Chapter 64

669K 18.6K 21.9K
                                    

Thank you guys for all the birthday wishes yesterday :))

Fun fact: did you know a woman's butt sticks out 25 percent more when she is wearing heels??

I. Love. Heels.

***

Sinister's POV:

I had my men track calla's call, I don't know how she managed to get a cellphone, but just hearing her voice made me want to cry.

Manly, I know.

We were already in Russia, talking to individual gangs that worked for me, I managed to get 3 restaurants that were the Bratva gangs favorite places to go to. There was Café Pushkin, Piccolino, and Buono.

We had already been to Café Pushkin, it was almost embarrassing, walking in with 50 men trailing behind me, guns pointed.

Calla was nowhere to be found, and I had to pay the establishment $5,000 for "emotional discretion".

We drove in the car, on our way to Buono. My hands gripped my .9mm, my knuckles turning white. Afanas, who sat next to me, pulled out a small tube of powdered cocaine. His face held a big smile.

"Really?" I sighed.

"It helps me concentrate." He shrugged as he snorted a line.

I had brought, almost, the entire Mafia with us to Moscow. I rented a commercial airline, and stocked my men with $600,000 worth of artillery. We were heavily armed, and extremely pissed.

The car pulled to an abrupt stop outside the extravagant restaurant. I stepped out of the sleek black car, watching in amusement as 7 other SUV's pulled up, my men stepping out. The sound of fire trucks and law enforcement was distant, and I paid it no mind.

Gabriel and Afanas stood beside me, awaiting orders.

"Let's make this as simple as possible" I called out to my men "we go in, guns drawn, if Calla is there, we retrieve her. Shoot Illeya and Steffen on sight."

My men nodded to me, I pulled out an AK-47, nodding to Afanas.

I peered inside the restaurant, frowning as I saw small orange flames licking the walls of the interior. I heard the sirens of Firetrucks getting closer.

"She's there."

***

Calla's POV:

"Stop fucking chasing me, Donald Trump!!" I shrieked as I dodged a dining table.

The fire had drawn attention from the customers, and the establishment was in complete chaos. People were running around, screaming, trying to dodge the flames that had spread.

Vasily and Steffen were hot on my heels as I sprinted past booths and tables, and into the girls bathroom. I slammed the door behind me, locking it with extreme force.

I heard the slamming of those pricks trying to get in. Their fists pounded on the door.

"I have explosive diarrhea!" I screamed "don't come in!!!"

They kept pounding on the door. Inappropriate assholes.

Suddenly I heard screaming, and gunshots erupting in the room, the muffled sounds of Steffen cursing made me grin.

My baby's back.

"Sinister!!" I screamed "I'm in the bathroom!!" I made a poor attempt at notifying him, but the sounds of Steffen and Vasily's pounding blocked out my screams.

I Am Not A Prostitute: Mafia Romance (18+ Only)Where stories live. Discover now