Russian Mafia Tsar [18+]

Chapter 2 - Kirill

Kirill Alekseev had an imposing look. He was a six foot five muscular man who looked down on mostly everyone he met. He knew he was handsome with dark brown hair, magnetic green eyes, and strong Slavic face features.

He also knew his appearance was different than most Russian criminals and he played on that to his advantage. He lived by one rule: If I like it and want it, it's mine.

Standing in the meeting room of a New York skyscraper, looking down at the city, he was reminded of how much he had achieved. Starting from absolutely nothing, being born in a small Russian village, Kirill killed, robbed, lied, cheated, and manipulated his way to the the top of Russian crime circles.

How could he, a small young weak boy, beaten by his alcoholic father, now stand in the richest city in the world?

He did it, he achieved it, he looked down from his height upon the city and knew that nothing, absolutely nothing would stand in his way of getting what he wanted.

And now, he wanted her, whether she felt the same way eventually or not. He would claim her. She would be his prize, his possession.

His forever obsession.

He met Mia without her knowing it. She was 19 years old when she took her trip to Russia, spending two weeks in Moscow and St. Petersburg with her university Russian class group.

On a warm summer evening, the trip organizers had the group travel the city on a boat on the Neva river in St. Petersburg and then go to a club for a fun night of dancing.

That's where he saw her.

Carefree, sexy, sweet young girl who oozed warmth and positivity while killing it on the dance floor. She was sexy without trying. While most girls got all dolled up to go to a club, she was wearing a simple white t-shirt with jeans and converse shoes, it's a miracle she was let into the club with that look, in Russia.

But it was her precisely not trying to be sexy that made her unbelievably attractive.

Kirill was instantly smitten. The moment he decided to give the dance floor a once over, she caught his eye.

Leaving his VIP section, he walked to the balcony to get a closer look at the girl who seemed to so easily steal his attention without uttering a word or even looking at him. He was a skilled thief too, but not like that.

Intently, without caring who noticed, he stared at her body, her fluid rhythmic movements, her hips moving to the music, the smile plastered on her face and her luscious breasts bouncing with her movements.

He realized then and there that she was trouble, he couldn't be so careless and get so intensely interested in a stranger, but he was physically unable to look away.

He called over one of his men and commanded him to find out who she was and who she was with. Within minutes the man came back delivering an annoying message: she was a tourist, here with a travel group, she mostly didn't speak Russian.

What a kick in the balls, Kirill thought. He spoke no English, and most of all, he didn't want to scare her by insisting her and her friends come up to his VIP section.

And then it happened, she caught him staring and he almost turned away involuntarily from the surprise of her catching him. A devious smile slowly appeared on her face. She began singing along with the music playing in the club while staring straight at him and dancing along.

For the first time in a decade, he didn't know what to do or how to act. She was clearly teasing him, her movements became more pronounced, her hip swirls wider and her eyes not leaving his for a second.