, frowned, and then placed it back in his pocket.

He is not going to answer that one.

I quirked my brows. “Who is it?”

“Baba.”

The smile left my face.

David frowned. “I believe Baba is still upset. This is her fifth call since we left.”

“Yet. . .” I shrugged. “This was a great surprise before I left for New Orleans, David. I am truly happy with you as always.”

A tense expression covered David’s face.

“One must not forget that an example needed to be made.”

All the enjoyment of the day dissolved into blazing rage. The gardener had not only violated my mouse and disrespected my relationship, he took a shit on my authority as the Lion.

Surely, by this time, others throughout the world would have heard of what he had done. Everyone from the Brotherhood to the Yakuza and even Corsican would be watching for what was next.

Would the gardener’s death be enough to solidify that I was not to be fucked with?

No true answer came to mind.

All I knew was that I needed to assert my dominance and demonstrate my true capacity for violence and retribution. This display of power served a crucial role in strengthening my position. The blood spilled today would discourage others from messing with my mouse and silence anyone that was currently questioning my leadership.

I was confident that I was making the right decision.

But. . .when I looked at King David, something tugged in my chest.

Suddenly, his face served as a canvas of concern—creased eyebrows furrowing inward and casting shadows over his deep-set eyes. The corners of his mouth were tugged downwards, as if weighed down by the gravity of his thoughts. His eyes darted back and forth in restless motion, betraying a sense of unease and anxiety. A sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, highlighting the tension that gripped his facial muscles.

I pursed my lips together.

Threads of doubt cracked through some of my confidence.

The intensity radiating off David seemed to hint at something deeper and more complex than what was initially apparent.

“You found the family because I demanded it. This is the sign of a good number one.” I studied him. “But, what do you think about my killing the gardener’s family?”



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