You Don't Own Me: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (The Russian Don Book 2) (7 page)

‘I know you said you didn’t have a choice to enter this brutal world, but you have a choice now. You can stop. You can walk away from this life.’

‘This the only life I know,
rybka
.’

Last Arabian wins his race in the last few seconds. It looks so real. No one could have suspected. I look at Zane and his face is no different than any other gambler there. Shane and Snow don’t stay. Lenny keeps away from me.

We go into the restaurant and eat a five-course delicious meal with an international twist to it. I talk and laugh and put on my happy face. Stella calls and is disappointed that I did not put any money on a horse. I will tell her later about Last Arabian. I know she will understand that I have put, but a foot in Zane’s world and only because it is the only way I know to stay in there long enough to try and pull him out of it. 

Dahlia Fury

‘Y
ou know it is Aleksandr’s birthday tomorrow,’ Olga says when I go downstairs for breakfast.

I look at her in amazement. ‘Oh? He never said anything.’

‘He never does. That is why I am telling you. In case you wanted to celebrate it in some way …’ She lets her voice trail off as she packs the cavity of a duck with herbs and sausage meat and orange slices.

I frown. ‘What usually happens on his birthday?’

She glances at me. ‘Absolutely nothing.’

‘What? Not even a cake with some candles on it?’

‘I’ve been working for Aleksandr for nearly ten years and not once has he celebrated his birthday. I’ve never so much as seen a birthday card arrive.’

I look at her curiously. ‘Why will nobody even send a card?’

She shrugs. ‘Probably because he doesn’t tell anyone it’s his birthday so no one knows to do anything.’

‘How do you know it’s his birthday then?’

‘Well, I saw his passport sitting on his desk one day and peeked into it,’ she confesses.

‘Olga,’ I shout and burst into laughter. Honestly, she is so cute.

She makes a face. ‘It’s not like I harmed anyone. I just wanted to know how old he was.’

‘So how old is he?’

‘He is thirty-four tomorrow.’

I think for a moment. ‘Should I plan something for him, Olga, or is that just going to make him angry that I have been putting my nose where he obviously doesn’t want anybody’s?’

‘It’s up to you, but I could bake a cake if you asked me to,’ she says, looking at me hopefully, willing me to pick up the gauntlet and run with it.

For a few seconds I hesitate. What if he is one of those sour people who don’t like anyone to make a fuss over their birthdays? Stella’s grandfather is like that. He goes mad if anybody even wishes him happy birthday, let alone buys him a present. He grumbles that presents are a total waste of money. Then I think: what the heck? I should throw a little surprise party. It’ll be fun. This house is way too dead.

‘Yes, bake a cake, Olga. We’ll surprise him with a party. Nothing grand or too intrusive, just the staff.’

Olga smiles and nods with approval.

‘I think we’re going out for dinner, and when we get back I’ll bring him into the living room. It has to be dark and when he switches on the light everyone can pop up from their hiding places and scream surprise. Then you can bring in the cake with lighted candles. We’ll all sing happy birthday and maybe have a toast.’

Olga smiles happily. ‘That sounds like a wonderful idea. I’ll make strawberry cake. It’s his favorite.’

I smile back excited by the idea of throwing a surprise party for Zane. ‘Thank you for telling me, Olga. He should have a proper birthday.’

‘Yes, he should,’ she says softly.

‘I’ll go out today and buy him a present.’

That afternoon I go out with Noah. First we pass by my workplace to drop off read manuscripts and pick up more. Then we go shopping.

It’s hard to know what to get for a man who already has everything. Of course, Noah is no help. Just for fun I get him a set of 4 Star Wars flash drives. They are really cute and they should make him smile. I chose Darth Vader, Yoda, Chewbacca and C-3PO.

With my flash drives safely in my bag I get the driver to take me to Coco De Mer. Neither the driver nor Noah show any reaction. Noah waits outside while I go in and buy an A10 Cyclone hands free Male Masturbator and the lubricant that goes with it.

Outside, Noah’s eyes drift to my package. ‘Done?’

‘Nearly. I just need to quickly pop into Non Stop Party in Kensington to pick up some stuff.

At Non Stop Party I buy loads of silver and black balloons, streamers, banners, wrapping paper and a funny card with a grinning monkey with the words:

Don’t panic. You’ve still got it.

For my last item I walk into Dune and buy every scented candle they have in stock. It comes up to just over a hundred.

‘All done,’ I tell Noah.

‘If you think of something else you need let me know. I’m around anytime,’ he says.

‘Why thank you, Noah,’ I say.

A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. ‘Glad to be able to help,’ he says gruffly.

Once we get home he helps me carry all my purchases up to my room. After he has gone, I sit down on the bed and begin to wrap them up. A part of me can’t wait for tomorrow. To see Zane’s reaction. Halfway through wrapping Yoda, my sister calls me on Skype.

‘Hey you,’ I say cheerily.

She doesn’t even say hello. ‘Are you still at your friend’s house?’ she asks.

Shit, she has recognized the background. ‘Yeah. I’m kind of staying here. I know I said it was a friend’s house, but actually it’s my … er … boyfriend’s house.’

She frowns, her eyes narrowed and suspicious. ‘What? Why would you hide that from me?’

‘Ummm … it’s kind of complicated, but basically, I wasn’t sure if it was going to come to anything so there was no point in saying anything if it was going to be a non event.’

She rolls onto her front on the bed and lays her chin in her folded hands. ‘You haven’t told mom either, have you?’

‘And have her quiz me about it all the time? No thanks!’

She grins. ‘So come on, who is he?’

‘Uh … his name is Zane, well, that’s like a nickname. His real name is Aleksandr Malenkov.’

‘That’s not an English name,’ she notes.

‘No. He’s Russian.’

Her eyes widen. ‘You’re going out with a Russian guy?’

‘Yup.’

‘Is he nice?’

‘Here let me send you a pic of him,’ I say and send a pic over to her.

‘OMG!’ she exhales. ‘He looks so big and fierce. What’s he like, a wrestler or something?

‘No.’

‘So what does he do?’

‘Umm … he’s a businessman.’

‘Oh, what kind of business?’

‘Er … something to do with credit cards,’ I say vaguely.

My sister is on to me straight away. ‘Are you hiding something, Dahlia?’

‘No, why?’

‘I don’t know. You sound sort of evasive. Is everything OK?’

‘Of course. It’s his birthday tomorrow and I’m just sitting here wrapping some presents for him.’

‘Oh yeah. How old is he tomorrow?’

‘Thirty-four.’

‘God, that’s old.’

‘No, it’s not,’ I say immediately.

What did you get him anyway?’

I pick up the unwrapped Star Wars flash drives and show them to her.

‘Cool,’ she says.

‘So what about you then? Everything OK with you?’ I ask.

‘Yeah. I think I might get promoted soon.’

I beam at her. ‘Really? That’s fantastic.’

‘Yeah, Mr. Stevens said I was doing a fine job and that he might have some really good news for me next month.

‘That’s awesome, honey. You always give your best and you sooooo deserve it.’

Daisy looks pleased.

‘Daisy?’

‘What?’

‘Um … you know when you were kidnapped?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You don’t have any lasting ill effects from it do you?’

Her forehead creases. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean like flashbacks or bad dreams … or any phobias?’

‘Nah,’ she says immediately and I feel a great sense of relief. ‘Now it feels more like a dream. It’s so surreal. But I’m more careful now though. I wouldn’t trust strangers as easily as before.’

‘Do you hate the people who kidnapped you?’

‘No, but I feel guilty.’

‘Guilty? Why?’

‘Sometimes I think about those other girls. What has happened to them? Where are they now? Are they still even alive?’

It makes me feel really bad that I can’t tell her there were no other girls. It was just a tape recorder. ‘Girls are abducted every day, Daisy. It just never directly touches us so we never think about it, but even if we did what can we do about it? In that respect we are as helpless as they are.’

‘I guess you’re right,’ she says slowly.

‘Just don’t think about them, OK. You can’t help them and you’ll just end up being less grateful for all the blessings you have.

‘Dahlia, can I ask you something?’

‘Of course.’

‘Is this man you’re going out with the one that helped to find me?’

My heart feels heavy. I’ve never deliberately kept a secret from my sister, but how can I ever tell her this? ‘Yes,’ I say. In a way it is not a lie. He had a hand in her release.

‘Maybe one day I can thank him myself,’ she says.

‘OK,’ I say with a smile.

‘Yeah, I’d like to. I feel really grateful to him. Give me your address and I’ll send him a card.’

I text the address to her and we end the conversation. For a long time I stare at the Chewbacca flash drive feeling guilty and confused. It is such a big secret to keep forever, but maybe I won’t have to. Maybe one day when I have learned how to fly, when I have pulled Zane out of this life, I will sit Daisy down and tell her everything.

I wrap the flash drives and go downstairs to see how Olga is coming along with her preparations for the party.

Dahlia Fury

http://mp32016.xyz/play/happy-birthday-russian-song

A
s it turns out, Zane is busy in the early evening and asks me to meet him at the restaurant at eight o’clock. This works out brilliantly as it means I can help prepare the living room and the bedroom. Olga and I fill the living room with balloons and streamers, hang up Happy Birthday banners, then I go upstairs to the bedroom and fill it with the hundred candles. I make a path that leads to the bed. Olga says she will get Noah to call her when we are ten minutes away from the house.

Then I have a long soak in the bath and think about the night ahead. My crafty plan is to don a very simple, sleeveless black dress with a high neck. Boring as hell and suitable for funerals, but it is the perfect cover story for what I plan to wear underneath. A halter neck chemise dress with horizontal slashes from the neckline to hem, and a lace-up back that basically leaves my bare bottom peeking out of the crisscross of the laces. With it I will team black thigh highs and scarily high heels. Naturally, I won’t wear any panties. Evil grin. He won’t know what hit him.

Nun outside and slut inside, I go with Noah to meet Zane at Parma. We proceed to have a lovely dinner, but it kind of shocks me how utterly secretive he is. At no time during dinner does he ever mention that it is his birthday. His demeanor is so normal that I begin to doubt that it’s his birthday. Who completely ignores their birthday? What if Olga got it wrong? But it is too late to change my plans and so what if it is not his birthday? A party is a party, so I smile, laugh, eat, drink and tremble inside with suppressed excitement at the thought of what I have planned for him.

It’s nearly ten thirty by the time we leave the restaurant, and I have to marvel at how fantastic these Russian men are at keeping secrets. There is nothing in Noah’s face to indicate he’s in on the plan. No secret wink, knowing smile, or tap on the nose. God, with all these stoic people around I pray my party doesn’t fall flat on its little face. Where is Stella when I need her?

We walk in through the front door and from the corner of my eyes I can see Noah holding back.

‘I’m so sleepy today,’ I say, affecting a huge yawn.

‘It’s 10.30,’ Zane says.

‘Maybe one drink,’ I say, and start walking towards the living room where everyone is hiding. I open the door and suddenly Zane grabs me by my upper arm and jerks me back so I tumble against his body. A yelp of shock exits my mouth. What the hell? With lightning speed Zane closes the door and with his hand still gripping my arm turns towards Noah.

‘Why are there no lights in that room?’ Zane asks urgently. His face is wary, and his voice is low and tense.

I look at Noah and very nearly laugh. For a second his face is a classic picture of shit-what-the-fuck-do-I-do-now? But I have to hand it to these Russians. They really are closed books, by closed what I mean is super-glued shut.

With a totally straight face Noah says, ‘It’s my fault. We had a short circuit earlier, the electrics tripped, and I forgot to switch the lights back on.’

‘I’ll go and turn them back on,’ he offers.

Zane visibly relaxes. His hand uncurls around my arm. ‘No, it’s OK. You can leave now. Thanks.’

Even though he has been reassured, he does not let me go in first. ‘Wait here,’ he says and opens the door. He goes in, switches on the light, and in a flash all his staff jump out from the hiding places and scream ‘Happy Birthday.’

Zane freezes, frowns, shakes his head as if in disbelief, then looks at me with a confused expression. ‘You did this?’

‘
S-DYNOM va-RYEN’-ya!
’ I yell. Olga taught it to me: Happy birthday in playful Russian. Russian is apparently not like English. There is also the serious version. I hope I pronounced it right.

Zane lips curve with amusement, which means I obviously didn’t.

Then Olga brings the cake with all the candles towards us. It has intricate black candy melt mesh and is decorated with lots of fresh strawberries on top. Music starts and everybody sings the Russian birthday song. It has the kind of beat that I associate with Zorba the Greek. Zane just stares at everybody with a slightly dazed expression. I can see that he is totally floored at being ambushed in this way. The song stops and everybody claps.

‘
Za-ga-DAT-zhi-LA-nee-ya
,’ Olga says. I know she is telling him to make a wish.

His eyes dart towards me. I smile widely at him. He takes a deep breath and blows out the candles in one puff. Everybody cheers and claps. Glasses of vodka are produced and passed around. One quickly finds its way into my hand.

Noah shouts out a strange thing, ‘Ah, the cake is bitter.’

I look at him in surprise. What the hell is he talking about? The cake has not even been cut. Zane turns to look at me.

‘What?’ I ask looking around because everybody is looking at me with a teasing expression.

‘It’s an ancient Russian custom. Your guests are asking you to make it sweeter with a long sweet kiss.’

I pass my glass to Nico, the boy who feeds the birds, and smile cheekily at him. ‘I’m game if you are.’

Zane sweeps me into his arms in a grand and dramatic gesture dips me back over his arm. ‘Don’t drop me,’ I laugh.

Then he starts kissing me. I imagined it would be a quick peck or a little comedy kiss to entertain the crowd, but our lips lock, and to my surprise everybody starts counting the seconds off.

One, Two, Three …

After the count of five I stop hearing their voices. My mouth opens. The kiss becomes magical, like a kiss from a fantasy. I’ve never been kissed so passionately in front of so many people. There is so much emotion in the kiss, the world around me becomes an indistinct blur and finally ceases to exist all together. There is no one else but Zane and I.

I could have remained in that beautiful fantasyland forever, but Zane lifts his head and rights me. Everybody stops counting and raises their glasses in a toast. For a few seconds Zane’s eyes are dark with passion then he takes a deep breath, his nostrils flaring, and straightening me, turns to face everybody. My knees feel like jelly.
Oh, God, please don’t let that kiss and that look be only a stolen moment.

‘
Osvezhit
,’ Noah says.

‘That means refresh,’ Zane translates for me.

Our glasses are quickly refilled.

The next toast is by Yuri and literally translates as no long breaks between the first and second toasts.

‘Because we Russians don’t allow long breaks between toasts,’ Zane explains and everyone downs the second lot of alcohol.

More vodka is poured. Olga is already starting to look red-cheeked.

‘
Nu, poneslis
,’ everyone yells, and down the hatch the vodka goes.

‘Here we go again,’ Zane translates for me.

‘How many more toasts are there going to be?’ I ask, feeling the burn in my veins.

‘We cut the cake now,’ Olga says. She cuts the cake and puts the slice on a little plate and offers it to me.

‘First one is for the birthday boy,’ she says.

I break off a piece and put it into his mouth. He catches my fingers and licks them. Around us the staff are milling about eating cake and helping themselves to all the delicious goodies Olga has made. I look into Zane’s eyes and all I want to do is tell him I love him, but I can’t. I know it’s too soon.

More glasses of vodka are passed around. ‘To the beautiful women in this room,’ Zane says looking into my eyes.

I know that it is probably just another Russian custom because all the men are echoing it in Russian, but for some crazy reason I blush with pure pleasure. The vodka is going to my head and I really should stop or I’ll ruin all my plans.

I fork a bit of crabmeat salad into my mouth and watch Zane surrounded by his staff. They treat him the way people who have suddenly discovered a lion is tame do. They try to touch it, but carefully, and with great caution. There are many birthday cards for Zane, but I notice that nobody has bought him anything. I guess they had the same problem as me, but can’t buy him a masturbator like I did. After about an hour Zane calls the last toast.

‘
Na pososhok
,’ he says, and everybody drinks the last drink.

He takes my hand and we leave them to carry on drinking. When the door closes he looks down at me. ‘So you threw me a surprise party, huh? How very American of you?’

I grin. ‘An American party with vodka, Russian toasts, and strawberry cake?’

‘So … who told you it was my birthday?’

‘Er … I’m not really at liberty to say.’

‘Olga then.’

‘I’m not saying.’

He grins. ‘I might want to give her a raise.’

‘Do you really?’

He shrugs. ‘Maybe.’

‘You’ll have to promise that you will before I consent to reveal my source,’ I say sternly.

‘You’ve already revealed your source, silly dove.’ He musses my hair. ‘Thank you. I haven’t had a birthday party since I was twelve.’

‘Wow! Why?’

A cloud passes across his face. ‘That’s a story for another day,’ he says.

I don’t let that cloud rain on my parade. I smile seductively. ‘I’ve got one more surprise for you.’

‘Oh yeah?’ he asks cockily.