Page 94 of Immaculate Deception (Romanoff Bratva)

My blood chills in my vein. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears.

Ba-boom.

Ba-boom.

“You’re fucking kidding.”

“I wish,” he snorts. “This bastard says I cannot touch her for six weeks.Six weeks. I told him, ‘Go fuck your mother!’ But he says I can kill her if I do it wrong. Bah!”

“So what did you do?”

“I waited! What else can I do? No point in spoiling a good whore after one fuck, am I right?”

“A man should be able to take what’s his, though,” the second man scowls.

“Yes, he should. Yes, he should, indeed. It was torture, but I waited. And you know what tonight was?”

I hear the second man chuckle. “Six weeks, eh?”

“Six fucking weeks,” agrees the man who’s been talking the most. “Tonight, I intended to crack her open like a goddamn egg.”

They both laugh together—until the bragging man’s voice grows somber again. “But I should have known it would not work. Women… So fragile.”

“So you did not get to bed her?” inquires the other.

“If I had a fresh whore to fuck, you think I would be in a goddamn bathroom snorting cocaine off the counter with your ugly ass?” he jeers.

Both of them bust up in hysterics at that. Laughing like fucking hyenas.

But I feel like I have ice in my veins.

They’re talking about Arya.

It has to be her. Today is six weeks since she has given birth. What are the odds it’s someone else?

Both of the men snort another line. Then the first one speaks again. “Christ, even laughing hurts. I chased this bitch around the room and she fucking kicked me in the balls. You believe that? I will ache for days.”

“Black and blue balls are not so funny, are they, Taras? I’m sure you taught her a lesson.”

“I did not have the energy for it. I had the other girl brought in instead. I’ll get back to breaking the new bitch after all this mess in New York has finished.”

I hiss an inward breath. I’m boiling with rage. The thought of this fucking pig laying a single finger on Arya makes me want to slit his throat and bleed him dry.

But the thought of her kicking him in the balls makes the corner of my mouth twitch up in the slightest of smiles.

As if I needed any more proof that the girl this monster bought was the mother of my son.

My next step is clear, though. I’m going to find where this son of a bitch lives.

And then I’m going to burn his world to ashes.

While I wait for the two men to clear out of the bathroom, I’m running through plans in my head, trying to figure out who will have the information I need and how I’m going to tear this “Taras” a new asshole.

I’m so lost in thought I don’t notice the man on the floor beginning to wake up.

The first time I realize something is wrong is when the fat bastard lifts his fist and pounds weakly on the stall door.

I bite back a curse and grab his arm, pinning it behind his back. But it’s too late. The laughter outside the stall dies at once.

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