Page 68 of Immaculate Deception (Romanoff Bratva)

My brother places a fist beneath his chin and looks at me, feigning interest. “Is that so?”

“It is. You use the women at your club to make money and impress your guests. Those women use the patrons here to pay their bills. The patrons use the women to help themselves forget about whatever shit is going on in their lives,” I say. “I’m fine with using people—as long as those people are getting something out of the deal as well. What you do, what the Albanians do… there is only one winner. And many, many losers.”

I know Ilyasov doesn’t give a flying fuck about my theory. He sits back in the booth and takes a long drink of whatever the waitress brought us. “And you’re willing to give up your Bratva over those principles?” he asks.

“So youhaveheard what’s going on in New York City, then,” I remark.

“Of course I have,” he snaps. “I may have left the city, but my last name is still Romanoff.”

“Does that mean you’ll help me?”

At that, my brother’s mouth tilts up into a smirk. The rose tattooed on his cheek is lost in his dimple. “See, I like what you said about everyone using everyone else. It’s only fair so long as everyone is getting something out of the deal.”

I bite back a grimace. “You would get a stronger relationship with your brother and protect your family’s name. If the Romanoffs can go down in New York, people may think they can go down in Chicago, too.”

Ilyasov shakes his head. “No offense to you, brother,” he purrs, “but my men are loyal to me. They have been for years. I do not need either of the things you’re offering.”

“Then what do you need, Ilyasov?”

“A favor,” he says with a casual shrug. “I just need you to run an errand for me. Take care of something I’ve been meaning to take care of.”

Anyone else might be fooled by my brother’s tone. But, ten years of estrangement or not, I see the glint in his eyes.

I clench my jaw. “Who do you want me to kill?”

His smirk turns into a full-blown smile. “That’s why I admire you, Dima. You always get straight to the point. No pussy-footing around.”

“I wish you’d do the same.”

The moment for niceties is over. The bargaining chips are on the table. It’s time to negotiate.

Ilyasov’s glare sharpens. “Just a man who has been bothering me. I won’t bore you with the details. Should you accept, I’ll give you the information you need to know.”

“I need to know what he did.”

My brother wags his finger. “No,sobrat,that’s where you’re wrong. You don’t need to know what he did. You just need to do as I say. If you want my help, you’ll help me first. That is the deal.”

I tighten my fist at my side. “If I do this, you’ll lend me an army? As many men and weapons as I need?”

He plants his elbows on the table and leans forward. “If you do this for me, I’ll make sure you take back the Bratva our family built. Whatever it takes.”

I’ve come this far. Ducked bullets. Killed men who would’ve killed me if they could. This is the last hurdle to reclaiming what is mine.

What is one more rotten life snuffed out?

Grudgingly, I hold out my hand to my brother.

And, with that shadow rippling through his eyes once more, Ilyasov clasps our hands together.

A deal with the devil I thought I’d never see again in this world.

22

Arya

Sometime Later—Someplace Else

I’m drowning. That’s what it feels like, anyway.

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