Page 59 of Immaculate Corruption (Romanoff Bratva)

The place looks deserted.

Only I know it’s not.

I park my car in the empty lot next door and approach the building from the side. Usually, I’d ask Gennady to get me the building plans or blueprints, but there isn’t time.

I have a handgun in my hand, extra ammo in my pocket, and a bulletproof vest on underneath my shirt. It won’t save me against a headshot, but it will give me a fighting chance against anything else.

With a space this big, there are plenty of exit doors dotting the entire perimeter of the property. I select one that is tucked away between two large shrubs and shaded by a tree. I try the handle, just to see if my luck has turned around, but it’s locked.

So I kneel down and get to work. It’s been years since I’ve picked a lock, but it’s an art you never really unlearn. Like riding a bike.

I slide a pick into the keyhole and shimmy it gently, my ear pressed to the door, tongue between my teeth. It takes a few minutes of working to hear the first tumbler fall.

But as I go, the work gets easier. The tumbles give way faster and faster until finally, I try the handle again.

This time, it turns.

The hallway inside is dark. I stand inside the door for a minute, listening as my eyes adjust. The carpet has been ripped up, revealing the subfloor beneath, and half of the light fixtures on the wall have been ripped out.

I don’t hear any movement inside, but it’s a big building. Giorgio could be anywhere. One step in. Still nothing. I pick up speed, moving down the corridor on silent feet.

When I reach the end of the hallway, I hear a door slam closed.

Someone is close.

The hallway ends in a ‘T’. I can take a left, a right, or, as a third option, walk straight through the door in front of me.

Going left or right will take me down more hallways towards staff rooms, I assume. The door ahead will likely lead into the casino proper. It will also take me closer to where I believe I heard the banging noise.

So, with my gun ready, I slowly push the door in front of me open and move into a massive room.

There are roulette stations and card tables along the edges of the room. Some of them are draped in drop clothes like misshapen ghosts. Chairs are stacked, legs pointed at the ceiling like spikes, and every third light is on, casting the casino in a dim kind of haze.

I keep to the shadows. Delve deeper. Still nothing makes a sound.

Then I spot motion.

I duck down and peek around a table in time to see someone walk casually around the bar and sit down in one of the barstools.

The man seems to struggle to lift himself into the stool, moving slowly. With the light above him turned on, I can see his hair is graying and his hands are shaky around a glass of amber liquid.

It’s Giorgio D’Onofrio.

After weeks of shitty luck, I can’t believe this turn in my fortunes. He’s sitting in front of me, back turned, alone. It seems too good to be true.

I almost stand up, but that thought sticks in my mind.

Itistoo good to be true.

Giorgio isn’t expecting anyone to know he is at this casino, but he wouldn’t be sitting in an empty room alone. A man like him would always have a guard nearby. Especially if he expected to be murdered.

Something is wrong.

Rather than rushing forward to shoot him like I planned, I stay put, frozen with indecision.

Do I take a chance and try to take him out? Or do I leave the way I came?

I’ve been powered on adrenaline and anger for so much of the last twelve hours, and now it’s all gone down the drain. The only thing I can think about is that I’ve made a terrible mistake.

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