Chapter 23 - Maksim #2
Every contact we reach provides another piece of the puzzle.
The Serpents have been more active lately, moving operations around the city like they’re preparing for something big.
Money has been flowing through their accounts in unusual patterns.
Personnel have been relocated to new positions without clear explanations.
“They’re planning something,” Dmitri muses. “This isn’t just about grabbing Alyssa. They’re using her as a distraction while they set up some larger operation.”
“Or they’re trying to draw us into a trap,” Grigor counters. “Use our concern for her to lure us into vulnerable positions.”
“Either way, we need to find her tonight,” I declare. “Every minute she spends with that bastard is too long. That ends tonight.”
By evening, we have narrowed the possibilities to four locations, all within a three-mile radius. My brothers coordinate assignments while I clean my weapons and prepare for whatever we might find tomorrow.
“We start at dawn,” I announce as the family meeting winds down. “Rotating surveillance on all four sites until we get eyes on the target.”
“And then?” Nikolai asks.
“Then we bring her home.”
Sleep proves impossible. I lie in bed staring at the ceiling, imagining all the ways Troy might be hurting her, all the manipulation tactics he’s probably using.
The memory of her face during that phone call in the garden haunts me—the fear in her voice, the way she kept looking over her shoulder like she expected an attack at any moment.
Tomorrow, I’ll get her back. Tomorrow, I’ll prove that I can be the man she needs instead of another source of control in her life. Tomorrow, I’ll show her that trusting me was the right choice, even when I’ve given her every reason to doubt it.
Dawn brings fog that clings to the harbor like smoke, providing perfect cover for our surveillance operation.
I take the first position at warehouse complex C, a massive facility that matches Diane’s description of her prison.
Grigor and Dmitri station themselves at two other locations while Aleksei coordinates from a mobile command center.
The waiting becomes torture. Every minute that passes without contact feels like an eternity. My earpiece crackles with periodic updates from my brothers—negative sightings, false alarms, and the steady drumbeat of failure that makes my nerves feel like exposed wires.
Two hours into the surveillance, Akim’s voice crackles through my earpiece with news that makes my entire body tense up.
“Got eyes on the target at location D. But Maksim… you’re not going to like what I’m seeing.”
“Report.”
“She’s not restrained. Not imprisoned. She’s walking around freely, and she… she looks happy.”
“What do you mean, happy?”
“I mean, she’s laughing with Troy, holding his hand, acting like there’s nowhere in the world she’d rather be. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were on a romantic getaway.”
No. That doesn’t make sense.
“Keep watching,” I instruct. “There’s more to this than what it looks like.”
“Are you sure? Because from here, it looks like she changed her mind about wanting to be rescued.”
I close my eyes and remember every story she told me about Troy’s manipulation tactics. How he made her feel crazy for having reasonable boundaries. How he twisted her compassion into compliance. How he used emotional warfare to maintain control.
Of course, she’s acting happy. It’s a survival mechanism. Keep him satisfied, keep him distracted, wait for an opportunity to escape or fight back. The performance is probably costing her everything she has.
“I’m moving to your location,” I tell Akim. “Maintain surveillance but don’t engage.”
“Copy that.”
By the time I reach Akim’s position, my jaw aches from clenching my teeth.
“Third floor, northeast corner,” he reports, handing me binoculars. “They’ve been up there for about an hour.”
I focus the lenses on the indicated window and feel my heart stop. There she is—my beautiful, brave, stubborn kitten—sitting across from the man who’s terrorized her for months. She’s smiling at something he said, nodding like she’s genuinely interested in his conversation.
But I know her well enough to see the truth beneath the performance. The way she holds her shoulders is too straight. The slight stiffness in her posture speaks to hypervigilance. The fact that she keeps her hands visible on the table between them instead of relaxing them in her lap.
She’s not happy. She’s terrified and playing the role of her life to stay alive.
“I’m going in,” I announce.
“Maksim, that’s not the plan—”
“The plan just changed.”
I study the building layout while Akim coordinates with our other teams. The structure is old but well-maintained, with multiple entry points and clear sightlines from the street. Getting inside won’t be the problem; getting to Alyssa without alerting Troy will be the challenge.
“Give me fifteen minutes to get into position,” I tell my brother. “If you don’t hear from me by then, bring everyone.”
“Copy.”
The service entrance proves unlocked, probably because Troy’s arrogance convinced him no one would find this location. I move through the building using skills learned from decades in this business to traverse the corridors without detection.
The sound of Alyssa’s laugh drifts through the walls, and each note cuts through me like broken glass. She shouldn’t have to perform happiness for a monster. She shouldn’t have to pretend affection for the man who pointed a gun at her chest.
I reach the third floor and position myself near the stairwell, waiting for the right moment to make contact.
Through a crack in the door, I can hear their conversation—Troy pontificating about some business deal while Alyssa provides encouraging responses that sound genuine unless you know what to listen for.
The opportunity comes when Troy excuses himself to make a phone call. I wait until his footsteps fade down the hallway, then slip into the room where Alyssa sits alone at a small table.
She looks up as I enter, and the shock on her face is quickly replaced by something that looks like panic.
“Maksim,” she breathes, rising from her chair so fast it nearly topples over. “What are you doing here?”
“Rescuing you,” I reply simply as I rush closer to assess her condition. No visible injuries, no obvious signs of abuse, but the hollowness in her eyes tells a different story.
“You can’t be here,” she insists, glancing toward the door where Troy disappeared. “If he finds you—”
“He won’t. My brothers have the building surrounded.”
“No, you don’t understand. He’ll kill you the moment he sees you.”
The concern in her voice, the genuine fear for my safety despite everything she’s enduring, reminds me exactly why I fell for this woman. Even in captivity, even while playing the most difficult role of her life, she’s more worried about protecting me than herself.
“Let me worry about Troy,” I tell her as I reach for her hand. “Right now, I need to get you out of here.”
“I can’t leave.”
“What do you mean, you can’t leave?” I ask with a scoff.
“I mean I won’t leave. Not yet.”
“Alyssa, whatever game you think you’re playing—”
“It’s not a game.” She steps closer and lowers her voice to barely above a whisper. “Maksim, Troy isn’t just running drugs and weapons through the Serpents. They’re trafficking children.”
I blink at her a few times, sure I’ve misheard. “What?”
“I overheard a phone conversation this morning. They have kids, Maksim. Young kids that they’re moving through the city like cargo. I can’t walk away knowing that’s happening.”
“So we call the authorities—”
“With what evidence? A conversation I overheard while pretending to be here willingly? They’ll disappear the moment law enforcement gets involved.”
I let out a long breath and ask, “What are you proposing?”
“I stay long enough to gather real evidence. Locations, names, documentation that can’t be dismissed or covered up.” She glances toward the door again, checking for Troy’s return. “Then we take down the entire operation.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Maksim—”
“You’re not staying in this situation one more minute than necessary. It’s too dangerous.”
“Children are being sold into slavery,” she hisses. “Their danger trumps mine.”
The conviction in her voice, the willingness to sacrifice her own safety for strangers, is exactly what I should have expected from her.
This is who Alyssa is—the woman who jumped off shipping containers to help my employees, who learned to fight to protect herself, and who sacrificed her freedom to save Diane.
And this is my moment to prove I can be the man she needs instead of another person trying to control her choices.
“How long?” I ask, hating every word.
“What?”
“How long do you need to gather evidence?”
“Two days. Maybe three.”
“Two,” I counter. “And I stay close enough to extract you if things go bad.”
“You can’t. If Troy suspects—”
“He won’t suspect anything because you’re going to keep playing your role perfectly. But I won’t leave you alone here.”
“Maksim, this is insane. If something happens to you because of my choices—”
“Nothing will happen to me. And when this is over, we take Troy and his entire organization apart piece by piece.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“I’m sure about you.”
The ghost of a smile crosses her face. “That’s not exactly a ringing endorsement.”
“It’s the truth. You’re the strongest person I know, and I trust your judgment.”
Footsteps in the hallway signal Troy’s return. Without thinking, I cup her face in my hands and kiss her, pouring every ounce of love and faith and promise into it. She melts against me for just a moment, letting me feel how much she’s missed this connection.
“Two days,” I whisper against her lips.
“Two days,” she agrees.
I slip back toward the door, pausing only long enough to memorize the sight of her straightening her clothes and preparing to resume her performance. In forty-eight hours, this nightmare will be over.
And then I’m taking her home where she belongs.