23. Maxim
23
MAXIM
A s I strode down the hall to check in with the newest hire at this property, my phone rang. Again.
I sighed, hating these constant interruptions. While I’d been focusing on finding and keeping Nadia, I hadn’t been on call as much as I usually was.
It seemed that everything was falling apart in my absence.
“What, Yusef?” I tried not to let too much of my impatience bleed into my tone, but it was difficult.
I wanted the peace of speaking with this security supervisor and knowing that he’d heard it from me to remain alert more than usual. I wouldn’t take risks with Nadia’s safety, and until Alek could give me the go-ahead to kill Lev Avilov, I would stay cautious.
Leaving her like that, on the bed and so playful, I was extra eager to return to her and enjoy her with another hard fuck.
“Something’s been going on with Nik’s phone, too,” Yusef reported. “We didn’t have a chance to talk about it earlier, but he just contacted me again now with concerns.”
Fuck. I was the one who managed all the technology, but there had to be others who could step up too. Finding hackers was a whole issue in and of itself, but I planned to approach Alek and suggest we deepen and further develop our crew for cyber security.
“I’ll look into it when I am back. In the meantime, have him use an alternative phone.”
“Got it.”
I disconnected the call just as I reached the office where the new security supervisor worked. He was watching the surveillance feed as I entered, but he promptly lifted his face from the screen and addressed me.
He didn’t give me any bad vibes. Listening, nodding along, and repeating the facts that I emphasized, he seemed on top of things and ready to do as instructed. I left him shortly, pleased with that warm feeling of knowing things were in good hands here. I hated the suspicious feeling of someone not being reliable, and it was with my head held high and excitement flooding my veins that I ran back up to the penthouse where Nadia waited for me on the bed.
I hated being stuck on the phone, but it was a good reminder that this wasn’t a vacation. I’d gotten it into my head that this was like a getaway for us. What better way to lie low and stay off the grid than sharing every moment with each other, often naked and making love?
She’d acted aloof earlier, and although I was preoccupied on calls, I’d noticed. I was always observant around her, and I wondered what could have been bothering her. Almost to the point that she behaved moody and sad.
She had to be happy to get out of her engagement with Lev. I knew she was. The bright look of pure elation that covered her face when I told her I wouldn’t bring her back to Gregory was something I’d never forget.
Her happiness mattered, and I felt out of the loop and in the dark not knowing what could’ve made her sad or brooding.
It wasn’t that she was bored, I didn’t think. But maybe… lost? Her life was one form of upheaval after another, and I couldn’t fault her for feeling displaced and without direction.
Not for long, sweetheart. Not for long. As soon as Avilov was dealt with, she’d be with me, at whatever home we decided upon. For good.
“Did you stay put?” I called out when I walked into the suite moments later.
I closed and locked the door behind me, but I paused, wondering why it felt… greasy?
I furrowed my brow, looking back at the door handle. I was the last one who’d touched it, and it didn’t have that filmy, almost oily slickness to it.
Am I imagining things?
As I stared at it, red flags pinged in my mind.
She hadn’t replied yet.
“Nadia?”
I hurried toward the master bedroom where I’d left her. She was tired, but when I headed out, the look of pure lust shone in her eyes. Even if she was drowsy, she would’ve waited for my return. I was only gone a few minutes…
“Fuck!”
But it was long enough for her to be gone.
“Fuck,” I yelled again, searching the room. “Nadia!”
This was getting old. Really, really fucking old. The habit of looking for her at all. The nonstop game of wondering where the hell she had gone. When I told someone to stay put, it wasn’t a goddamn suggestion.
“Nadia!”
My heart raced as I sought her out. In the bathroom. The closets. Then the rest of the penthouse space. I ran through it all, hunting her down and finding her nowhere.
Panic rose within me, but a sense of humiliation and regret hit me too.
I was stupid, so fucking dumb to believe in her when she said she wanted to stay with me. It was all an act. A ploy. A pretense that she was happy to be with me here—or anywhere else.
I’d fallen head over heels for her too quickly. From the moment I first saw her, I wanted her, and now, that haste was biting me in the ass.
I should’ve known better than to be convinced. I should’ve stayed guarded and suspicious.
She’d been acting off, and now, I struggled with the idea that I’d been believing in something that must not actually be there.
I came back to the bedroom, glowering at the bed where I’d last seen her.
Just minutes ago, she’d lain right there! Reclining to rest on her elbows and smiling up at me like a siren. She’d placed her foot on the blanket?—
I froze, my chest heaving as I looked at the bed again. Letting my memory play back in my mind, I saw the image of her clearly.
Her slender foot, inked with flowers, placed on the flat blanket.
The comforter wasn’t smoothly fitted over the bed now. It was ruffled up, messy, and off center.
I narrowed my eyes, thinking quickly and slowing down to pick through the things that were nagging me.
The bed messed up. The slick slipperiness on the door handle.
Did someone break in here?
I scanned the bed again, considering how a body might have moved on the surface to make it so messed up and ruffled.
Almost like someone had struggled on it.
Fought.
I pushed back my first, awful thoughts of what Nadia’s absence could mean. She’d run from me before. It wasn’t ridiculous to assume she could’ve again.
Yet, it looked like someone—if not Nadia—had struggled on this bed.
Someone with an oily or greasy hand had touched that doorknob.
“Where the fuck are you, Nadia?” I whispered as I grabbed my phone.
It was already ringing, and I answered.
“This is Henry,” the newest security supervisor answered. “We just met in my office, but it seems that as we spoke, the cameras at one of the building’s rear entrances were compromised.”
“Fuck!” I ran out of the penthouse.
“I have the team booting it up again.”
“Send them out. Fix the camera later. I need all your men to search the surroundings for Ms. Petrov.”
He didn’t argue. Like the competent man he was, he immediately acted on my command. It didn’t stop me from rushing outside to scan the surroundings for her. Henry met me at the site, and together, we formed a plan for locating Nadia. He had men scouring the building. More were searching the neighborhood.
I hated, again, that I had no way of tracking her, and I swore that was the first thing I’d do when I saw her again. She’d be getting a tracker as soon as possible. Either one implanted or something she’d wear. I couldn’t handle this stress of losing her again.
For hours, I searched. With the limited Valkov men here and on my own, I kept up a constant hunt for her. I called the hospitals. I had Yusef get someone working remotely to hack into the surveillance feed around the building. It was all hands on deck, and still, Nadia was nowhere to be found.
“Have you seen this woman?” I asked a homeless man camped out near the building. I’d resorted to asking all the people on the street. The homeless, the people working in the storefronts. The construction guys working on a curb sewer.
I paid them all upfront, hoping the easy enticement of cash would loosen their tongues. Even with the handover of cash, none of them had news. None of them tried to give me false tips, either.
It was as though Nadia had disappeared into thin air.
“Huh?” he asked, squinting up at me.
“This woman.” I dropped a few more bills into his pan with a sloppily written God bless note taped to it. “Have you seen her?”
Shaking his head, he squinted harder. “That girl?”
“Yes. Have you seen her recently?”
He blew out a long breath, making his scraggly beard fluff out of the way of the air. “No, sir. No. She your wife?”
“You haven’t seen her?” I narrowed my eyes, curious how he couldn’t have spotted her. Avilov had to be behind her abduction. This was Chicago, in a section of the Valkov territory. No other Bratva or crime family would pull something off like this here. We weren’t in Mexico, out near other foreign organizations or others who’d target tourists. The only person who’d take Nadia would be Avilov.
And back here, with this man located here near the door he’d likely taken her out of, this homeless man was in a front-row seat to see anyone who entered and exited via that door.
“I ain’t,” he said, peering up at me through clear eyes. The other homeless I’d interviewed looked drunk or high. Bloodshot eyes greeted me. They spoke with slurred voices, tilting under the effects of malnutrition.
“You’ve been back here all day,” I said.
He furrowed his brow. “Not all day,” he argued, seeming annoyed at the idea of my keeping tabs on him.
“Look again,” I prompted, holding my phone out further for him to see her picture. Dropping a few more bills into his pan had to help.
“Nah, sir, nah. I haven’t seen her.” He shook his head again, dashing my hopes.
I left him, disappointed. Worry settled deeper in my gut as I considered the possibility that I’d lost her for good.
Just as I found her and started dreaming of our future together, she was gone.
Stolen.
I wouldn’t stop looking for her, though.
And if it wasn’t Avilov who snuck in and took her, whoever did would be in a world of pain. I’d find them, and they would pay in blood.