Page 7 of Immaculate Corruption (Romanoff Bratva)

No, we need to run far, far away from here.

I need to put a whole goddamn ocean between Dima and us.

So I dial a number I hoped to never, ever dial again.

When I left Jorik and the Albanians, I cut ties with almost everyone, but that doesn’t mean I lost all of my connections. If there is anything I learned during my time with Jorik, it’s that knowing the right people can quite literally save your life. I made sure I kept the numbers of the right people.

Arnie Fleishman is one of them.

I met him through Jorik, but he always liked me best. Jorik was an asshole until his very last breath and Arnie doesn’t suffer fools.

Arnie doesn’t answer the phone himself, of course. He’d never do that because he’s not stupid, and you never know who’s listening to a call. But when I say the right things to the right people, I get slowly passed from hand to hand until I’m talking with Arnie himself.

His raspy smoker’s voice is unforgettable. “Hello, dear.”

“Hi, Arnie. I—”

“Come see me. We don’t talk on the phone, okay? Not safe.”

Then—click.He hangs up.

Looks like we’re taking a trip to Atlantic City.

* * *

Atlantic City, New Jersey

The boardwalk isn’t as busy as in the summer, but there are a fair amount of people and families enjoying the day, eating funnel cakes and lining up for rides. I walk past all of it and make my way to the striped carnival tent.

Ernestine is watching June and Lukas while I take care of business. I gave her one of my last twenties to buy a hotdog or a funnel cake for the little ones.

The rest of the money I take with me. Arnie’s help will come at a steep price.

Arnie has operated the carnival on the boardwalk for years. Kids love to see the elephants and the trapeze artists. They’ve got clowns, face painters, the whole nine yards. It’s a magical world unto itself.

It’s also a cover for Arnie’s actual business.

During the day, the tent is filled with kids and families. At night, it’s the biggest black market on the Eastern Seaboard.

Anything anyone wants, Arnie can either get it or he knows someone who can. That’s why I memorized his number. For something exactly like this. To help me find a way out of the nightmare we’re trapped in.

When I walk into the tent, I know immediately I came to the right place.

“Arya, sweetheart ,” Arnie greets, his Brooklyn accent thick. “It has been too long. Look at you, you’re gorgeous. Even more beautiful than the last time. I hear you’re a mother now.”

I gawk at him. “How on earth did you hear that?”

He waves me away with a mysterious smile. “I hear everything, love. It is my job.” He surveys me with a careful eye. Then his smile curdles into a frown. “But if you’re here to see me, then things are not good, eh?”

I give him a sad smile. “I’ve been better. I’m sorry it took trouble for me to come see you, though.”

He shakes his head. “Nonsense. I’m glad I haven’t seen you. I hoped you got yourself out of this messy little corner of the world. A good girl like you, you deserve someone better than that slug you were with. He’s dead, did you hear?”

I saw, I want to say.I was there. I watched Dima snuff his life out.

Instead I just nod. “I heard. I’m not surprised.”

“Me neither.” Arnie wrinkles his nose. “He rubbed me the wrong way from the beginning and I’m sure he did other people, too. That’s the thing about this life—you have to be tough, but you have to be likeable, too. Otherwise…” Arnie runs his thumb in a straight line across his neck.

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