Russian Mobster's Forbidden Mistress

Table of Contents

Russian Mobster’s Forbidden Mistress

By: Bella Rose

All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2016 Bella Rose

 

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Chapter One

 

 

Daniella Mikalevich put in her earbuds and turned up the volume on her MP3 player. Unfortunately, that did almost nothing to drown out the sound of her idiotic brother and his pals. The menfolk were downstairs playing poker. Considering the raucous shouting and rude noises going on down there, it was really no wonder that most of those guys were still single.

Belting out the lyrics to her favorite song, Dani dug through her boxes looking for her club wear. She had only left her college dorm room behind three days ago, yet she was already regretting her decision to spend the summer at home with her ailing father. Mostly she was disgusted by having to be anywhere near her older brother.

Dani was spinning around in circles while using a hairbrush like a microphone when someone pounded with such force on her bedroom door that it drowned out the music.

Already knowing full well who was on the other side of the door, Dani flung it open. “What?”

“Your shrieking is making it impossible for us to finish our game,” Mikhail said angrily.

Dani and her brother had never been close. He was two years older and had a mean streak that always made her uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t have to keep turning up my music if you and your perpetually adolescent friends weren’t down there making so much noise. I swear, Mikhail, are you guys watching porn or something?”

“With Papa’s spoiled little princess back in the house?” Mikhail sneered. “Not likely.”

They were speaking in English, but Mikhail’s voice carried more than a hint of a Russian accent while Dani’s carried none. She still spoke Russian quite fluently, but her father had sent her to a prestigious boarding school, and then a good university out of an honest desire to see Dani become Americanized.

“You are
such
an asshole,” Dani muttered. “Seriously. Do you have to work at it? Or does it just come naturally to you?”

“Does what come naturally?” Mikhail switched to Russian. “Being Russian? Of course it comes naturally to me. Unlike you, the American brat.”

Sometimes Dani regretted her father’s choice. There had always been a wedge between her and Mikhail, but since she’d left for school it had become a chasm. She put up one hand and responded carefully in Russian. “Look, I know we’ve had our differences, but Papa is sick and it does him no good to have us fighting. So can we get along just for the summer until I go back to school?”

Mikhail’s derisive snort was enough to tell her what he thought of that idea, although he
did
switch back to English. “I don’t give two shits what you want to do or what you think is good for Papa. I’ve been here every day since the beginning. Now you come flying in for the summer and you think you’re special or something. Just stay out of my way and we’ll get along fine.” Mikhail’s nostrils flared. “I have a business to run.”

More like Mikhail had a
mob
to run. Their family business involved bookies, illegal fights, money laundering, and illegal imports. It wasn’t like Mikhail was running a bank. Most of what he did fell under the heading of strong-arming people for money. But she didn’t think Mikhail would appreciate her take on his career choice.

“Daniella?” Their father’s reedy voice drifted down the hallway. “Daughter, where are you?”

Mikhail made a
tsking
noise. “Oh, Papa is calling.”

“Gee, and I’m the one answering and making sure he’s all right,” Dani said sweetly. “Is there anything else you want me to do because you either don’t care or can’t stomach it?”

Mikhail clamped his teeth together so hard that his jaw jumped, but he didn’t answer back. Instead, he turned around and made his full retreat to the downstairs poker game. Dani watched him go. It was probably just as well. They weren’t going to say anything nice, and whatever they
did
say was likely to make the animosity between them worse.

“Daniella?”

She sighed and turned toward her father’s suite at the end of the hallway. They had hired a full-time nurse, but Papa still preferred to have family keeping him company. Dani had always figured that desire came from her father’s lack of trust in anyone who wasn’t family, or part of their family “business.”

“Papa, I’m right here,” Dani said gently. “What did you need?”

She nodded to the nurse who was refilling her father’s pill minders at a side table. It bothered Dani to see so much medication in the room, but her father’s liver had nearly shut down after so many decades of heavy drinking and poor nutrition.

“I heard you and your brother fighting,” Papa said in Russian.

No doubt he refused to speak English to avoid letting the nurse in on their private family business. Now didn’t seem the right time to tell him that the poor woman spoke Russian about as well as Dani did.

Dani perched on the edge of his bed. “Mikhail and I always fight, Papa. You know that.”

“You should at least try to get along with him,
malen’kaya
,” her father admonished. “When I am gone he will be the head of this household.”


Pfft
,” Dani said, waving her hand. “He’s not head of me, Papa. You sent me to school so that I could support myself. I will be fine, with or without Mikhail.”

Her father sighed. He took her hand in his and she was alarmed to see how much he had aged in such a short time. She had been home at Christmas and he had seemed so much more robust than he was right now.

Papa and Mikhail shared the same strong Mikalevich features with their broad faces, ruddy skin, and dark hair and eyes. Dani stared at their father and wondered if Mikhail would look like this after a life spent drinking and stressing out about pretty much everything. This was not what she wanted.

“You are so like your mother,” Papa whispered in a paper-thin voice. “You have her beautiful sable hair, and her green eyes.” His eyelids fluttered as his mind danced back in time. “I can still remember the first time I saw my Katya. She was so beautiful.”

“And her father hated you,” Dani teased. “I remember, Papa. You have told me that story every time I see you.”

“And I will continue to tell it until I die,” her father said with a decisive nod.

Dani gently pressed a kiss to her father’s forehead. “Papa, you’re never going to die.”

* * *

Josef sometimes wondered if Mikhail felt any sort of responsibility toward his family. Mikhail and he had been thick as thieves since they were little boys getting sent to the principal’s office for lighting firecrackers in the school bathroom. But lately Josef was beginning to wonder if his friend had a screw loose somewhere.

“Sometimes I wish the bitch would just stay at school and spare us her royal presence,” Mikhail said belligerently. He threw his cards down on the tabletop. “Full house! I win!”

While that wasn’t necessarily true, none of the other five players at the table were willing to argue with the boss. Josef threw his own cards down on the pile. Glancing surreptitiously at the other players, he could easily tell who had good cards and who did not. Josef’s guess was that Vasily had actually won, but wouldn’t say anything. Crossing Mikhail in a poker game wasn’t worth the trouble.

Mikhail scraped the chips in the pot into a pile and began stacking them neatly with his already significant winnings. “Seriously, my sister is so damn entitled, I feel like I trip on her expectations wherever I go in this house while she’s here.”

Boris downed what had to be his tenth shot of vodka that evening. “Eh, sisters are all useless anyway. My father used to say that they were only good for marrying off to get additional sons.”

“That’s a good one!” Mikhail said heartily. “Maybe that’s what I should be doing. I could find her a husband who will take her off my hands.”

“Are you paying her school fees then?” Josef asked, keeping his tone mild and as disinterested as he dared.

“No.” Mikhail shrugged. “But I’m sure as soon as the old man is finally gone I will have to pay out
something
.”

“Since she is your sister, I’m sure that’s true.” Again, Josef tried to seem utterly nonchalant.

“Perhaps I will marry her off to you, eh Boris?” Mikhail kicked their friend and comrade beneath the table.

Boris snorted. “That one is too sassy for me. I prefer a woman who knows her place.”

“Yes, that is definitely a problem with Daniella.” Mikhail shoved the cards at Josef. “Come on, dealer.”

Josef couldn’t have said what came over him, but when he shuffled and subsequently dealt the cards for the next hand, he didn’t bother to stack the deck in Mikhail’s favor.

Around the table, Josef saw eyes flicking nervously at him as the other men realized what had happened. The play went on. The rhythm of the game grew more intense. Cards were thrown, chips were tossed into the pot, bets were called, and when the dust settled, Mikhail had lost about half of his winnings.

“What the hell!” Mikhail stood up so quickly, his chair flipped over backwards. “You bastards are cheating!”

There was a quick round of denials around the table. Boris and Vasily were obviously nervous. Boris’s chubby face was wet with perspiration. The spacious kitchen in the Mikalevich house felt overly warm and cramped.

“Mikhail,” Josef chided. “The rest of us have been losing all night. Surely you’re allowed to have one bad game out of half a dozen or more?”

Mikhail’s expression was taut. Josef could see that his friend was on the verge of an epic explosion. Mikhail was just like that. He always had been, but he was also a loyal friend and a fun companion. At least that was what Josef had always told himself.

Then Mikhail’s face broke into an unexpected smile. “I suppose I can let you poor fools win a few hands. After all, you all work for me, right? I’ll just take it out of your paychecks!”

The raucous laughter at the table was completely disproportionate to Mikhail’s joke. But Josef found himself breathing easier as the atmosphere in the kitchen returned to normal. At least it was normal until Daniella walked into the room.

She didn’t spare any of them a glance, but Josef couldn’t keep his gaze away from her. Petite and fine boned, unlike her brother, Daniella Mikalevich was cute. Josef had always liked her. She’d been the younger sister of his best friend, always tagging along and tattling when she took the notion. She was the apple of her father’s eye.

“What?” Mikhail said to Daniella. “You couldn’t get room service to bring you what you wanted upstairs?”

Daniella snorted, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. “Poor Mikhail. Have you been waiting in your room ringing a bell and expecting a maid to appear? I think you would have to trick some woman into marrying you before you would get that sort of service.”

Mikhail, who had just sat back down, shot out of his chair once again. He looked mad as hell. Josef reached over and grabbed his arm. His friend started, but then seemed to think better of it.

“Let it go,” Josef murmured. “Now isn’t the time.”

Mikhail snarled something uncomplimentary beneath his breath and then decided to ignore his sister. Josef couldn’t seem to do the same. He could smell her somehow. The light floral fragrance of her perfume seemed to drift through the kitchen. Josef stared at her lithe frame, fuller since girlhood and looking so womanly that Josef’s cock started to sit up and take notice.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It wouldn’t do to let his attraction for Mikhail’s younger sister show right here at the table. Yes, she had incredibly pale blond hair that hung nearly to her waist and a set of wide blue eyes that were utterly bewitching. But she was so off limits that he should be looking at anything
but
Daniella.

“Boys,” Daniella said with a sneer as she turned to leave. Oddly, she gave Josef a stiff nod. “Josef.”

Then she was gone.

 

Chapter Two

 

 

“What was that?” Mikhail demanded. He glared at Josef briefly, and then burst into laughter. “I think my sister has the hots for Josef!”

Josef cringed at the attention. Once Mikhail had made it plain that this was a humorous development, the rest of the guys at the poker table started in with their teasing. The hoots and catcalls were reminiscent of a high-school locker room. Josef forced himself to be easy about it, waving his hand in the air as if he were egging them on and not wishing that they would shut up.

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