Page 124 of Immaculate Deception (Romanoff Bratva)

He swivels his head towards me, his eyes lolling about in his head aimlessly. “You think you can top it?”

I shrug. “Maybe. I know powerful people.”

“Powerful people who want you dead,” he laughs. “You ain’t worth shit, girl. I’ve heard the word on you. You’re on the run. Penniless. If you had money, would you really be in this shithole?”

“It’s not a shithole.” June’s voice is soft and timid, but her eyes are as green and fierce as her mother’s.

Tommy winks at his daughter. “It’s just because you don’t know any better, darling. Believe me, when this is all over, and I have my reward, I’ll make sure you live the good life.”

June clings to Ernestine, who is now resting her head on the coffee table, her eyes closed. If her breathing wasn’t so audible, I’d be afraid she was already dead.

This can’t be happening.

“Is there anything aside from money you want?” I ask desperately.

Tommy takes another long drink, looking at me down the length of the bottle. His eyes shine with drunkenness and lust. “Depends. What’s on offer?”

My stomach turns.

I’d rather swallow the entire bottle he’s drinking from and break the glass over my head. But if I have to do this to save Rose’s family, I will.

I’ll do anything.

I shrug. “It depends if it would change your mind.”

His eyes scan me up and down, assessing my value. Then, he laughs. “You’re hot, but you ain’t worth all that. I’ll take the reward money and buy myself some professional pussy.”

Part of me is relieved, but another part of me is crushed.

What else do I have to offer him besides myself?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

If I’m going to get out of here, it’s not going to be through making a deal with this asshole.

It’s going to be through fighting.

The problem is, my decision to fight affects more than just me. Just like my decision to escape Taras’s mansion got Rose killed, my decision to fight Tommy could get the rest of her family slaughtered in their own home.

I’m not sure if I can live with that kind of guilt.

“That’s what I thought,” Tommy chuckles. “Now sit the fuck there and shut up. This’ll all be over soon.”

He turns his gaze from me to his phone. Picking it up, he dials his friend again. It sounds like it goes straight to voicemail. “Where the fuck are you, man?” he asks. “Have you talked to Zotov yet? I don’t have all night. Hurry the fuck up n’ call me back.”

He drops the phone on his lap and takes a slug of whiskey.

He doesn’t say it, but I can tell he’s growing desperate. Tommy isn’t sure anyone is coming to help him. He’s not sure if he’s going to get his reward or not.

I’m growing desperate, too. But for an entirely different reason.

Ernestine has gone quiet.

Her head is still resting on the table, but her loud, ragged breathing has grown soft and shallow. When June shakes her grandmother’s shoulder, Ernestine doesn’t move. She doesn’t react at all.

Something isn’t right.

“Grandma?” June’s voice cracks as she tries to rouse her guardian. “Can you hear me?”

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