Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Two weeks later, early evening
AXEL
Maksim slid a coffee across my desk toward me. “You ready for your daily update?”
I took a sip of the hot, bitter drink and winced. It had been more than a day and a half since I was last home, and it promised to be a long night ahead. Maksim, my right hand man, was the only reason I was still holding everything together.
“Yeah, go for it.”
He pulled out his notepad. “Okay. In the last twenty four hours, our westside warehouse was broken into. Our men on duty chased them off and they recognized one of the men as Volkov. Three of our trucks were vandalized down at the docks but nothing was stolen. And two of our guys were followed last night, but when they pulled over to confront their pursuers, they drove off.”
Typical bullshit scare tactics from the Volkov family.
So far most of it had been petty stuff, and they hadn’t made any major moves since I’d arrived.
Unfortunately, my murdered predecessor, Demetrius, had not been an organized man.
The business had been in shambles, and I had spent the last month busting my ass to manage all the obvious vulnerabilities in the current operation.
I knew it was only a matter of time before the Volkovs became more aggressive, so I was working overtime to get us in a good defensive position.
“One other thing. This was delivered by courier a few minutes ago.”
It was a large envelope with my name handwritten on it.
I tipped it open and emptied the contents on my desk.
There had to be over three dozen surveillance photos.
All of them were of Mila. Walking down the street.
Walking alone on the beach. Coming out of the same three cafés on multiple occasions, carrying a single takeout bag.
Shopping alone at department stores. Entering our home, alone.
Receiving meal delivery at our front door. Alone.
I stood there, silent, while my mind raced in circles. Heat flooded my gut, and I couldn’t move while the rage washed over me.
“Boss?”
Someone had been intensely surveilling my young wife.
My heart pounded hard.
Mila.
They had been following her for weeks, while I had left her home alone.
I clamped my fingers around the edge of the table.
She looked so alone in these photos. So vulnerable.
Shame made me clench my jaw to the point of pain.
“Boss, how do you want me to handle this?”
Maksim’s question burned off my paralyzing emotions and snapped me into action. I needed to secure her safety.
I moved with speed to dial her number.
No answer. I texted her.
Me: Call me
No response.
“I’m leaving,” I told Maksim, as I gathered up all the photos and put them back in the envelope.
“I thought you had a meeting tonight over on the east dock?”
“Rebook it. Tell them an emergency has come up.”
“Boss, what can I do?” he called after me, as I walked toward the door.
“I’ll call you.”
I called Mila repeatedly while I sped home, but she never picked up. The house was completely dark on the inside when I let myself in.
“Mila?” I yelled as I walked through the house, turning on lights as I went. I ran upstairs to her room. To my room. Looking for any signs of struggle.
Nothing.
Down in the kitchen, there were no signs that either of us even lived in the house. I found one lone takeout container in the fridge and a single bottle of iced tea.
I was starting to feel real stress. How long had she been missing? I started searching, but I didn’t even know what to look for. I realized that I had no clue who Mila was, what her habits were, or if it was normal that she wasn’t home at this time of night.
What if they had her? What if the men who had taken those photos had her in their possession right now?
The thought of her suffering alone brought up so many dark emotions I was nearly blinded by them. I would eliminate anyone responsible for harming her. They would never recover. I would personally destroy anyone who laid a finger on her.
I called Maksim. “We’ve got a situation.”
“Talk to me, boss.”
At that moment, I heard the front door open. I watched, stunned, as Mila let herself in, carrying a knapsack on her back.
“False alarm,” I managed to say before hanging up.
Mila stopped short in the large front foyer when she noticed me standing in the hallway.
“Oh, hi.” Mila hesitated. “You’re home early.”
She was home and safe in front of me, but my fear was still there, burning and simmering below the surface, threatening to boil over. I had to work to push it down.
My words sounded unfairly angry. “Where the hell have you been?”
She looked baffled. “What’s going on?”
“I phoned you multiple times.”
She frowned and pulled out her phone. “I guess I had it on silent.”
Who in their right mind leaves their phone on silent?
My voice was terse. “Why would you do that?”
Her eyes were wide. “Because no one calls me.”
Her reasonable excuse only inflamed my annoyance. “I came home and you were gone. You never left a note. You never let me know where you were going.”
I couldn’t seem to stop myself from blaming her for something that wasn’t her fault.
For scaring me.
Her tone was more than salty. “Excuse me? I’ve barely seen you since we arrived in Canada. The only sign I know you’re alive is that there is sometimes a coffee mug in the sink. Why would I leave a note about where I was going when I know I’ll come home and be the only one who reads it?”
I hated that she was being more logical than me, so I switched gears, my tone still accusatory. “What’s in the bag?”
She heaved her knapsack on the counter and started unpacking.
I watched in silence as she pulled out a carton of oat milk, a box of cereal, some yogurt and a banana.
“What the hell is that?”
“The café was closed tonight. So I walked to the gas station.”
I frowned. “Which gas station?”
“The one at the bottom of the road.”
I didn’t believe her. “That has to take at least half an hour.”
“I can do it in twenty.”
I looked around the kitchen that had barely been used since we’d moved in. “What happened to your bank card?”
“I still have it.”
“Why are you walking to a gas station to buy food? Why not order takeout or some groceries?” I turned and looked at her.
“Why haven’t you ordered groceries?” she asked quietly, as she poured herself a bowl of cereal.
“I’m never here.”
She looked at me in exasperation. “So why do you care if I order groceries or not?”
“Just answer the question.”
She put her milk and yogurt into the fridge. “I don’t know how to cook.”
My tone was biting. “You could have mentioned that.”
She looked at me, confused. “What’s going on? Why do you care if I can cook?”
I needed to handle one problem at a time. I took the envelope and spilled the photos onto the granite countertop.
She frowned as she stepped forward. Then she picked one up. “These are all of me.” She looked up at me with accusation in her eyes. “Are you spying on me?”
“Tonight, someone anonymously sent those to my office by courier.”
She looked more curious than afraid. “Who?”
I didn’t want to discuss this part of the business with her, but I needed her to understand the seriousness of this situation. “Someone who’s interested in showing me my vulnerability.”
She thought about that. “Are you saying I’m your vulnerability?”
I shut that down immediately. My tone instantly cooled. “I’m assigning a crew to watch over you.”
“No!” she protested without hesitation.
“It’s not a request.”
“I’m not going to be under your control. I refuse to be followed around by one of your goons so he can report back to you.”
“They’ll only be there for your safety.”
“I don’t want it.”
I couldn’t seem to control the edge in my voice. “It’s not an option. I’m making the decision.”
She rolled her eyes. “If you think I’m going to be controlled by you, you can think again.”
“I don’t want to control you.” I didn’t even try to hide my exasperation. “I want to protect you.”
That stopped her. “I don’t want to live like this.”
“I’m just trying to keep you alive.”
“This is no way to live.”
“Unfortunately, right now, it’s your only option.”
She grabbed her bowl and a banana and started to head up the stairs.
“Where are you going?”
“To my room.”
For some reason I didn’t understand, the fact that her dinner was cereal in a dark house pissed me off further.
I think I was angry at myself, but I found myself taking it out on her. “You need to learn to cook, you know.”
She stopped on the stairs and slowly turned around. “Excuse me?”
“I’m not saying it because you’re a woman. Cooking is a life skill.”
“Oh, yeah?” she lifted her chin. “How many meals have you cooked since we moved in?”
The truth annoyed me. “I’ve obviously been working.”
“Well, since you have this awesome life skill that I seem to be missing, maybe you should come home for dinner and teach me how to do it.”
I didn’t know how to cook and we both knew it. “Point taken.”
She studied me with a perplexed expression. “If you want me to learn to cook, I will. But why do you care if you’re never home to eat it? Besides, I find meals lonely by myself.”
She was taking this conversation to a place I didn’t want to go. I felt my anger drain out of me. “My comment was uncalled for.”
“I don’t want security,” she tried again.
“I know,” I admitted. “But it’s nonnegotiable.”
“Love that for me.” And then she quietly disappeared into her room with her cereal.
After a couple of hours of working from home, I got a text.
Giselle: Can we meet? 10 pm at Golden Lotus restaurant. Important
I was loath to leave Mila on her own, especially so late at night. I tapped on her door, which was slightly ajar, but there was no answer.