Chapter 25 - Nikolai
La Fantasia is filled with the usual sounds of revelry this late afternoon, the clink of glasses and laughter blending into a pleasant hum. I'm going over accounts in my private office when my phone rings, the harsh trill cutting through the ambient noise.
"Brother, we have a problem." Dima's voice is tight with tension.
My grip instinctively clenches around the phone. "What is it?"
"Fedor and Anoushka have been kidnapped."
The words hit me like a blow to the chest, rage and fear tangling into a knot in my gut. Anoushka… my child…
"How the fuck did this happen?" I demand, slamming a fist on the desk. The wood cracks under the impact. "Where were her bodyguards? I'm going to have their useless hides for this!"
"They’re dead, Nikolai," Dima says heavily. "I tried checking in with Fedor when your housekeeper called to say Anoushka wasn’t back. When I couldn’t get through to either of them and their bodyguards, I sent more men to the area they reported going shopping in this morning. There, we found cops milling around. All dozen men of ours… shot dead. Not wanting the cops to get involved in Bratva business, we sent in spies as curious bystanders and they learned a man and woman were kidnapped. It’s Fedor and Anoushka, Brother. We're still piecing together the details. I thought you'd want to be informed right away."
Fear stiffens my spine, and my hands and legs shake so hard that I fear I might fall to the ground. Anoushka… my precious wife… what will they do to her? I can't let them hurt her. I need to find her. Now.
But first, I must pull myself together. This is no time to break down. I need to save my wife, my child, and my brother first.
“Set up a control room at your place,” I tell him. “I’ll be with you shortly. Dima?”
“Yes?”
“Stay on top of it,” I command before ending the call.
I shove away from the desk and run out of my office, barely noticing the curious glances I get from the club patrons. My mind is already racing, analyzing the situation and calculating our next moves.
Anoushka and our child are the priority here. I have to get her back, safe and unharmed. And once I do, her kidnappers will learn the fatal cost of daring to touch my family. The Orlov empire will rain down vengeance for this insult.
***
I reach Dima’s and am ushered right in to meet him at the control room he’s set up, his expression grim as he’s surrounded by some of our best men. “We've started looking into the security footage around Anoushka and Fedor's location when they were taken. It looks like a coordinated effort—multiple vehicles boxing the guards in before shooting them down. It looks like they took Fedor first and then noticed Anoushka. Here’s the footage.” He points at the static video, and I lean forward, seeing my wife’s terrified face as she screams and looks around herself before the truck pulls back up and she’s taken.
“So Fedor was taken first?” I ask curtly.
“Yes. We assume that they took Anoushka as extra leverage when they saw her,” one of our men from intelligence chime in.
"Find out who they are and where they've taken them," I order, sitting down on a chair with my chin resting on my thumbs. Dima sits in beside me, already tapping at his phone to reach out to more people who could help us access the network of cameras across the city.
"It's going to take time to trace them through the footage. There are too many blind spots they could use to avoid detection."
Time is the one thing we don't have. The thought of Anoushka in the hands of those bastards makes my blood boil.
"Then find another way," I snarl. "Hack into the traffic control systems if you have to, see if you can spot the pattern in how the routes were disrupted. Put our people on the streets to question witnesses. I want answers, Dima, not excuses."
Dima swallows but meets my gaze unflinchingly. "Understood, Nikolai. I'll get it done."
My phone is already ringing as news spreads through the ranks about the situation. The Zolotov family will be in an uproar if they find out.
I wonder if I should call them first. But I worry that they might begin the hunt on their own, demand I stay out of it. I can’t just sit by and not look for Anoushka.
For now, I decide to keep this hunt as my own.
My team works in silence, their fingers flying over the keyboards of their computers as they slice through firewalls and hack their way into the city's networks.
When one of them finally looks up, there's a grim set to his mouth. "I've accessed the traffic cameras and found the vehicles used in the kidnapping. Two black SUVs, license plates obscured. They split up after leaving the scene, heading in opposite directions."
"And then?" I demand. The dread pooling in my gut threatens to choke me. If we've already lost them—
"One of the SUVs eventually merged onto the highway heading north," he observes. "I was able to track it to a warehouse in the industrial district before the signal cut out. The other vehicle disappeared into a parking garage downtown."
“Show me the images of the warehouse and the parking garage,” I demand.
My men begin to hack into satellite images of the geographical location until a real-time view comes into play.
My heart pounds as the screen switches to show grainy images of the warehouse in the industrial district. My eyes narrow as I take in the details, noting the guards stationed outside, their movements alert and calculated. This wasn't just a random location; it was well-guarded, suggesting importance.
As my gaze shifts to the footage of the parking garage downtown, a flicker of recognition stirs within me. The angle is not ideal, but something about the way the vehicle’s rear window looks triggers a memory. I lean closer, studying the screen intently as if willing it to reveal more.
Then, it hits me like a lightning bolt on a stormy night.
"Dima," I call out sharply, my voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Zoom in on that SUV's back window in the parking garage."
As the image enlarges, my suspicion transforms into a grim realization. The obscured license plate bears a familiar sticker—one that sends shivers down my spine. It's a subtle mark of a golf course with two clubs, and I realize why I recognize it.
"Dima," I say sharply, turning to meet his gaze. "These vehicles… they belong to Demetrius."
Dima's eyes widen in understanding, a flicker of fear crossing his face. Demetrius is a powerful Bratva clan leader known for his ruthlessness and ambition. He’s also a member of the Philadelphia Golfing Club, and I’ve seen this SUV there, often on Sundays.
And suddenly, it all makes sense. Fedor was having an affair with Yelena, Demetrius’s wife.
Dima swears under his breath, his jaw clenched in anger. "Demetrius… that son of a bitch," he mutters, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he tries to gather more information. The pieces of the puzzle start to click into place—the affair, the warning from Anoushka about how dangerous he can be, and the sudden attack on Fedor and Anoushka. It all points back to Demetrius seeking revenge for the betrayal.
My mind races with fury and determination. Demetrius will pay for this insolence, for daring to touch what's mine. Anoushka is my wife, carrying my child, and I will not rest until she's back in my arms, safe and unharmed.
"We need to move fast," I declare, standing up abruptly. “Gather our best men. We’re going to pay Demetrius a visit."
Dima's jaw clenches as the pieces fall into place, his eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation. "We're going to go up against Demetrius?" he asks, his voice taut with tension. “But he could be anywhere. They could have Fedor and Anoushka anywhere, too. There were many vans, Nikolai,” Dima warns.
"Which is why we need to move quickly," I declare, pushing back from the desk with a sense of urgency. Now that I know who has them, I need to do something, anything, to get them back. "If Demetrius has them, I can't risk waiting any longer. We can start from one of these locations and shortlist as we move."
My voice comes out desperate, enraged.
Dima frowns, clearly not emboldened by my urgency. "We have to approach this carefully, Nikolai. Demetrius won't hesitate to use Anoushka and Fedor as leverage against you. He could have them moved around if he senses you’re on their track, and all the progress you’ve made could be for nothing."
I clench my fists at the thought of Anoushka and our unborn child being hurt in the process. I take a few deep breaths and then realize that Dima speaks the truth.
With a heavy sigh, I sit back on my chair and place my head between my hands. “I’m at a loss, Dima,” I say, my voice cracking in a rare show of vulnerability. “I’m so scared for them. For Anoushka and our child.”
“I understand, Brother” Dima says softly, with deep understanding. “I think it’s time we make a phone call first.”
I look up at him and, after a few seconds of silence, put out my hand. Dima looks proud of the decision I made as he hands me my cell phone from the desk I placed it on earlier.
I go through my list until I find the number I need and then press dial.
The phone rings. Once, twice, thrice. My impatience grows only larger, and then, at last, the familiar voice booms through.
“Nikolai?”
“Boris,” I say, dreading the blow I’m about to deliver. “We need all hands on deck, including yours.”
“What happened?” he asks, an alertness to his tone.
"Anoushka and Fedor have been taken, Boris. Their bodyguards were killed, and we've reason to believe this is the work of Demetrius, seeking revenge for an affair Fedor was having with his wife, Yelena."
There is a pause, a silent understanding passing between us. Boris knows what this means, not just for me but for the entire Zolotov family.
"I'll have everyone ready to leave in fifteen minutes," Boris says, his voice steely. “Send me all the facts you have.”