Chapter 34
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
LEO
I can’t sit still. My legs carry me back and forth across the plush carpet of our suite at the Ritz in Moscow. The weight of worry inside me is a leaden anchor, dragging me down. It’s been two days since Alyona and Kira disappeared, and there’s still no sign of them.
Dima tracked their flight route—they were definitely heading for Russia—but as soon as they crossed the border, the trail vanished. It’s no surprise, Belov has the clout to wipe the paperwork clean.
“You need to stop pacing,” Andrei snaps, his attention fixed on his laptop. “It’s distracting. Go outside, take a walk. Get some fresh air. Something.”
I’m about to snap back that I’m trying to be useful, but …
well, am I? I’ve been a snarling animal locked up in a cage while my brothers and Yulian work around the clock to piece together any scraps of information that could give us a clue as to where they are.
But I’m more concerned—no, obsessed—with the why.
Alyona is gorgeous, of good breeding, practically mafia royalty—I know very little of Belov, but I don’t believe he is married. Could he want a wife? Fuck, just the thought has fire ants crawling under my skin. I pick up the closest valuable—a glass vase and smash it into the wall.
It’s official.
I’m losing my shit.
Daniil emerges from the shower, a towel slung around his neck. He whistles when he sees the damage done. “I thought we hid all the breakables?” he shakes his head. “Dude, I’m either going to book you a massage at the hotel spa, or we need to find one of those axe throwing places.”
“Drink. I need a fucking drink,” I grumble, but I’m quite sure Andrei hid all the booze in the room. Either he doesn’t want an angry stumbling giant to deal with, or he doesn’t want me to smash the bottles to pieces.
Yulian, who has been standing by the window watching my outburst with distaste, approaches. “Come with me,” he grumbles, striding past me towards the door.
He leads me down to the hotel bar where, minutes later, we’re side by side, nursing matching scotch whiskys.
Yulian hasn’t said much to me since we learned of the girls’ disappearance, so I’m not sure if this is him calling a truce, or what.
Though he hides it better, he’s as fucked-up as I am.
I can see it in the tense lines of his shoulders, the dark circles beneath his eyes.
“Better?” he asks, as I throw down my first shot of hard alcohol in days. The amber liquid hits the back of my throat with a sharp burn that I welcome before warmth spreads through my body, loosening my limbs.
“It’s a start. I’m gonna need more.” I throw a handful of fancy bar nuts into my mouth. “A lot more.”
Yulian stands up and reaches behind the bar to grab the full bottle of Macallan M. The bartender frowns and opens his mouth to contest, but one look from Yulian and he backs the fuck up. Neck tattoos always send a certain message.
“Well, aren’t we two sacks of useless shit.” Yulian huffs, a smile building. “You more than me.”
An unexpected laugh bursts from my chest. “I deserved that.” I throw back the last of the whisky, the burn igniting my throat, and lower the glass onto the bar with a satisfying thud.
Yulian grunts and tops off my glass before raising his own to his lips.
I snatch up my drink, eyes fixed on the liquid in my glass. “You still planning on killing me?”
He smirks. “Nah, I figured I’d let Alyona have the honor. At least give her first dibs.”
I find myself grinning, although I’m not entirely convinced he’s kidding.
He tilts his head. “When did it start?”
I need another gulp of whisky before we go down that road. This is the bombshell. “The summer you and Andrei were in Russia training. But if I’m going to be honest, it started long before that. Or at least my feelings did.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me? Either one of you.” He shakes his head, his lip curling in annoyance. “If it was real between you two, I deserved to know, didn’t I?”
I run an agitated hand through my hair. “We planned to tell you, but I fucked it up before we could.”
“Fucked up how?” His eyebrows lower, and if I’m not careful, I’m quite sure he’ll take a swing at me.
All the air leaves my lungs in a rush. “You deserve to know the truth—all of you do—but Aly deserves it first.” I just hope I get the chance to tell her everything, explain myself, that it’s not too late for us.
Yulian drags a knuckle over his jaw, studying me as if for the first time. “I never knew you were so adept at keeping secrets, bratan.”
“It’s nothing I’m proud of.” I shrug, running a finger over the scar in my chin. “How should we play this? I know Andrei is all for diplomatic maneuvering, but I say when we have a location, we go in with an army, guns blazing.”
Yulian snorts into his drink. “There are times to be aggressive, but this is not one of those times. This is about being smart.”
I close my eyes for a brief moment, tension gathering in the base of my neck. “I’ll behave. As long as that svoloch hasn’t hurt her or Kira, I’ll be on my best behavior. But if he has, if one hair on either of their heads is out of place, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”
Yulian slams back the rest of his drink, his face lined with tension. “Me neither, bratan. Me neither.”
I don’t know what time we make it back upstairs to the suite, but we’re in rough fucking shape.
I needed this though. A little booze to soften the edges.
As soon as we walk into the room, we’re met with a hive of activity.
Both Andrei and Daniil are talking loudly into their phones, each of them pacing.
Something has changed.
Andrei finishes his call and approaches Yulian and I, both a little worse for wear.
“Looks like you motherfuckers are back just in time. Grab a coffee and shower, you’ll need to sober up.”
“What’s going on?” I bark.
“We have a location for Belov. He owns a secret estate on the Black Sea coast.”
I spring into motion, but Daniil stops me with a hand to my chest. “Where are you rushing off to?”
“Where do you think? We have a location on Belov.”
“Not so fast. First off, you smell like a distillery.” His eyes flick to Yulian. “You too. And second, we have to do this right. Which means coming up with a plan.”
Yulian is practically vibrating with impatience. “We can develop a plan en route. Let’s move.”
Andrei and Daniil exchange a heavy look, one that says there’s more to this story. “You tell them,” Daniil mumbles. “You’re the pakhan.”
Unease creeps under my collar, as Andrei, possibly for the first time in his life, looks just a bit unsure of himself. “We’ve learned Belov is throwing a ball tomorrow night. It’s to introduce the world to his daughter.”
My head snaps up. “I didn’t know he had a daughter.” But then again, Belov only reveals what he wants to the world.
Andrei eyes flick up to the ceiling before landing on Yulian and I. “Alyona is his daughter.”
What!? My jaw drops open, as Yulian rears back like a spooked horse. And just like a spooked horse I’m pretty sure he’s about to bolt, but Andrei presses on. “Dima found the proof. A paternity test.” Andrei’s face softens. “I’m sorry.”
I can’t draw a breath. Everything feels wrong, upended. I look over at Yulian and see the same pain and confusion etched on his features.
Silence descends. A few moments pass before Yulian releases a string of Russian expletives as he storms from the room. Daniil makes a move to go after him, but I stop him with a shake of my head. I had my time to rage, this is his.
I sit down heavily on the couch, my mind churning with everything Andrei’s told us. Alyona is Belov’s daughter? Shit, I don’t even know how to make sense of that. I’m relieved Belov wasn’t hoping for a wife, but also damn confused why he’d abduct her rather than reaching out another way.
But fuck it, there’s only one way to find out. Andrei mentioned that Belov is throwing Alyona a ball tomorrow for all his cronies. That gives me an idea. One I’m sure no one will like, but one I’m convinced could work.