Russian-singles Novels & Stories

Her husband’s. “Lovely to meet you, Ms. Romano,” he said while his stare was on his wife and her eyes solely. She simply glared back at him while chugging down seven shot glasses at once and flashed him a smile while getting up. His hands slid onto her waist and pulled her closer to his chest. “But excuse me and my wife, she wants to dance, don’t you дорогой (sweetheart in Russian)” “Yeah, I want to dance with the stupid Russian mafia boss who has an ugly shirt on.” She slurred while gritting her teeth knowing that the man would not budge but she went along with it and they made their way to the dance floor.

Reading through the text message, a smirk found its way to my lips. RUSLAN: Don't dance or flirt with other men because you already have a fiancé. Did I make myself clear? IVANA: I planned on fucking a random guy tonight and lose my V card, it's of no use to me. The smirk on my lips slowly turned into a smile as I sent a reply to him and in less than a minute, he fucking replied. RUSLAN: Don't you fucking dare, Ivana Alex!

He is very much single. Well, that's the information I know about him. I should try trapping him, right? I need to meet him and make a business deal with him. Why won't he make a business deal with me? I am one of the multi billionaires in Russia. In fact, he should be happy that I want to make a business deal with him. I took his business card and put it inside my pocket and went back inside. I locked the door and went to the bedroom to sleep. I slept on our bed. I am so happy that I am back with this woman.

“Yeah but that″ she pointed over to him. “Is a fucking beautiful specimen of a man he has to be an exception no?” “No no exceptions.” “You’re crazy like seriously crazy. When was the last time you even had sex?” Her hand was on her hip now another grasped around a bottle. “Ages ago, but that’s irrelevant.” “No it isn’t!” She nearly shouted. “Give him your number, let him fuck you silly and go on your merry way. Where is he from? He don’t look like many of the others.” “Russia.” “Oh shit his Russian?! Seriously Harper, nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

She nodded her head. "Ok let's do some work" she said while placing some file infront of me "I used my resources to find some information about the Russian and Brazilian " she said. "What information did you found?" I asked her. "So the Russians mob boss name is Ivan Volkov. He is an orphan and he only has a elder sister as a family. He was a part of Russian mafia but after working hard few years now he is the boss. There isn't much to know about him since he is a very introvert person " she told.

“Come again… I am fucking 21 and what are you ..? A sixty years old man …?” “For god sake you are just thirty Raze. How can you bring your age as an excuse for this whatever happened between us…” ​​​​​ “It’s forbidden .. can’t happen. You will forget me slowly when you find a goo…” “The fuck the good man …I swear if you say one more time this ..I don’t know what I would do with you ", she slapped his chest but still he was not looking at her. “Seriously tell me you don’t find me good enough for you right ? I am looking ugly , short and a naïve girl. How can anyone want to share their life with me after all I am raised in a brothel so you might be thinking I was a slut "

The expensive suit he wore looked as though it barely contained his wide shoulders, the material straining over his muscles as he moved. And his eyes were burning my skin as he blatantly stared at me. I froze in place and goosebumps spread over my skin. He was excruciatingly slow to take the drink and remove his hand from mine. "I'm Aleksander. It's a great pleasure to meet you, Rhea", His sultry Russian voice danced through my senses and at the end my face flushed. "I saw your show tonight. It was wonderful", My eyes widened at that. "Oh, thank you." A soft laugh slipped through my lips before l could stop myself.

I press the blade against Ryan’s leg, digging it into his flesh slowly, watching the pain contort his face. “You think this is a fucking joke?” I snarl, pushing harder until Ryan screams. “Stop, stop!” he gasps. “It’s... it’s not an item they’re after! You think the Russians want something from her?” Tony pauses, and Demitri steps closer, his eyes narrowing. “What do they want, Ryan?” Demitri demands. “What does Sergei want from her?” Ryan laughs again, a sick, twisted sound that’s full of pain. “It’s not... it’s not a thing. They’re after something else... a song.”

Vadim remarked, rubbing his few days old stubble. "I would have done the same, Vadim." He said, shrugging his shoulders, understanding his cousin's fury, and frustration. “I haven't seen Russo this enraged before, he's been wandering around, searching for his wife, looking like a God of death. He's uncontrollable.” He said with a long exhale. Vadim locked eyes with him. "No doubt. You two are the most feared leaders." He said with a smirk. "Brother! See! I brought your lost girlfriend home!" Their heads turned to the door as they heard a loud voice.

“And here I thought it was because I’m devastatingly hot.” “That too,” he said, not missing a beat. He really didn’t know who I was. Even better. “So, Martin,” I purred, taking a slow sip of that offensively fancy milkshake, “are you single or just good at pretending you’re not married to a Russian wife?” He laughed, genuinely. “Single. You trying to change that, Leni?” I tilted my head. “What makes you think I’m a good pick?” “Just a guess,” he said with a shrug. “You’re confident, a quiet thinker and smart. You are as playful but yet cunning as they come.”