Page 50 of Immaculate Corruption (Romanoff Bratva)

He shakes his head in dismay. “I’m not the one who broke the deal, Dima. I asked for a man to be taken out. You killed his son instead. I fail to see where I made a mistake.”

“Because I already killed the first man you wanted dead.”

“We’ve done this before, Dima. We’ve had this argument. I don’t like wasting my time going around in circles.”

“You say that, and yet it feels like we spend a lot of time talking about shit from a decade ago, brother dear.”

Ilyasov turns those dark eyes up at me. “Some things shouldn’t be forgotten.”

I’m getting frustrated already—which I’m sure is the point. Ilyasov has loved holding this power dynamic over my head since the second I waltzed into his office and asked for an army.

I’m very fucking sick of it.

“You asked for Giorgio D’Onofrio’s head. I can still give you that. The deal isn’t dead.”

Ilyasov raises his brows. “Giorgio will be on high alert now. It will be even more difficult to reach him now than it would have been before. I’m not sure you have the resources necessary to carry out a hit like that.”

“No, but you do.” Ilyasov opens his mouth to argue, but I cut him off before he can. “I’m not asking for your army right away. What I am asking for is your help. You have ways of finding out information that I don’t have access to right now. Look into where Giorgio may be hiding.”

He tilts his head back and forth like he’s weighing it. “I could do that.”

“But will you?”

Ilyasov hesitates for a moment. Then a slow smile spreads across his face. “Brother, I already have.”

My heart jumps into my throat. Suddenly, I’m wide awake. “Where is he?”

“Hiding out in one of his New York casinos that’s closed for renovation.”

“Holed up like a fucking rat in a sewer,” I mutter. “How many people are there with him?”

My mind is already moving through the process of figuring out how I’m going to get inside.How many men are on guard? What are the security measures? Can I get to him on my own?

I broke into his inner sanctum once before. Even with extra protection in place, I’m confident I can do it again.

“Not many people know he’s there, even within his own organization. Giorgio doesn’t want anyone turning him over for a softer punishment if the police take them in. Can’t be too careful in our line of work, can you?”

“Hell fucking yes.” I clap my hands and stand up. “This is what we needed. I have to get to him before he moves.”

Ilyasov sighs. “Are you sure this is worth it, Dima?”

“What the hell does that mean?”

He holds up his hands as if in surrender. “I’m just saying… you could die, no? Zotov and the Albanians have driven your Bratva halfway into the ground. Are you sure reclaiming it is worth your life? Wouldn’t it be easier to just start over with your pretty girlfriend upstairs?”

Fuck, how many people are going to ask me that?

I look my brother square in the face, trying to make sure he’ll hear me. “Would you give up your Bratva for anything?”

He doesn’t say anything, but I can see the answer written on his face.

“That’s what I thought,” I say. “You and me, we come from the same family. We were raised by the same father. Whether we want to admit it or not, power and control is important to us. We’d both rather die than let someone steal it from us.”

“You’re not wrong,” Ilyasov admits. “But that doesn’t mean the way we feel is right, either. Maybe it would be better to let it go and live than to die trying.”

I shake my head. “I’d never be able to look in the mirror again if I let people take everything my family has built, everything I’ve built, away from me. I’d be a coward.”

Ilyasov nods and shrugs. “Fine. I figured as much. It’s your funeral.”

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