Page 57 of Immaculate Corruption (Romanoff Bratva)

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Arnie leans forward and points the knife at me. Then he seems to realize what he’s doing all at once and drops it on his cluttered desk, pointing with his finger instead. “You are asking me to hide the child of the don of the Romanoff Bratva. You don’t think that’s information I needed to know?”

Oh, shit.I bite my lip. “…You didn’t ask.”

He barks out a humorless laugh. “Little lady, I’ve survived to this ripe old age because I stay out of people’s shit. But keeping a don from his child, his heir, is not staying out of shit. It’s diving headfirst into it.”

“Dima knows I’m here,” I argue. “I’m not sneaking away. I told him that I planned to get new documents and leave the country. You aren’t doing anything sneaky.”

Arnie presses his thin lips together. “I don’t like this. Not one bit. When I thought I was doing you a favor, sure, it was fine. But now? Shit, Arya. I don’t want to get myself in hot water. Especially since I’m doing this for free. Some risks are worth the reward, but what’s the reward here?”

“It’s not for free. You told me you underpaid me when I sold you the engagement ring. You said this made you even.”

He tips his head to the side, eyes sad. “I exaggerated. It didn’t quite cover the costs, but I figured there was no harm. But now? People are looking for you, girl. Powerful people. Powerful people who, if they find out I helped you, will come to me looking for you.”

“And you won’t know anything! It was just a business deal as far as you knew. That’s what you say.”

I can feel this slipping away from me. I don’t know how to get it back. The cash I snuck from Dima’s stash is dangerously low. I gave a lot of it to Ernestine to take care of Lukas, spent a good portion of the rest on the rental car, and now I have enough for maybe a movie ticket in my back pocket.

Point is, I’m broke and desperate. Desperate enough to do anything to make sure this deal goes through.

“I wish it was that simple. But I don’t think the kinds of people after you are going to listen to my explanations. If I don’t have the information they want, the show is over. Forever.” He slides his thumb across his neck to emphasize his point.

“I didn’t tell Dima where I was going to get the passports. He doesn’t know your name or where you work. How would anyone find out?”

“How does anyone find out anything?” he counters, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Arya, but—”

Before he can finish, I lunge forward and grab the pocket knife from where it lays on the table. I hold it out, point pressed against Arnie’s neck.

I hate this. Hate doing this. Hate being this person.

But desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess.

His eyes bulge and he swallows several times, his skin brushing against the point of the blade.

“Arnie, please don’t make me do something I don’t want to do.”

“That knife isn’t sharp enough for any real damage.”

“You’re right. It’s so dull that it won’t slice your neck, but where I’m pointing the blade? That’s your carotid artery. The blade is dull, but all I need is the point of this knife and one good thrust. You’ll bleed out in less than a minute.”

A shiver moves through Arnie. I make sure to keep my knife pointed exactly where it needs to be.

“Then just don’t do it,” he growls. “Kill me now or kill me later, I’m dead all the same. Either you kill me to get your documents or I get killed because I gave them to you. There’s no difference.”

If I felt at all that Arnie was right, I’d consider walking out and finding another way.

But I know Dima won’t come for him. And no one else would be that desperate to find me that they’d hunt him down.

Once I’m gone and out of Dima’s life, Zotov won’t care about me anymore. Arnie will be safe and well. So if I have to hold a knife to his neck to get what I want, then so be it.

“You aren’t going to die, Arnie. Neither now nor later—unless you go back on our deal. If you do, I’ll kill you and search through every piece of paper in this office until I find what I’m looking for.”

Arnie narrows his eyes at me, sizing me up. “You’re a nice girl. You wouldn’t do it.”

I press the point a bit harder against his neck, my knuckles white from gripping the handle so tight. “Do you know how many nice girls have done horrible things to protect their children? I’m not a nice girl right now, Arnie. I’m a desperate mother to a baby boy who needs me. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

My voice sounds unrecognizable to my own ears. I see the shift in Arnie’s posture. The way he sits up a bit higher and leans further back in his seat.

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