Chapter 9
Alexei
I’m hardly inside my office before I have Marko by the throat against the door. He’s a head taller than me and twice as wide, but he doesn’t move a muscle as I hold the shattered remains of a security report in my free hand, the paper crinkling under the pressure of my grip.
“Explain it to me, Marko,” I say, my voice dropping to a whisper that feels heavier than a shout. “Tell me how a woman vanishes from her own home in the middle of this city, and my men don’t realize she’s missing until the mail starts piling up against her door.”
Marko’s face turns a deep, bruised shade of red as he struggles to pull air into his lungs, but he keeps his hands at his sides.
“The cameras at the intersection were down for maintenance on Monday, Pakhan. We didn’t get the feedback until an hour ago. We thought she was just staying inside.”
“You thought she was staying inside?” I tighten my grip, the wood of the door creaking behind his head as I lean into him. “You saw her walk out of this building after being turned away by my security, and then you just stopped looking?”
“We didn’t see the car, Alexei,” he gasps, using my name in a desperate attempt to ground the conversation. “The blind spot… the Georgians knew where to wait. We had no reason to suspect she’d been taken until Dato’s men started bragging at the docks this morning.”
I shove him back against the wood and let him go, watching as he slumps forward and coughs, his hand moving instinctively to the raw skin of his throat.
I walk past him and sit behind my desk, the silence of the office feeling thick and suffocating as I pull up the private monitor that shows her empty apartment.
I stare at the screen for a long moment, watching the static of the feed, before I pick up the crystal decanter and pour a drink I have no intention of finishing.
“Get out,” I say, not even looking up as I reach for the phone that has started to vibrate against the mahogany surface. “If you aren’t back in ten minutes with the names of every man who was on shift Monday night, don’t bother coming back at all.”
Marko doesn’t wait to be told twice. He scrambles out of the room just as I swipe the screen to answer the call.
“Romanov,” Dato’s voice slithers through the speaker, sounding far too cheerful for a man who has just signed his own death warrant. “I was wondering when you’d notice she was gone.”
“Where is she?”
“Straight to the point as always,” Dato laughs. “You really are as cold as they say, aren’t you?”
“Where. Is. She.”
“Safe, for now,” Dato says, his tone shifting into something more conversational. “I have to say, she’s been delightful company. That mouth on her and the things she says… I can see why you’re so attached to her.”
I grip the phone until the plastic groans, my eyes fixed on the empty chair across from my desk where she sat only a week ago.
“If you’ve touched her, Dato, I will cut out your tongue before I kill you.”
“Touched her? Me?” He lets out a sharp, brittle laugh. “I’m a gentleman, Romanov. I would never force myself on a woman. Although I have to admit, the temptation is considerable. She’s quite beautiful when she’s scared. Those big eyes. That trembling lip.”
“Finish that sentence, and you won’t live long enough to see tomorrow,” I say, the words coming out as a cold promise.
There’s a pause on the other end of the line.
“There it is,” Dato says. “I wasn’t sure at first if she actually meant something to you or if she was just another pretty distraction, but that reaction tells me everything I need to know. You’re obsessed.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to know what it feels like to lose something you actually value,” Dato replies. “You butchered my brother over a shipment that was already yours. You carved up the future of my family and sent him back to me in separate bags like he was nothing more than trash.”
“He was trash,” I correct him. “He tried to steal from me, Dato. I don’t negotiate with thieves.”
“And now you are going to learn what it feels like when the person you care about is the one being dismantled,” Dato counters. “I’m sending you a little proof of life, so you know I’m not bluffing.”
The phone buzzes. I pull it away to look at the screen. It’s Zoya. She looks pale but defiant. Dato’s hand tangled in her hair. The crystal glass in my hand shatters. Whiskey mixes with blood on my desk.
“She looks healthy,” I say coldly. “Keep her that way.”
“Meet me tonight at nine in the old textile factory outside Khimki,” Dato says. “Come alone, or the girl dies.”
“You’ll have your snipers in the rafters,” I reply. “I’ll have mine on the perimeter. We meet in the center.”
“Nine PM then.”
The line goes dead.
“Viktor,” I say.
The door opens. “Pakhan.”
“Get the men ready. If anyone points a weapon at my woman, they die.”
“And Dato?”
“I want him alive.”
“What about her? If things go wrong…”
“If Zoya’s not back to me exactly as she was, I’ll unleash Armageddon.”