Page 98 of Immaculate Corruption (Romanoff Bratva)

All that shit must be on Arya’s mind, as well.

“What’s the next stage?” she asks, sitting up and turning towards me. “What happens when we land?”

“I have to kill or corrupt a police officer.”

Her eyes widen. “You can’t kill a police officer.”

“Then I’ll have to corrupt one,” I say. “Or find one bad enough that he’s earned his death.”

She chews on her lower lip. I know she doesn’t like the idea. I already have more blood on my hands than she’s comfortable with. And if my guess is right, there will be a lot more before these Trials are over.

Ilyasov will make sure of that.

* * *

We land at LaGuardia well after it’s dark, but Gennady is waiting for us out front with a car. He goes gaga the second he sees Lukas.

“He’s so cute. Is this the first time I’m meeting him? Oh my God, it is. Hello, I’m Uncle Gennady.”

“Have you heard anything from Ilyasov while we were gone? Has he made any moves?”

Gennady’s smile falters and he tips his head towards the car. “I’ll explain on the road.”

I frown, but we all make our way into our seats. “What happened?” I ask when everyone is settled.

“I think Ilyasov met with some of your men.”

“My men?” I ask, not fully comprehending what he said.

He nods. “Some of the inner circle sat down and listened to him. I wasn’t invited, but—”

“Is this a fucking joke?”

“It was to satiate him. To make him think he had their ear,” Gennady says. “That’s what Eduard told me.”

I shake my head. “It was to make sure they can seamlessly transition to his leadership if I fail. Fucking traitors. Fucking cowards. Fucking—”

Gennady nods. “I get it. We have to keep our plans close to the vest. I don’t think any of them are actively betraying you—they don’t want to upset either you or Ilyasov—but still, it’s best that they not know any more than they have to. Whatever you need, I’ll help you.”

I clap a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you,sobrat.”

My phone buzzes when I switch it on from airplane mode. And again. And again. Message after message after message from members of the Bratva, all with the same link.

I click it.

“Fuck!” I skim the headline and then read the article out loud to Gennady.

“‘Two officers with the New York Police Department were found gunned down and left for dead in their patrol car. There is no apparent motive for the shooting. The officers were on break, eating their lunch when the attack occurred. Names of the victims have not been released and the dashcam footage from the car is still under review. The only evidence released to the press at the time of print is the number ‘2’ painted on the hood of the car in blue spray paint. Anyone with any information should contact the NYPD or the tip line—”

I trail off.

“That was him? Ilyasov killed two cops?” Arya asks.

I wish I could hide this from her. I wish I could give her just a few hours of bliss with our son. But in my life, a few minutes is all you get. Sometimes, not even that long.

“Yes. Ilyasov completed the second trial. He killed two officers today.”

Her green eyes fill with worry. “What are you going to do?”

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