Chapter 21 Daniil
DANIIL
The silence inside the estate is wrong the moment I step through the doors.
My men shift uneasily in the foyer, their eyes darting away from mine, and that alone makes my chest constrict.
I scan the hall, searching for her. Naomi should be here.
Her scent should linger. But the air is empty and sterile, a void that grips me in its jaws.
The grandfather clock in the corner ticks steadily, each second hammering against my skull. My shoes echo against the marble as I move deeper into the house, the sound bouncing off walls that should hold her laughter, her arguments, and her presence. Instead, they mock me with emptiness.
“Where is she?” My voice pierces the silence. No one answers. The hesitation is their mistake. My rage surges, demanding a target.
Igor clears his throat. “Pakhan, we've been searching since—”
“Since when?” I turn on him, watching him flinch under my stare. “Since you noticed she was gone? Since you realized you failed to protect what belongs to me?”
His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. “Since this morning. We checked her usual spots, the garden, the library—”
“Her usual spots.” The words burn in my mouth. “You mean the places I allow her to go. The boundaries I set.”
I storm past them and throw open the doors to her suite.
Empty. The bed lies untouched, her clothes still hanging in the closet, as if she vanished into thin air.
My pulse hammers as I tear through every room, the library, the dining hall, and the study.
Nothing. Each vacant space deepens the hollowness tearing through my chest.
Lex is already in the security room when I slam the door open. “Footage. Now.”
His fingers fly across the keyboard, pulling up camera feeds.
We scrub through hours of recordings. She doesn't appear once after breakfast. One moment she exists, the next she is gone. It makes no sense. There is no image of her leaving, and no sign of intrusion. It’s as if the earth swallowed her whole.
“Show me breakfast,” I command, leaning over his shoulder.
The screen flickers to life, revealing Naomi at the small table in her suite.
She moves with her usual grace, lifting the coffee cup to her lips, glancing toward the window.
Nothing about her demeanor suggests flight.
No nervous energy, and no furtive glances toward the camera.
“Here,” Lex points to the timestamp. “Eight forty-seven. She finishes eating and leaves the tray on the table.”
“And then?” I grip the back of his chair, my fingers digging in.
“Nothing. She doesn't appear on any feed after this moment.” His voice carries the confusion I feel. “Not in the hallways, not in the common areas, not near any exit.”
I study her face on the frozen screen. She’s calm.
But I know her now and the subtle tells that reveal her thoughts.
The slight tightness around her eyes when she's planning something.
The way her fingers drum against her thigh when she's nervous.
I see none of those signs, which only deepens the mystery.
My fury ignites, an inferno tearing through every nerve. “Find out who. Tear apart every second of the last twenty-four hours. If anyone tampered with my systems and let her walk out of here unnoticed, I will gut them myself.”
“Pakhan,” Maksim’s voice carries a note of caution I rarely hear from him. “What if she didn’t walk out? What if someone took her?”
The question roots me to the floor. In my rage, I assumed betrayal. I assumed Naomi orchestrated her own escape. But what if she didn’t? What if, while I was away handling business, someone infiltrated the fortress I thought impenetrable and stole the one thing I cannot lose?
The possibility drags me into a darkness far more dangerous than fury. I storm out, every step fueled by the fire consuming me. “Lex. Maksim. With me.”
The two men fall in without question, their weapons checked and ready. They know what this means. We don't call for backup. Viktor is the only name in my head, and the only answer that makes sense. He's behind this. He's the only one reckless enough to take what belongs to me.
The drive to his estate is a haze of headlights and rage.
Lex’s hands grip the steering wheel with unyielding focus, the engine growling as he pushes the SUV harder down the dark road.
Beside him, I sit rigidly, wrath simmering beneath my skin, while behind us, Maksim readies his weapons, checking magazines and testing silencers.
They understand the stakes as well as I do.
The gates loom ahead, iron and arrogance, until Lex slams the SUV straight through them. Metal screams as it bends under the force. Viktor’s men rush to intercept us, weapons raised, but they're too slow and complacent.
Maksim is out of the car before it even stops moving, a feral whirlwind tearing through the nearest guard with his fists. Blood sprays across the pristine gravel driveway, painting abstract patterns that will be the last thing these men ever see.
I move with purpose, my gun steady, my aim unerring.
The first guard who raises his weapon at me takes a bullet between the eyes before he can pull the trigger.
The second tries to run, which only prolongs his suffering.
I put him down with a shot to the back, watching him crawl a few feet before finishing the job.
Glass shatters as I drag one of Viktor's men through a window, the shards slicing into both our skin as we hit the floor. He's young, maybe twenty-five, with the soft look of a man who's never faced real violence.
Lex covers my flank, his shots finding targets with deadly aim. Maksim's growl echoes through the hall as he leaves another body writhing on the ground, the man's screams cutting off abruptly as a blade finds his throat.
I pin my target against the wall, the barrel of my gun pressing into the hollow beneath his jaw. “Where is she?”
His eyes are wide, his lips trembling. Tears streak down his cheeks, mixing with the blood from various cuts. “I don't know—”
I squeeze the trigger just enough to let the click echo in his skull. His breath staggers, his body convulsing. The smell of urine fills the air as his bladder releases. “Say that again, and it will be your last breath.”
“I swear,” he gasps, “I haven't seen her. Viktor hasn't brought anyone here.”
“Then where is he?” I growl.
The man swallows hard. I can see him considering his options, loyalty against survival, duty against the very real possibility of death.
Finally, the words spill out. “He's not here.
He went north to a remote property. Old hunting cabin.
He took a small crew and told us to hold down the fort.
He's been planning something big, but he didn't tell us what.”
“When did he leave?” I demand pressing the gun harder against his throat.
“Two days ago,” he squeaks out. “Please, I'm telling you everything I know.”
“This cabin. Where is it exactly?”
“Up near the Adirondacks. Old logging territory. I don't have an exact location.” The words tumble out in a desperate rush. “He bragged about it being off the grid, completely isolated.”
I release him only to slam him back against the wall, my fist cracking across his cheekbone. He crumples unconsciously before he hits the ground.
Lex steps forward, calm as ever, but his voice is edged. “If Viktor is at that cabin, we'll root him out.”
Maksim cleans his blade with a slow swipe against his pants. “And when we do, he'll beg for mercy he won't get.”
“Search the house,” I order. “Make sure she's not here. Check every room, every closet, every basement corner. If there's even a trace of her presence, I want to know about it.”
While they work, I pace through Viktor's ostentatious home, noting the expensive artwork, the imported furniture, the obvious displays of wealth meant to intimidate and impress. It all reeks of new money and someone trying too hard to prove himself worthy of respect he hasn't earned.
In his study, I rifle through papers, looking for anything that might give me more information.
Bank statements, property deeds, correspondence with other families.
Most of it is routine business, but tucked in the bottom drawer, I find something interesting: architectural plans for a compound in the mountains, complete with security specifications and supply lists.
Back at the mansion, my men are waiting. Roman meets me at the door, his expression stern, but steady. “Any sign?”
“Viktor is hiding at a remote location,” I tell him. “We’ll find it.”
Roman nods. “What do you need?”
I pace the length of the study, the map spread across the table. My finger jabs at every property, every route, and name tied to him. “Sweep them all. Every contact. Every safehouse. I want his movements tracked before nightfall.”
“The Adirondacks are a big area,” Roman points out. “It could take days to search every cabin and hunting lodge.”
“Then we narrow it down.” I pull out my phone, scrolling through contacts.
Lex nods sharply. “I'll spearhead it myself. Roman will cover the outer territories with Maksim.”
“Activate the networks,” I order. “Informants, brokers, street rats. If they've heard even a whisper, I want it reported to me. Tonight.”
The men disperse, their orders clear. The estate fills with motion, radios crackling, engines roaring to life beyond the gates.
Phone calls are made to contacts throughout the region, favors are called in, and debts are collected.
Within an hour, my entire organization is mobilized, focused on a single objective: finding Naomi.
But inside me, the fire doesn't calm down.
Nothing will ease it, not until I see her and hold her again.
Hours bleed together. Reports trickle in from various sources.
A gas station attendant remembers a convoy of black SUVs heading north two days ago.
A local sheriff mentions increased activity around some of the old logging roads.
Each piece of information is catalogued, analyzed, and added to the growing picture of Viktor's movements.
I retreat to the one place I swore I would never let myself linger, the locked room. The shrine. Sasha's scent still lingers faintly here, trapped in paint and canvas, in old fabric and memories I can't destroy. My hand drags across the frame of her last painting as I lower myself into a chair.
The canvas shows a woman dancing, her hair flowing behind her as she spins.
Sasha always loved to dance. She would put on music and move through our house like she was floating.
I study her frozen form, remembering the way she would laugh when she caught me watching, and how she would pull me into her arms and try to teach me her steps.
The walls close in, the past angling its blade against my throat. Sasha was stolen from me, her body torn apart in an explosion. And now Naomi. If Viktor has touched her, if he has laid even a finger on her, I will burn the world down until there is nothing left but ash.
The parallels are too painful to ignore. Sasha was taken because of my enemies' need for revenge. Naomi was taken because of my enemies' need for power. Both women paying the price for being connected to me, for existing in my orbit of violence and darkness.
From the ashes of grief, a vow rises like a phoenix, burning and eternal. Naomi isn’t just mine. She is the line no man crosses and lives.