Chapter 23 Adriana
ADRIANA
“Anya is dead.”
I say it before I really mean to. The words land in the space between us and Bella’s eyes widen, her hands frozen around her coffee cup.
“How do you know?” she asks, her voice low, every bit of her suddenly alert.
I keep my gaze on the swirl of cream in my mug. “An old colleague of mine was quietly tracking her disappearance. He just sent me a message this morning—he got it from a contact at the docks.”
Bella leans forward. “And how did he find out?”
I hesitate, biting my lip, then decide not to lie. “I can’t do this alone, not from up here in Dante’s apartment. I leaked the story to him. He’s the one who got the details out of the police.”
She raises her brow, lips pressed thin. “That’s dangerous, Adriana. Does he know who you’re married to?”
I duck my head, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “I left that part out. I figured being the Bratva wife wouldn’t exactly get me a warm welcome, even from an old friend. I just told him I was worried, that I wanted answers for Anya’s mother.”
Bella lets out a breath, studying me. “You’re playing a risky game, you know that? Once the story’s out, there’s no taking it back. The Volkovs…Dante…they don’t like journalists digging, even less so when it’s this close to home.”
I nod, feeling a tremor in my hands. “I know. But if I don’t do something, who will? That girl’s family deserves the truth. Someone does.”
“Oh my god, I still can’t believe it,” Bella says, her voice trembling. She presses her hands to her face. “And here I was, hoping they would be found. Both of them.”
“I feel terrible,” I say quietly. Guilt twists in my stomach. If I’d moved faster, pushed harder, maybe it would have changed something. Maybe not.
“Does Jules know…?” Bella asks.
I shake my head, the ache behind my eyes building.
“No. She reached out to me a few days ago. She’s worried sick.
But I haven’t told her. I want to see my sister so badly, but—if I do, I might put her in danger.
If anyone is watching me, or if Dante finds out…
” I trail off, unable to finish the thought.
Bella nods, her face soft with understanding. “She’s better off staying away for now. You both are, until things calm down.”
I sigh, staring into my coffee. “Yeah. I thought if I could get Dante on my side, at least for a little while, things would be safer. That was the plan. But now…” I shake my head again. “Now it feels like he’s hiding something from me.”
Bella leans in, her eyes sharp. “What? What is he hiding?”
I lower my voice, even though there’s no one around to overhear.
“I asked him about Portello—Maksim’s club, where Anya and Samie were last seen.
Maksim told me Dante knew all about it, that he even introduced him to Remik, his business partner.
But when I brought it up with Dante, he said he’d never been there. ”
Bella’s brow furrows. “Why would he lie about something like that?”
“That’s what scares me,” I admit. “If it was nothing, he’d just brush it off. But he looked right at me and said he’s never set foot in the place. I could tell he didn’t want to talk about it.”
Bella is quiet for a moment, thinking it over. “We might be reading into it.”
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “It just makes me wonder what else he isn’t saying. I want to trust him, Bella. I need to. But sometimes it feels like every answer I get just leads to more questions.”
Bella reaches over, covering my hand with hers. “You’re not crazy, Adriana. If something doesn’t add up, trust your gut. Don’t let anyone make you feel small for asking.”
I squeeze her fingers, grateful for the comfort, but the knot of unease in my stomach only grows.
Her voice drops to a whisper. “But if Anya’s gone…do you think Samie—” Worry clouds her eyes. “Do you think there might be other girls? Other names we don’t even know about?”
I swallow hard, unable to look away. “I don’t know. But I can’t shake the feeling that Anya and Samie aren’t the only ones. Bella, what if this is bigger than everyone thought? What if the girls people forget about just…disappear, and no one ever finds out?”
Bella’s hand trembles slightly against her mug. “God, Adriana. If that’s true, how do we even start to help?”
I take a deep breath, steadying my hands around my mug. “Alex told me there were cuts on Anya’s body. Someone took their time with her, Bella. Whoever killed her…he’s a sicko.”
Her face goes pale, eyes filling with horror. “God,” she whispers.
“But there’s something else,” I say quickly, wanting to give her some hope. “She died recently. The police think she was only gone a few days before they found her. That means Samie might still be alive.”
Bella nods, gripping the edge of the table. “If there’s even a chance…”
“And I found out about Samie’s boyfriend,” I say, clearing my throat. “He might know something about her disappearance.”
Bella’s eyes widen. “What are you going to do?”
“I need your help,” I say. “I need an alibi. I want to sneak out and meet him. I was thinking we could go out for a movie—something Dante can check, something that makes sense. He won’t let me out alone.”
Bella hesitates, biting her lip. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? That guy could be dangerous. Besides, you’re Dante’s wife now. You know he has enemies in the city. If he finds out you’re lying…”
I look at her, determination in my chest even if my stomach is tight with nerves. “I can’t just do nothing, Bella. Samie could still be alive, and I can’t turn my back on her.”
Bella studies me for a long moment. Finally, she nods, her voice barely above a whisper. “Alright. If you’re sure, I’ll help. But you have to promise me you’ll be careful. And if anything feels wrong, you walk away. Understand?”
I squeeze her hand, gratitude and fear tangled in my chest. “I promise.”
“And Dante, he doesn’t suspect anything?” she asks.
I shake my head. “I keep to myself mostly.”
Bella sets her mug down, curling her legs beneath her on the couch. She studies me for a moment, her voice gentle. “So, what’s really going on between you and Dante? I mean, you two are married, but you barely seem to be in the same room together.”
I stare at the swirling coffee in my cup, trying to find the right words. “It’s…complicated,” I admit, forcing a small smile. “Most days, we’re more like roommates than anything else.”
Bella raises her brows. “Roommates? Really?”
I nod, feeling the flush creep up my neck. “We sleep in the same bed, but that’s about it.”
It’s only half true. The words are barely out of my mouth when flashes of heat pulse through my memory—the way his mouth claimed mine in the dark, the rough way he pressed me against the shower wall, the low sound of his voice when he lost control. I swallow, fighting not to let it show on my face.
I see his hands, large and certain, sliding under my clothes, the slick slide of skin on skin, the way my body answered his before my mind could catch up.
I clear my throat. “It’s better this way. I’m not a part of his world.”
I text Dante about going out for a movie with Bella, making my message sound as casual as possible.
The reply comes quickly: Take Oleg with you. He’ll drive.
No room for argument. I show Bella the message and we both roll our eyes.
Oleg meets us downstairs, already looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. He barely says a word on the drive, just fiddles with his phone and keeps glancing in the rearview mirror as if we’re about to disappear.
The mall is new, all glass walls and gleaming white tile, the kind of place where sunlight seems to bounce off every surface.
There’s a wall of designer stores on one side and a wide central corridor lined with coffee stands, jewelry counters, and clusters of expensive-looking seating.
In the center, a wide atrium opens to an upper floor, where the cinema sits behind a row of neon signs and candy-colored posters.
It’s busy but not packed—families shopping, groups of teenagers clustered around the bubble tea kiosk, the air thick with the smell of buttered popcorn and fresh pastry.
Everything feels glossy and normal, but I can’t help glancing at every face, wondering if anyone is watching us for reasons I can’t see.
Bella heads straight for the ticket counter and buys two tickets together—one for her, one for me—then gets a third, a single seat as far to the opposite side of the theater as possible.
She hands Oleg his stub and flashes him a saccharine smile.
“We figured you’d enjoy your own space,” she says sweetly.
He just grunts, pocketing the ticket.
I take out my phone, my fingers trembling just a little, and stare at Alex’s last message: He’ll be behind the service corridor, next to the alley by the parking lot. Wait for the handoff. Don’t approach until he’s alone.
I swallow and send a quick prayer that I’m not too late or too early.
The exit near the arcade lets me slip through a fire door and into the less friendly part of the mall’s perimeter.
It’s just half a block, but the street turns quickly from well-lit to shadowed, the distant noise of moviegoers fading behind me.
My heart is thudding. The night air is damp, tinged with old fry oil and cigarettes. I almost turn back twice, but then I see them—two men in the mouth of the alley, one of them hunched, face shadowed by a ball cap, the other with a restless edge, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds.
I hang back, watching as the taller man—skinny, wired—hands off a small package, his voice low and urgent. The buyer tucks it into his jacket and vanishes into the street without another word.
My heart pounds so hard I think I might be sick, but I force myself forward. The dealer doesn’t notice me at first, busy shoving his hands into his pockets, scanning for the next threat or opportunity. I step into the alley’s spill of light, voice steady despite my nerves.
“Are you Mik?”
He startles, eyeing me with suspicion, gaze darting from my face to my shoes and back again. For a second, neither of us speaks. Then he spits on the ground, sizing me up.
“Who wants to know?”
I force myself to smile, slipping my phone deeper into my pocket. “A friend recommended you. Said you have the best deals on MDMA.” I let my voice go casual, like I’ve done this before.
That gets his attention. He straightens up a little, some street swagger settling over him. “Yeah? You looking to party tonight, or stocking up?”
“Just a party,” I say, glancing away, letting him think I’m nervous for all the usual reasons. “I heard you’re the guy to see.”
He pulls a small pouch from his jacket, tossing it from hand to hand before offering it out. “First-timer special. You get three tabs for five hundred. You won’t find it cheaper this side of the river.”
I slide the cash across, keeping my smile easy. “A friend said you’re reliable. You helped her out once—Samie, I think? She said you always came through, never shorted anyone.”
He pauses, one eyebrow lifting, thrown for just a split second. The street bravado flickers. “Samie, huh?” He tries to recover, hands tightening around the pouch before handing it over. “She used to run with a lot of crowds. Didn’t know she talked me up.”
I tuck the pouch into my bag, glancing up at him with practiced curiosity. “Yeah, she said you always had the best stuff. Said you even got her out of a jam once at Portello. That club’s got a weird vibe now, doesn’t it?”
He stiffens, gaze darting away for a moment before snapping back. “That place isn’t the same. Too many new faces. Too many problems.”
I lean a little closer, voice light, pretending to be in on some joke. “Sounds like more trouble than it’s worth. Guess I’m lucky I ran into you and not some of those creeps.”
He exhales, the hardness returning to his features. “Yeah, well. Not everyone’s lucky.”
I tuck the pouch into my bag, then look up at him, voice soft. “Did you know she disappeared? Samie, I mean. No one’s seen her in months. Her mother’s terrified.”
His face goes blank for a heartbeat, then shutters over. “People disappear all the time,” he mutters. “That’s not on me.”
I push a little harder, letting the concern in my voice show. “She really trusted you, you know. Said you were one of the only ones who ever helped her out when she needed it. I just thought maybe you’d want to know.”
He narrows his eyes, suspicion flaring. “Are you really Samie’s friend? You don’t sound like you knew her. What’s your name?”
My heart jumps. I know I’ve pushed too far, but I keep my chin up, forcing myself not to back down. “I just want to help. If you know anything—”
He cuts me off, stepping closer, voice low and rough. “You got no idea what you’re messing with. Whatever happened to Samie, it didn’t start with her. There’s people up the chain, people with real power.”
His grip tightens on my arm, his face inches from mine now, eyes wild and desperate.
“Dirt like me? I could never do something like that and get away with it,” he spits.
“You think people like me make girls disappear and no one cares? Ask too many questions and the real people in charge, they’ll make sure you’re gone too. ”
His fingers dig in, panic clawing at the back of my throat. My mind flashes briefly to Remik, to Dante’s world, to all the men who make decisions in the dark.
I act before I can think. I drive my knee up, hard, straight between his legs.
He gasps, curses, and doubles over. I wrench my arm free and bolt, sprinting out of the alley, past a line of dumpsters and into the blurry neon of the mall’s back entrance. My lungs burn, every sound amplified. I round the corner and slam into someone, a solid, unfamiliar chest.
I freeze, terrified. The man steps aside and I stumble past him, ready to scream, but then I see her, standing by the exit, her eyes wide with worry.
I step toward her. “Julianne?”