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

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
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“Good.”

“I sent the final information King David wanted for his hunt in Moscow. They should be done soon, and on their way to you.”

I nodded and rubbed my closed eyes. “I talked to David. I expect him here in a few days.”

“You do not sound surprised that I am coming.”

“With Maxwell’s condition, I assumed you would be.”

“But did you assume how much Tisha would fuck this up—”

“He is new to this—”

“They harmed the mother of my child!”

“Valentina is fine—”

“My homey. . .”

His what?

I opened my eyes, unsure of where he was about to go with those words.

“My brother. . .is in a coma—”

“He is not in a coma. . .at least. . .the doctor believes he will wake soon.”

“Kazimir. . .”

“Yes, Misha.”

“I need you to listen to me.”

I let out a long breath, knowing that I wasn’t going to like his next words.

“Put Tisha on a plane, send him to somewhere remote and very, very fucking far away, and do not tell me where—”

“Tisha will remain by my side—”

“He will not!”

I began rubbing the side of my head.

Ava’s soft voice sounded in the background again.

I wished I could talk to her privately.

Please get him calm. We will have enough hot heads in New Orleans. We do not need anymore.

Misha cleared his throat. “Put Tisha and his men on a plane to anywhere that is far and very—”

“We need him and his men—”

“Oh really?” This deadly silence hit the line and then Misha growled, “Understood, Kazimir.”

I raised one eyebrow. “Understood?”

“When I see him, I will kill him.”

I frowned.

“It is what I want to do anyway. This gives me permission—”

“We will not fight with each other, when we are already surrounded by many—”

“I see Tisha’s face, and he is dead, so make your move, Lion.”

Dear God. His arrival will trigger a shit show. Hurry here, David.

“Tell me this, Misha.” I leaned my head to the side. “Are you now the Lion, and I the Mosquito?”

Misha’s pause was palpable, a moment stretched thin over miles and miles of tension. When he finally spoke, his tone had shifted to cold. “Am I now the Lion? No.”

I relaxed.

“Am I the Mosquito? Not this time.”

I blinked, wondering if he was high.

“Kazimir.” A deadly edge rode his words. “I am the Nightmare.”

Oh God.

“I am the prophecy of our enemies’ destruction. I am the cold tap of their caskets as they close.”

I continued to rub my head.

“When I arrive, do not greet me, do not discuss the weather or ask about my trip, I only want to discuss strategies of bringing death to those who shot Maxwell. I want all paths of war.”

A chill ran down my spine, and I welcomed it.

“Good, Misha.” I lowered my hand and gazed back at my mouse. “Because after what happened today, there is no other option, but war.”

“I am glad you understand. Now for the next item.”

“Which is?”

“Ufuoma is on her way too.”

I sneered. “Why the fuck did you tell her about Maxwell—”

“She already had people watching him. Apparently, that was how many of the cartel members in the back of the club got shot. It was also her people’s car that took Maxwell to the hospital.”

Black Axe is in New Orleans. Why didn’t Tisha or Valentina know this?

I shook my head.

David would have known. I messed up. Never will I allow David to not be at my side again.

“Kazimir, will Ufuoma’s presence be a problem for your mouse?”

“She does not know what happened in Italy.”

“Ufuoma is bringing an army of Black Axe.”

I tightened my grip on the phone. “Anything else, cousin?”

“Hide Tisha.”

The line went dead.

I placed the phone in my pocket, for some reason it felt like a grenade sitting next to my leg, ready to detonate at any minute.

The air seemed colder too, the hospital’s sterile light harsher.

What will occur in these next days? How will I keep my kids. . .my fiancé. . .safe?

The Cartel’s relentless assault had pushed us to our limits, and our escape through the club’s bathroom window now seemed like a fevered dream.

But the grim reality of our situation was all too clear in the quiet of this hospital.

The Cartels had wanted to send a message, and in doing so, they had torn through the fabric of our lives with a brutality that left scars on the soul.

Maxwell fought for each breath. Emily’s pain was a silent scream against the injustice of it all. My fists clenched at my sides, a vow forming in the tightness of my jaw.

This was not the end.

The Cartel would pay for every tear, for every drop of blood shed.

But first, we had to survive this night, this moment.

Footsteps echoed from down the hall.

Now what?

I looked that way.

Valentina and Tisha moved cautiously down the corridor.

Bandages wrapped tightly around their wounds.

Dried blood stained Valentina’s clothes.

Although Tisha appeared visibly weakened from his injuries, he kept his pace with Valentina, and his jaw was set in a bleak line of pain.



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