You Don't Know Me: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance by Georgia le Carre

Then I fill its pockets with dog treats. Standing in front of the mirror, I take down my hairdo and tie my hair into a ponytail instead. I make the bed with the pillows arranged to look like a sleeping person, then I call the minicab company and arrange for them to pick me up in ten minutes at the end of my street.
    I look around me. Everything is as it should be. I pick up Sergei’s bed and his toys and call to him. ‘Come on, you’re sleeping with your grandma, tonight,’ I tell him. He looks at me reproachfully so I hug and tell him that one day, one day, I will take him to meet Noah.
    Switching off the light, I close the door and go back to Baba’s bedroom. After I have settled Sergei and bade my grandma goodbye, I run downstairs. The house is quiet and still, and the soft soles of my shoes make no sound as I go out through the side door that locks after itself. I walk quickly towards the back of the house. The Rottweilers come to me, triggering the security lights; they make quiet whining noises.
    ‘It’s only me,’ I tell them, giving them little liver treats.
    After I have sent them away I watch the moths fly towards the bright security lights. Just before they switch off, I start to count the seconds for the camera to come back around. The lights die and I carry on counting the seconds.
    When I have counted enough time for the camera to do its sweep of that patch of ground, I run to the wall and, stepping into the grooves in it, climb over it. I drop onto the other side as nimble as a cat (I have been doing this for many years) and casually walk down the road. The taxi with the minicab company’s name printed on the door is waiting for me at the end of it. I open the door, slip into it, and give the driver Noah’s address.
    My heart is hammering in my chest. 

Eighteen
    Noah Abramovich
    There is beauty in everything.
    All you have to do is open up your heart
    -Mahinour
    T here are no stars in the night sky above, and the air is strangely heavy and full of static electricity. A storm must be coming. I stand in my back garden smoking a cigarette, my whole body tight and strung out. It is waiting for hers.
    For so many years, I dreamed of her. I dreamed of conquering her, fucking her, branding her, pulling the stuck-up Princess’s hair, forcing her to take my cock, and seeing her on her knees cowed and submissive. All it took was one night. Just one night for her to turn my dream to ashes.
    If I was a tree, I lost, leaf by fucking leaf.
    The tip of my cigarette glows amber as I inhale deeply. I look at my watch. It’s already twelve thirty. She won’t come tonight. It is too late. The disappointment is like a crushing weight on my chest, but I tell myself it is for the best. It disturbs me to think of her taking a taxi at this time of the night. The world is a cruel place for a beautiful woman.
    I flick the cigarette away and roll my tense shoulders. Her black velvet box of earrings is burning a hole in the pocket of my pants. I take it out and open it. The jewels gleam in the light from the open doors. I tilt the box and they catch the light and look like green fire. I stroke the stones. They don’t feel cold to the touch.
    I have never done anything like this before. Always kept my emotions locked away. Nothing but ice-cold concentration for the job at hand. Maybe I shouldn’t have bought them, but at that moment I couldn’t bear for him to claim her as his. She belongs to me and she will be mine even if it is the last thing I do.
    Filled with a deep sense of restlessness, I close the box and drop it back into my pocket. I don’t want to get drunk alone again. I should go out. Maybe I’ll go to the club and have a drink with the boys, though the prospect doesn’t enthuse me.
    I start when I hear the doorbell ring.
    I turn to the sound, staring through the French doors. My heart suddenly pounding.
    Fuck. She came.
    I stride into the house and open the door.
    ‘Hi,’ she says.
    Oh, Tasha, Tasha,