The Russian Mobster: Russian Mafia Romance

I sat down in my comfy first class recliner. It was a two thousand dollar flight to go from Miami International Airport to ORY airport in Paris, France.
I flew Air France, grateful that I was above the age of eighteen and could buy my own plane ticket. Speaking of how old I am I just realized that my
birthday was in less than a week.
It was November 29th, and my birthday was December 3rd, I was going to be twenty years old, funny how I hadn't even thought of my birthday until
now.
I guess dealing with Russian and Italian mobsters makes you forget the things that go on around you.
"This is your captain speaking, we will be landing in ORY airport, Paris France in approximately 9 hours, refreshments and blankets will be provided.
Have a safe flight." The Captains voice came in on the intercom.
I sighed as I lay my head down on the back of the fluffy seat, I wondered about Sin, If he was thinking about me, if he was missing me.
I silently cursed myself for bringing his name up, even if it was internally. I couldn't help but miss his gorgeous face, his dark dark hair, and his
gorgeous blue eyes. His piercings that made him totally badass, even his smile. Which was more than enough to make a girl drop dead, even if he

rarely smiled, I saw him first hand when he was happy, and I'd never forget it.
I sighed and shut my eyes, ready for a long flight- and a long rest filled with dreams of Sin.
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.
.
.
.
.
I got off the flight, stretching my legs from the soon-to-be jet leg.
The Airport was crowded with tourists and locals.
I walked over to a desk with a blonde woman sitting at it.

The Russian Mobster: Russian Mafia Romance
Chapter 25
Leap OF Fate
Chapter 97

"Excuse me?" I asked.
She looked at me confused and I assumed that she didn't speak English.
I cleared my throat, "Excusez-moi , Salut désolé. Je voudrais prendre un taxi . Pouvez-vous m'aider?"
(Excuse me, Hi sorry. I would like to get a cab. Can you help me?)
She looked up at me, a smile replaced her nervous look.
"Oui bien sûr. Mes excuses. Laissez-moi appeler un pour vous. Votre nom?" She slurred quickly. (Yes, of course. My apologies. Let me call one in for
you. Your name?)
I hesitated, "Aleksei. Merci." (Thank you)
I decided just to give her my middle name, as a...safety pro-caution.
.
.
20 minutes later I was in a Taxi.
"Where to miss?" The bearded man in the front asked me. His french accent was strong and thick.
I smiled, " twenty-two Les Halles on the 1er arrondissement."
The car lurched forward and I began the car ride to some long missed family friends, who could help me....
Reading History

Hot Men Society Series: Desire of Mr. Fuck Boy
Chapter 40