Page 9 of Immaculate Deception (Romanoff Bratva)

Adrenaline is coursing through my veins and I don’t have anywhere to put it. I’dliketo put it in Zotov’s head with a fucking bullet.

Or a knife.

Or my bare hands, if that’s what it came down to.

But right now, it seems that’s not an option.

“My table isn’t the one revolting, you know,” Gennady grumbles. He bends down to scoop the spilled potting soil off his carpet. “Christ, that’s the third time this month you’ve made a mess in my apartment.”

“Zotov Stepanov,” I mutter under my breath, ignoring him. “Fucking coward. Fucking traitor. And who’s with him?”

Gennady rattles off a quick list of names as he continues to clean the mess. A few of my key lieutenants and their crews have thrown their weight in with the mutineers. A few others are already dead.

Soon enough, theyallwill be. I’m going scorched earth on anyone who thought betraying me was wise.

“I don’t know why the fuck they thought this was a good idea,” I growl.

“They’re scared,” Gennady suggests.

When I snap my head back around to glare at him, he holds up his hands in surrender.

“It’s not an excuse, obviously. Just an explanation. They’re scared of the recent crackdowns from police and what it means for business. Partnering with the Albanians could lead us—”

“To fucking disaster,” I finish. My top lip curls in disgust. “Beginning and end of story. That’s the only thing that matters. But if you need another, the Albanians would just as soon kidnap and sell your mother or sister off the street and sell her at auction like cattle. Is that what you want? You wanna see your family get bought by some Albanian fucking pig?”

“I’ve been your best friend for a long time, Dima,” Gennady says. His voice is quiet. Almost mournful. “I want the same things you want.”

That makes me take pause.

Scowling, I pace across the room again and take a deep breath. I know Gennady is on my side. We’ve been through hell and back together more times than I can count. He’s one of the few people in my life I trust.

But a lot of the blame for this falls on him.

It was Gennady’s job to watch over Zotov and the other brigadiers. His job to ensure none of them became too powerful. That none of them thirsted for control.

He fucked up. And now he’s trying to fix it.

“Zotov is not a natural-born leader, but he is clever,” Gennady continues. “His plans escaped my notice, which means he’s organized and careful. That counts for something.”

Gennady is right. But it still doesn’t seem like enough reason for me to have to skip town.

“Has he spoken with the Albanians yet?” I demand. “Have they officially struck a deal?”

Gennady shakes his head. “Not yet. And I can assure you that intel is good. Zotov may have convinced the men under him to follow along, but it will be an uphill battle negotiating with the Albanians. They won’t cross you that fast. They know it could be the last thing they do.”

“Fucking right,” I mutter, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides. “I should have pushed back harder the first time they came to us. I should have killed the messenger to make my stance clear.”

“Human trafficking is big business. Men like Zotov will always be tempted by it,” Gennady says.

He’s right, of course. After all the criminal shit the Bratva has done under my leadership, drawing a hard line at human trafficking was tough for my men to comprehend.

They saw dollar signs.

I saw innocent lives being desecrated.

But they don’t need to comprehend a damn thing. They just need to obey.

“Fuck it. I’m going to go talk to him.” I swipe my car keys off the floor and start marching for the door.

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