Page 42 of Immaculate Deception (Romanoff Bratva)

Looks like we aren’t leaving here without spilling some blood.

Gennady grits his teeth and nods begrudgingly. We’re friends always, but I’m the one who calls the shots. In this case, literally.

“Your time is over, Dima,” the leader of the Albanian soldiers says. He’s speaking slowly, enunciating every word. “New leadership has dawned.”

I bark out a laugh, unable to help myself. “Zotov? Are you fucking serious? He’s green as hell. The Bratva will fall apart within the year.”

“Zotov is nothing.”

That makes me do a double-take. I snap my attention to Gennady. He shrugs. Last intelligence we heard said Zotov was leading the rebellion.

If he isn’t in charge…

Who the fuck is?

“Tell me who sent you.” I lean back against the vinyl seat of the booth, the table offering moderate protection.

Whoever these men are, they aren’t trained assassins. If they were, they’d be shooting right now. They’re low-ranking nobodies. Cannon fodder sent on a Hail Mary mission.

“If Zotov didn’t send you, who did?” I repeat.

The mountain man chuckles. “You think that young pup is the only one you’ve pissed off? You think you don’t have any enemies because you’re such a fucking saint? I’m afraid not, Romanoff. You aren’t better than anyone else just because you choose to sin in another way.”

I roll my eyes. “Jesus, enough with the fucking lectures. Are you here to shoot me or bore me to death?”

Gennady’s eyes widen, warning me. I respond by counting down on my fingers.

Three…

Two…

One…

Gennady leaps up, aims, and takes out the skinny man with a single shot. The son of a bitch was exposed, sticking out from behind the half wall. He crumples to the ground like a pile of bones.

Fine by me. The world is better without his kind.

His two comrades are stunned for a moment. But the sound of my gunfire brings them back to the fight.

I blow two more holes through the half-wall before the mountain dives across the welcome mat and flips over a table to use as cover. I fire a few rounds into that, too. They thud uselessly into the wood.

Distantly, I hear screaming coming from the back of the kitchen. I hope the civilians are gone soon. Gennady is going to exit that way when the time is right. If our attackers survive to follow him, everyone back there could be caught in the crossfire.

“Fucking pussies!” Gennady snarls like a war cry, jumping up on the counter and approaching the two guys.

He’s right. That’s exactly what they are. They make me fucking sick.

I had the feeling they were the worst losers the Albanians had to offer, but now I’m positive that’s the case. They don’t know what they’re doing. In fact, I’m not even certain they planned to kill me. Based on how hesitant they are to fire back, it seems to me they were planning to surprise me and lead me out of here at gunpoint.

They didn’t expect me to be ready to fight. They expected a victim. An easy catch.

Dima Romanoff is neither of those things.

“Begi ot syda,Gennady!” I yell, backing towards the side door as I gesture for him to get down. “Go, go!”

Before he can, the mountain man stands up again, his gun trained right at my best friend. I don’t blink as I aim and pull the trigger.

Blood splatters across the window. So much of it that it looks fake. The mountain man stumbles. Totters. Coughs.

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