Page 13 of Immaculate Corruption (Romanoff Bratva)

“Hello, Arya,” Dima Romanoff says as he separates himself from the shadows. “Did you miss me?”

6

Dima

She looks like a fucking angel.

Standing there in the near-darkness, her hair catches what little light there is and her green eyes gleam bright like emeralds. Her skin is as smooth and pale as ever, except for the row of scars along her chin.

She told me she got them when her mother’s meth cooking went wrong, caused an explosion, and brought the roof of the house down on top of them. I wonder how much of that bullshit was true.

But fuck me if I’m not drawn in by her anyway.

She told me lie after lie after lie and I swallowed them all whole. Now, they sit like poison in my gut. Harsh. Scalding.

And yet I can’t resist the temptation to touch her. To claim her. To show her why she’ll always belong to me, no matter how far she tries to run.

I’m addicted to this beautiful fucking liar.

“I asked you a question,” I growl.

She blinks and—slowly, slowly, slowly—raises her eyes up to meet mine. Even though she’s clearly terrified, she’s as defiant as she was the night we met. The night I kicked in the door of her clinic and tore her world to pieces.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she retorts.

I laugh bitterly. “That wasn’t the question I asked.”

“Yeah, well, it’s the answer you’re getting. Leave me alone, Dima. Let me live my life in peace.”

“Is that what you did to me?”

“I didn’t ask for anything that happened!” she snaps. Her voice wavers with choked-up emotion. “Youwere the one who put a gun in my face!Youwere the one who threw me and a newborn baby in a stolen car and headed out for god-knows-where! I was fine before we met! You… you…” She lowers her gaze, quivering with rage now. “…You ruined everything for me.”

I reach out and grab her chin. She flinches at the contact, but she doesn’t run away like I thought she might. She doesn’t want to show weakness, I bet.

Or maybe she’s just feeling the same shit I’ve been feeling since Jorik revealed everything. A mix of fury and temptation that’s drawing me closer and closer to doing some shit I know I will live to regret.

“I haven’t even started ruining you the way I intend to, Aryana,” I snarl.

“Don’t call me that.”

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Itwasmy name. Not anymore. I left all that behind. Just like I left you behind.”

I bark out another laugh. “You didn’t leave shit behind on purpose. You fled because I told you to run for your life. I warned you that I’d be coming for you, didn’t I? That this was just a head start?”

She juts her chin out towards me. “Yeah, so?”

“So,” I say, spreading my hands out wide, “here I am. Where are you going to run now?”

Arya glances over her shoulder, first left, then right. There’s no one in sight. This is the shittiest part of a shitty town, and even if there were people nearby, not a single living soul would be willing to intervene in whatever the hell is happening here between us.

She’s completely and utterly alone.

Trapped with me.

She knows it, too. Her shoulders sag. Her fingers release the bag of Chinese food in her hand and it plops to the cracked pavement beneath our feet. Her head drops down to her chest.

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