Chapter 49
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Dimitri
SAVINA HAS BEEN taken. They took her from us. From me.
We’re all gathered in Mr. Cipriano’s office. I can barely contain my anger as Savina’s father takes his sweet ass time reading over the ransom note that was delivered this morning.
“It’s the fucking Irish,” he grumbles as he reads over it again, silently this time. “I knew I should have had more security at the rehearsal dinner. We were too vulnerable, too exposed.”
I grab the envelope, checking for anything her father might have missed. And that’s when a Polaroid picture falls from the envelope, cascading to the floor in a dramatic, twirling fall. It reminds me of when I secretly watched Savina in her ballet classes.
Everything is in slow motion as I reach down and grab the picture.
And then it’s like my entire world comes to a halting, grinding stop.
In the photo, Savina is tied to a chair, her left cheek appearing swollen and bruised.
She looks taken off-guard by the flash of the camera, her red-rimmed, glassy eyes wide with fear.
My father snatches the picture out of my hand, and it takes everything in me not to grab it back from him and knock him the fuck out for even possessing her in such a vulnerable state. He passes it around the room until it eventually gets to her father.
Mr. Cipriano’s face turns sickly white as he stares down at his daughter. “We need to form a team. I have a contact. A retired FBI agent. Let me give him a call and see —.”
“And how long will that take?” I snap out impatiently.
“Dimitri,” my father warns.
“No.” I’m done being their dog and just laying down when they command me to.
“You started this fight. You wanted this war with the Irish, and this is the result of your reckless actions,” I tell her father.
“I’m not going to let another hour or, hell, even another minute pass before I go looking for Savina,” I growl out.
“They want twenty million dollars,” her father says with a shake of his head.
“Then pay them!” It’s not like he doesn’t have the fucking money.
My father clears his throat beside me. “You know we never pay the ransoms, Dimitri. It sends a message.”
“What message? That you’re willing to do anything for the safety of your loved ones?” My hands curl into fists at my side. “You should be sending out a fucking army to find her!” I roar.
Savina’s father stands and slams his fists down on his desk. “You’ll learn to bite your tongue in my presence and show me some fucking respect, figlio di puttana!”
My father’s hands are fisted in my shirt a moment later, hauling me out of the room.
“You can’t talk to Mr. Cipriano like that!
” he hollers once we’re alone in the hall.
Then, lowering his voice, he adds, “I don’t know why you’re so invested in this.
It’s not like she’s your fiancé. Pavel didn’t even speak one word crossly to her father. ”
“Because Pavel doesn’t love her!” I blurt out, my chest rapidly rising and falling with my ragged breaths.
My father pauses. His brows furrow as he absorbs my words, and then he slowly asks, “And…you do?”
His question has my blood drumming in my ears.
Do I love Savina? The answer comes way easier than I thought it would.
Yes. Yes, I love her. I fucking love her.
I love her more than I’ve ever loved another human being.
More than I thought I would ever be capable of.
I loved her from the moment I met her. I just didn’t know it then.
A world without her in it doesn’t seem like one worth living in.
And the thought of never seeing her again absolutely guts me.
It feels like my entire world is crumbling down around me.
I can’t breathe without knowing she’s here with me.
Even if she’s not mine, even if she’s never mine, I want her to be safe and live a beautiful life, with or without me.
And if that’s not love…then I don’t know what is.
When I finally answer with an emphatic nod, my father groans and runs a hand over his face. “Fuck,” he whispers.
“Yeah. Fuck,” I agree.
“Alright. Tell me your plan then,” my father suggests.
I stare at him, wondering if he’s serious.
Would he really go behind Mr. Cipriano’s back to help me find Savina?
But when he shows no sign of backing down or changing his mind, I tell him the plan that’s been forming in my head for the past several minutes.
“We need to get our hands on the surveillance video in the neighborhood and get a description of who the kidnappers are. The make and model of the vehicle could be tracked to find out where they took her. Even knowing the vicinity within a few miles is better than not knowing anything. It will be like finding a needle in a haystack without some kind of intel on the vehicle or men. Perhaps we could even get facial recognition from the footage, if they didn’t have masks on. ”
He gives me a solemn nod. “I know someone I can call who might be able to help us with all of that.”
“Do it. Every second counts,” I tell him earnestly.
When we find Savina, I will kill the men that took her. They will be begging for their gods to save them, and my face will be the last thing they see before I send them straight to hell.