Page 127 of Immaculate Corruption (Romanoff Bratva)

I nod. “I don’t think she’s in any position to run away right now.”

Even in the midst of her pain, Vera finds the energy to glare up at me. The second her hands are untied, she rips the gag out of her mouth.

“You son of a fucking bitch!” she screams, her anger transitioning into another contraction. “What did you expect to happen kidnapping a pregnant woman? Take me to a hospital!”

“No.”

Her eyes widen in horror. “Are you serious? I’m giving birthhere? Dima, are you out of your fucking mind?”

Gennady has gone white with the stress and from the force of Vera’s grip on his hand. He’s helping her to the floor, and she is squeezing his knuckles so tightly I’m sure she’s going to break something.

“You can’t do this to me,” she cries. “And my babies. What about my babies?”

“What about my baby?” I snarl. “Where was your empathy then?”

Gennady pats her hand and looks up at me, clearly losing his shit. “When is the doctor getting here?”

“Soon,” I mutter. “Hopefully, soon enough.”

We suffer through ten more minutes of Vera’s contractions and screams before the rusted out front door opens.

Lauren’s voice echoes through the space. “Hello?” She steps into the warehouse timidly, looking around in confusion. When she spots me, she stops walking. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”

“It’s a long story, but—”

Before I can finish, Vera lets out a cry. Lauren sprints across the room and drops to her knees next to the prone woman. Then she looks back up at me, mouth hanging open. “What is happening?”

“She’s having a baby. Two, actually.”

She stutters over her next words. “Why—here?—she should… Fuck, she needs a doctor! A hospital!”

“You’re a doctor,” I remind her.

“A pediatrician!” she shouts. “I’m not an OB.”

“I’m having twins,” Vera says, grabbing Lauren’s arm and pulling her close. “My water broke and I’m having twins. I can feel them coming.”

“There’s no time to get to the hospital. You need to help her.”

Lauren growls in frustration, but I can tell she’s scared, too. “You could have driven her in the time it took me to drive here. Or called an ambulance. What is really going on?”

Those questions will have to wait. Vera’s cries are intensifying.

The rusted hinges on the front door squeal again and Sacha comes running in. When he sees the very pregnant woman on the floor, he stops short and then curses under his breath.

“Bloody hell, Dima. I’ve seen a lot of shit. But this is too much.”

As if to punctuate the point, Vera throws her head back and lets out a loud scream that echoes off the cobweb-covered rafters.

“Start working,” I order coldly. “You’re running out of time.”

47

Dima

Somehow, it works.

Lauren and Sacha may not be OBs, but they know how to deliver babies. Gennady and I stand off to the side while they toil, comforting Vera while instructing her when to breathe and when to push.

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