Page 127 of Immaculate Deception (Romanoff Bratva)

I whirl around, expecting to see Tommy or his friend here to stop us.

But it’s not Tommy. It’s not his friend, either.

It’s Dima.

I breathe in relief. Of all people in this world who would know what to do in this situation, he’s the one I most wanted to see.

He looks strange, though. Standing in the dying sun, bathed in shadow, fists clenched tight at his side like he’s desperate to break something.

And those eyes—they’re molten lava. Full of rage.

“Dima?” I call. “Dima, we have to go. Something bad has happened. Hurry! I’m not sure how long we have.”

He doesn’t answer.

Just stands there, huge and menacing. Something cold surges in my stomach.

“Dima?”

He crosses the distance between us in two strides.

One huge paw shoots out and seizes me by the throat.

He pins me to the side of Ernestine’s car. With his face right up in mine so it’s all I can see, he looks like an avenging angel.

His voice cracks out, harsh as a whip. “You fucking lied to me,krasavitsa.”

45

Arya

“Cat got your tongue?” Dima drawls when I don’t answer. “That’s surprising. You usually have so much to say. None of it the truth, of course. But still, lots to say.”

I lick my lips and take a deep breath, trying to understand what’s happening. Trying to wrap my head around what I’m seeing.

Whatever reason Dima is like this right now, it isn’t good. I can see that in his eyes.

Whatever love he had for me is buried under betrayal and hatred. It’s almost tangible how much he wants to hurt me.

The question is:How much has he found out?

“What are you talking about?” I croak against the pressure of his hand on my windpipe. The world is getting dark at the edges from lack of oxygen.

But all I can see is the fury in Dima’s eyes.

“I have my ways, Arya. Even without my Bratva, I have my ways. You should know that by now.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying, Dima,” I whimper. “Please let me go.”

We lock eyes, and for a second, I think I see a flicker of something behind his. But then it’s gone.

His gaze bores into me, his forehead creased. “No,” he says grimly, “I don’t think I will. I’m going to choke the fucking truth out of you.”

“What truth?”

My hands scrabbling at his strong wrists are growing weaker and weaker. I don’t have much time left before I pass out.

Dima presses his forehead against mine. I can smell sweat and cedarwood rolling off of him. “You are not my family. Lukas isn’t even my family. That’s the only reason I’m here. To hear you admit it.”

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