Free You Don't Own Me: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (The Russian Don Book 2) by Georgia le Carre

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    After about fifteen minutes Shane and Snow arrive and I smile happily at them. They are such a beautiful couple everyone turns to watch them. They come up to us.
    ‘Hey Dahlia,’ Shane says.
    Snow kisses me on my cheek. ‘You look absolutely wonderful,’ she says with a lovely smile.
    ‘So do you,’ I say, sincerely looking at her long sleeved powder blue dress. It has little birds embroidered on it.
    As we are making plans to have dinner together, Lenny comes through the door, and Snow pales. Shane puts his arm around her waist and she looks up at him. He smiles down at her and in that look he gives her there’s everything I would love to see in Zane’s face. There’s love, there’s protection, there’s reassurance, there’s lust, and there’s permanence. I’m here forever.
    My eyes slide to Zane and he is looking at Lenny. Lenny is talking to some other people.
    ‘Don’t worry. I won’t leave your side and he will never approach us,’ Shane tells his wife.
    ‘It’s OK. I’m prepared. It’s not like I didn’t know he’d be here,’ she says with a shaky laugh.
    ‘We’re going down to the paddock. Want to come with us?’ Zane invites them.
    ‘Shall we go see the horses,’ Shane asks Snow.
    ‘No, I want to do this. I want him to know I’m not afraid of him,’ Snow says.
    ‘OK, sweetheart.’
    ‘We’ll see you guys later then,’ Zane says, and leads me away. I look sideways up at Zane. ‘What was that all about?’
    ‘Snow used to be with Lenny.’
    ‘What?’ Even the idea that someone as beautiful as Snow could be with a man as repulsive and slimy as Lenny is unthinkable.
    ‘It’s a long story.’
    ‘I don’t like Lenny.’
    He frowns at me. ‘I told you to stay out of it.’
    ‘I’m not interfering. I’m just stating my opinion.’
    ‘Just stay as far away from him as you can, Dahlia,’ he says softly.
    ‘Don’t worry I plan to.’
    Here we are. This is where one comes to see how a horse is behaving before the race starts. 
    I have never been to a racecourse before and Zane explains me that horses are like people. They have good days and bad days and the paddock was the place to see if they are nervous and sweating a lot (the ones with big dark splotches on their coat) or even ill if the sweat patch is near its kidneys. He shows me the difference between a preppy horse eager to race, and a jittery one, biting, rearing and turning in circles. That horse he tells me has spunk but is wasting its energy before the race and should be avoided.
    ‘Do you go to the races often?’ I ask.
    ‘Yes. There’s not much to beat spending the whole afternoon and evening watching horses racing and performing at their peak ability.’
    ‘Is that a good horse to pick?’ I ask pointing to a beautiful black stud with a white star on his forehead.
    ‘I wouldn’t,’ he replies.
    ‘No? Do you have a recommendation then?’ I ask curiously. Stella has asked me to place a bet for her too.
    ‘Last Arabian.,’ he says pointing to a gleaming brown horse tossing its head proudly.
    ‘How much should I put on it?’ I ask.
    ‘Everything you’ve got,’ he says seriously.
    My mouth drops open in astonishment. I lean forward and whisper. ‘Are you saying the races are fixed?’
    ‘Not all, but that one is.’
    I stare at him in disbelief. He is so beautiful yet so spectacularly foreign to me. ‘How do you fix a match in this day and age?’
    ‘Pay the other jockeys to throw the race.’
    ‘Oh my God,’ I gasp. I have never met anyone who was so relaxed and casual after doing such a criminal thing.
    He looks at me curiously. ‘Why are you so shocked?’
    ‘Of course, I’m shocked,’ I whisper fiercely.
    He seems surprised. ‘Why? The most important things in this world are fixed. From gold prices (twice a day) to mortgage rates, to which country gets to host the Olympics. Even the results you see on Google are completely manipulated. It’s all corrupt, but so well hidden that