Page 43 of Immaculate Deception (Romanoff Bratva)

And finally, he falls to the ground. His bulk smashing into the floor makes the whole restaurant shake.

Coming to his senses once again, Gennady pivots and unloads a full clip at the last man standing, the leader who spoke up first. It’s a full few seconds of semi-automatic hellfire.

Then a final Albanian body hits the tiled floor.

Three men came for us.

Three men died.

When Gennady is done, silence drops over the room. All I can hear is a clock on the wall.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

I let out a sigh. It’s over—for now.

Gennady jumps down from the counter and curses again. “Fucking pussies.”

“They had no clue what they were doing.”

He nods in agreement and then looks at me, taking a deep breath. “Albanians.”

“I know.”

The leader claimed he wasn’t sent by Zotov and that he had intelligence we didn’t know about. But I can’t help but think this all had something to do with that fucking usurper.

Maybe Zotov partnered with the Albanians already. Gennady didn’t think they would join his ranks so soon after his mutiny and at first, I’d agreed. The Albanians are a well-established group in the city. They don’t need to partner with an upstart new kid and his ragtag team of traitors. They would wait until he was clearly established. Until he had something to offer them.

Unless, of course, he alreadydoeshave something to offer them. Something I don’t know about.

“I have to get to the motel. Arya is still there. She doesn’t know—”

Gennady waves me away. “Go. I’m headed back to the city now.”

“Keep your eyes open and call me when you figure out what in the fuck is going on.”

“Roger that.”

Briefly, we clasp hands and shake. Then we separate.

I hop inside Arya’s car and fly down the road towards the motel, checking my rearview mirror every few seconds to be sure no one is following me.

If the Albanians didn’t follow Gennady, then how did they know where I was?

Someone had to know. I can’t fucking stand that I haven’t figured out where the weak link lies.

Something’s digging into my thigh. I reach into my pocket and fish it out. When I realize what is, my stomach drops.

It’s the pager that’s synced up to the alarm I left on the motel room door. And thirty minutes ago, it sent me an alert.

MOTION DETECTED.

Thirty minutes ago was before the gunmen even showed up at the diner.

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