Page 24 of Immaculate Deception (Romanoff Bratva)

Of course that fuckingmudakwould be the first person to jump ship and join under Zotov’s rule. He’s a coward and a sneak. Useful in the right moments, but never worthy of respect. He wouldn’t hesitate for a second to assault a young single mother in search of me.

And that has to be what they’re doing here today. There’s no other reason they’d be bothering Arya except that they somehow tracked me to her car and then tracked us both to the hospital.

Right now, she and my son are in danger—because of me.

I have to fix it.

I turn my attention back to the nurse. “Listen to me very closely. The man in there is not my boss. And whatever the fuck he’s doing there, it’s not good. So, if you want to make this right, I need you to help me get the woman and baby in there to safety. Am I understood?”

She nods, her entire body shaking. “O—okay.”

Not exactly confidence-inspiring.

I add, “He will kill her if you fuck this up. And the baby. Maybe you, too. Do you understand that? You need to get them out or I’ll have to shoot up this whole fucking hospital.” I pull up my shirt to reveal the gun at my hip.

The woman’s eyes bulge out of their sockets. Her trembling worsens. I’m about ready to lock her in a closet out of the way and go with Plan B—shoot first, ask questions later.

But then she stills suddenly. A hard, steely glint comes over her eyes.

“No one is killing a baby on my ward,” she says icily.

I nod in satisfaction. That’s much better. “Good. Listen to me. You need to—"

I start to lay out a rough plan, but she holds up a hand. “I’ve got this. You just get a wheelchair and be ready to run.”

I’m not used to taking orders. Especially not from women I could break in half with one hand. But I like the fire in her face. It reminds me of Arya’s, as a matter of fact.

We hold eye contact for a moment longer before I nod and step away to find a wheelchair. The woman disappears behind the desk. A second later, I hear a flurry of beeps and alarms coming from Arya’s room. Muffled voices inside raise up in confusion.

I race back around a corner and grab a wheelchair I find folded up in a closet. Meanwhile, the red-headed nurse picks up a stethoscope and sprints into the room ahead of me.

“Something is wrong with the baby!” she shouts. “Everyone—out. The baby. The baby!”

I stay crouched behind a pillar with just a sliver of the room visible to me. Fyodor’s pale brow wrinkles and he starts jabbering in Russian with his idiot stooges. I can’t hear well enough to make out what he’s saying, but the confusion is obvious enough.

“What’s wrong with my baby?” comes another voice.

Arya.I recognize her voice. Clear as day.If I had any doubt before, it’s long gone now.

She is the woman from the vet clinic that night.

She’s the one.

“Where are you taking him?” she says. Her nervousness rising and rising.

“You can’t walk yet,” the nurse says. “If you could, I’d tell you to come with me, but—”

“I can walk!”

More machines begin beeping. More men’s voices argue back and forth.

And a moment later, the nurse comes out pushing the baby’s bassinet. Arya struggles along behind her. Her face is red and tear-stained. Bruises are already forming high on her cheek.

My teeth clench tight.Those bastards hit her.

They dared to touch the mother of my child.

I barely know a thing about this woman, but I know this—I’ll fucking slaughter Fyodor, his men, and anyone else who lays a hand on her.

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