Page 125 of Immaculate Corruption (Romanoff Bratva)

“As soon as possible. I’m thirty minutes from the airport.”

“I’ll call you right back.” He hangs up the phone. I sit on the floor next to the bed for a moment, trying to quell the shaking in my hands.

Then I get up and start to pack.

* * *

Arnie calls me back and gives me the details for the flight. “It leaves in four hours. One-way trip.”

I thank him for his help. He tells me not to mention it.

“Never mention it,” he snaps. “And as far as favors go, you are fresh out, girl. I’m happy to take you on as a customer, but I’m not going to cross Dima Romanoff again.”

“That makes two of us,” I murmur.

We hang up. I pack a few outfits for Luka and a few things of my own. And that’s it.

I’m ready to go.

Most of my stuff is still hanging in the closet, but it won’t take Dima long to realize we’re gone. He is an observant man. As soon as he gets back to the house and comes in here to talk, he’ll know what’s going on and he’ll come looking for us.

By the time that happens, I intend to disappear.

46

Dima

I’ve been pacing in this godforsaken warehouse for what feels like miles. My thoughts are ping-ponging back and forth, back and forth.

This is wrong.This is necessary.

This is immoral.This is justice.

And the whole time, in the other room, I can hear Vera thrashing and wailing.

The question remains: What the hell am I going to do with her?

“I can’t believe we’re fucking doing this,” Gennady mumbles for the tenth time since he arrived. “This is fucking crazy.”

I whirl around and scowl at him. “I’m doing what’s right for my Bratva. For my family.”

“It’s not you, Dima,” he whispers in a hoarse rasp.

“I didn’t ask for your fucking input, Gennady,” I snarl.

He sighs and stands. “I’m going to go check on her,” he says. He starts to stride away towards the door separating us from the cramped little room where Vera is chained and gagged while I decide who to sell her to.

But just before he opens the door, he pauses. He starts to speak, but he doesn’t look back at me. “Dima, when we first met all those years ago, do you know why I followed you? Do you know why I was your friend before I was your ally?”

I don’t answer. It’s a trap question. He’s playing fucking games with me, just like Arya does.

“Because you were a good man,” he says, answering his own question. “A good man in a bad world. Now… well, I don’t know what you are anymore. But worse than that, I don’t think you know what you are. For your sake and for the sake of everyone around you, I hope you figure it out soon.”

Then, before I can answer, he opens the door and slips inside. I hear chains clanking as he no doubt tries to make our prisoner comfortable.

I should tell him it’s a waste of his fucking empathy. She’s as bad as anyone in this whole goddamn underworld. She helped steal my son. She’s bearing Ilyasov’s spawn, helping him unleash more of himself on all of his enemies.

She deserves this.

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