Chapter 14 Aleksander
ALEKSANDER
This is it.
I don’t knock. I press my palm to the door and immediately feel it—the wood is splintered, the frame loose. The lock has been busted clean through, the chain hanging broken, screws wrenched out of the molding.
The place is a mess—chairs knocked over, the bedroom door hanging off its hinges, a lamp shattered on the floor. I spot a pink sneaker wedged under the couch. My chest goes cold.
“Fuck.” I sweep the living room, then the kitchen, heart thundering. There’s no sign of Bella. No sign of Lily. Just the raw, static charge of something gone wrong.
My chest feels tight. I scan the living room, then the kitchen. “Bella!” I call, voice low but desperate. “Lily!”
Nothing. Just the echo of my own voice.
I step into the bedroom. Sheets torn, a child’s blanket on the floor. The closet door half open, boxes inside overturned. I’m too late. I press my fist against the wall, biting back a roar.
Footsteps thunder down the hall behind us.
Nikolai wheels around, gun half-drawn, but I see her first—a young woman, wild-eyed and breathless, clutching her bag like a weapon.
She stops dead in the doorway when she sees us. “What did you do to them?” she gasps, voice rising. “Where are they? Did you hurt them? If you hurt them—”
“Stop.” My voice is rough, but not unkind. I put the gun away and raise both hands.
Her eyes narrow, scanning my face, flicking from me to Nikolai and back again. “Where are they? Why are you here? Who are you?”
My chest tightens. “I’m here because I’m trying to find her. Someone else got to them first.”
Maya shakes her head, jaw clenched. “I don’t believe you.”
“I would never hurt Bella. Never.”
Her eyes are huge, darting between me and Nikolai. “You—you’re him. You’re the guy from the airport, from—” She stops herself, looks me up and down, and I see it click. “You’re Aleksander.”
I nod once. “Yes.”
Maya’s breathing is shaky, furious, terrified. “What did you do? She was safe with me—she was fine—then you show up and now the place looks like a crime scene. Who are you? What did you drag her into?”
I move closer, careful, hands still visible. “Maya, listen to me. I’m here because she’s not safe. Not from me—from everyone else. I was trying to find her before they did.”
She shakes her head, voice trembling. “Who? Who the hell are you people?”
Nikolai cuts in, blunt. “We’re not the ones who did this. Someone else got here first.”
I see the realization dawn in her face—horror, confusion, fear. “Are they dead?” she whispers.
“No,” I say, fierce and certain, because I have to believe it. “They’re not dead. Bella’s too smart for that. But someone wanted her—wanted both of them—enough to break down your door and take them.”
She wipes a tear with the back of her hand. “If you ever cared about her, you’ll find her. And if you don’t, I swear to God I’ll—”
“I care,” I say, letting her see the truth in my face. “More than you know.” I step closer, keeping my voice low, urgent. “Listen to me. Did you see anyone before you left? Did anyone call or threaten her?”
Tears slip down her cheeks. She shakes her head. “No, I didn’t—she was scared, but she said it was you she was running from—she was trying to keep Lily safe—”
“I know,” I say, jaw tight. “But whoever took her, they’re not keeping her safe. I’m the only one who can.”
She meets my eyes, searching for something she can trust. “If you hurt her—”
I cut her off. “I would never. I swear it.”
Behind me, Nikolai is moving through the rooms, careful, methodical. He gives me a look—a silent question. Next steps?
I squeeze the bridge of my nose, trying to think, to breathe. My fear is a live wire under my skin. I was too slow. I let her down. But I’m not giving up. Not now.
I look back at Maya, my voice raw. “Tell me everything you know. Anyone who might’ve known she was here. Any name, any detail. We don’t have much time.”
Maya nods, swallowing hard, finally realizing I’m not leaving without answers.
Nikolai moves past us, scanning the hallway, checking angles. He says nothing, but I can feel him listening.
Maya takes a step back like she wants to run and then freezes because running does nothing. Her hands shake as she fumbles for her phone.
“Bella,” she says into the screen, like saying her name will make her appear. She tries to call. It rings once, then goes to voicemail.
Maya makes a sound in her throat. Not quite a sob. Something harsher.
She whirls on me. “And you think you can just fix this? You show up with a gun and your bodyguard and your…your whatever you are, and you think that makes it better?”
I take a step toward her. “I’m not here to scare you. I’m here because Bella and Lily are gone.”
Maya’s eyes flash. “You don’t get to say her name like you have a right.”
I stop. I swallow the anger because it’s wasted on her.
“You’re right,” I say. “I don’t. But I do need you to think. Bella called you. She came here because she trusts you. So someone knew she was here, or someone found her. Either way, we have minutes, not hours.”
Maya’s chest rises and falls like she’s fighting for air. She looks around the apartment again, like she expects to hear Lily’s little voice from the couch.
Then she looks back at me, and something cracks.
“This is your fault,” she blurts, and it comes out too fast, too raw, like it slips past her brain. “If you hadn’t shown up again, if you hadn’t dragged her back into your mess, if you hadn’t scared her on that plane, if you hadn’t been you, she wouldn’t be running with your kid.”
The hallway goes silent.
I feel like the floor tilts.
My kid.
For a second, I’m not sure I heard her right.
Maya’s eyes widen the moment the words leave her mouth. Her hand flies up to cover it, too late. She looks horrified with herself.
I stare at her. “What did you just say?”
She shakes her head, frantic. “I didn’t mean, I mean I did, but I didn’t, I’m sorry, I’m just panicking, I’m not thinking.”
My voice comes out low and dangerous. “Maya.”
She squeezes her eyes shut. “Lily is your daughter.”
The words hit harder than a fist.
I stand there, frozen, while my brain tries to reject it and fails. Images snap into place like a lock turning.
Lily in the diner, pressing a sticker onto my sleeve. Lily’s face when she looked up at me like she knew me. That one word she said, bright and innocent.
Papa.
I feel sick. I feel hot. I feel like I could tear the building apart with my hands.
Maya is crying now, shaking. “Bella never wanted you to know. She never wanted anyone to know. She was trying to keep her safe. She was trying to keep herself safe. And then you came back and everything went insane.”
I can barely hear her over the sound of my pulse.
I stare at the wrecked doorway and it’s like I’m seeing it through a different lens now.
They didn’t just take Bella.
They took my daughter.
My hands curl into fists. I force them open again because if I don’t, I’ll put my knuckles through the wall.
Nikolai comes back into view at the end of the hall, his expression tighter than before. He’s heard everything. He doesn’t comment. He just gives me a small nod that says we move now.
Maya chokes out, “Don’t you dare look at me like that. I didn’t want this. She didn’t want this.”
My voice is steady, but it takes effort. “I’m not angry that you kept her secret.”
Maya blinks, startled.
“I’m angry that someone took them,” I say. “And I’m angry I wasn’t here first.”
Her face crumples. “If you hurt her,” she whispers. “If you use this to trap her, to take Lily from her, I swear to God I’ll—”
“You don’t have to threaten me,” I cut in. “Listen to me. I would never hurt Bella. And I’m not taking Lily away from her mother.”
Maya looks like she doesn’t believe anything anymore.
I step closer, just enough that she has to focus on me. “But I am going to get them back. Do you understand?”
She nods slowly, tears sliding down her face.
“Good,” I say. “Now tell me everything. Every detail. If she has family. If there’s anyone in this city she would run to besides you.”
Maya swallows hard. “Bella doesn’t have anyone else.”
I hold her gaze. “Then we find who took her.”
Nikolai’s voice cuts in, calm and clipped. “We should assume it wasn’t random.”
My stomach turns.
Maya whispers, almost to herself, “What kind of people break into an apartment in broad daylight for a woman and a toddler?”
I answer without softness. “The kind of people who know exactly what they’re doing.”