25. Ilya
Ilya
"Fuck!”
My exclamation fills the room as I push over the bed, sending it crashing to the ground so loudly that I’m sure the entire house shakes. I rub a hand over my face, trying to bring myself back down to earth, but every cell in my being is screaming at me that something is terribly, terribly wrong.
Sergei’s not here. I’ve searched this place inside out to find him, sending my men to the far corners of my property and beyond to track down my second-in-command, but there’s no sign of him anywhere.
Even his room looks entirely normal, as if he’s just stepped out to catch his breath.
I have rooted through his closet, his wardrobe, under his bed, looking for anything that might explain where he’s gone and what he’s planning.
But there’s nothing. Not a goddamn fucking thing. Apart from the clear-cut certainty that the man I have trusted with so much for so long has turned his back on me.
And I don’t know what the fuck I’ve done to deserve that.
I can’t wrap my head around it, can’t begin to make sense of it.
What haven’t I given him that he’s been left wanting?
That bastard, I have worked with him for years, laid my trust at his feet, put him in charge of more than anyone else ever had access to, and for what?
For him to turn on me when I least expected it, when my child is coming into the world, as though he owes me no loyalty at all?
It makes no fucking sense to me, but there’s no way this is a coincidence.
Petar is gone, out of state, on the run for his crimes with no intention of returning.
He wouldn’t risk taunting Rose or trying to threaten her, not when he knows the risks; he already has the cops on his ass, and he’s not trying to bring me down on him, too.
No, whoever left that note, they were in the house with all the access they needed.
Sergei is the only one who can move in this place without anyone second-guessing him.
But why? That’s the part I can’t make sense of. Why the fuck would he do this to me? Has he been planning it all along, waiting for the perfect time to strike? Or has something triggered this sudden betrayal?
I’m about to sink down onto the floor to catch my breath when I notice something fluttering out from between the mattress and the bedframe.
It looks to be a photograph. I grab it at once, desperate for anything that might help me make sense of this.
When I turn it over, I find myself faced with an image of a man I recognize at once.
Sergei. Younger—much younger than he is now. He looks to be in his early twenties in this image, gazing up at the camera with a grin half a mile wide on his face. And in his arms...
In his arms is a baby.
I stare down at it for a long moment, my brain struggling to make sense of what I am seeing.
A child? He has a child? He’s never so much as mentioned a kid to me, but I can see, even in this grainy image, that the kid has to be his – same dark hair, same color eyes.
Plus the smile on his face, that’s the smile of a proud new father, I am sure of it.
I flip the image over in my hands. Alexei and Sergei, 2004 is scrawled on the back in messy handwriting, and my brows dig together as I try to interpret it.
Sergei has had a child all this time? A child he hasn’t told me anything about? A child he’s been keeping a picture of in his room to remember him by?
With a secret this big that he’s kept from me so long, there has to be a reason for it. And I can’t believe that the reason has nothing to do with his sudden vanishing here and now. I don’t know how the pieces fit together yet, but I am goddamn certain I will find out, one way or another.
Footsteps stride along the corridor towards me, and I stuff the picture into my pocket, just in case it’s Sergei returning. I don’t want him to figure out that I know his secret; not so soon, anyway.
But instead, I find Gerard standing in the door, his face grim.
"Rose is gone."
The world spins on its axis for a moment as I take in those words.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I demand, striding towards him as if he’s the one who is responsible for Rose’s absence. He backs off slightly, clearly not wanting to deal with the full force of my rage, and shakes his head.
"That’s all I know," he replies. "Maxim and Hector went to take their shift at her room, and they said she was gone. Pulled some of the CCTV footage, and it looks like she made a break for it when you had all the guards gathered."
Shit. I should have known that she might try to pull something like this again.
No matter how sure I am that she’s listening to me, I have to understand that she’s not the kind of woman who can be controlled, not the kind of girl I can just lock down and hope for the best. When I called all the guards in, I interrogated them about Sergei’s whereabouts.
All the while, I had thought—stupidly, I can see now—that she would take me at my word when I told her not to go anywhere.
"Where did she go?" I demand, making for the stairs and taking them two at a time. Gerard struggles to keep up, and when I reach the ground floor, I see a dozen or so of my men spread out, already beginning the search.
"We don’t know, but we’re working on finding out," he promises me. "We’re pulling some footage from the traffic cameras along the street to see if there’s anything else we can go on."
"As soon as you have something, tell me," I grunt before I make my way swiftly to her room. I need to see it empty with my own two eyes to really believe that she’s gone.
I guess a part of me needs to believe that she would not walk out on me like this, especially in the midst of all this craziness.
But it’s empty when I open the door, and rage surges through me, this wave so intense that it nearly catches me off-guard.
There’s a dress laying on the bed, and it looks to be one of the maternity ones I asked Marsha to purchase for her.
Did it all hit home for Rose when she was looking at it, that she realized that she was going to have my child?
Or is this something else? Something to do with Sergei?
Something I haven’t pieced together yet?
I pick up the dress, squeezing it in my fists as though I can summon her back here through sheer force of will, as ridiculous as I know that is.
Closing my eyes for a moment, I picture her, the way she looked at me when I asked her to stay.
How could she gaze into my eyes like that and then just walk away?
Like she didn’t care, like she never cared?
I can’t make sense of it, and honestly, I don’t know if I’m supposed to.
When it comes to her, there is so much I don’t understand.
So much I’m getting the feeling I never will understand.
I cast the dress aside. If she thinks that I won’t find her, she’ll know better soon enough. I turn to leave, but just as I do, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
I snatch it out at once, half-expecting it to be her. But instead, it’s a number I don’t recognize. I lift the phone to my ear, answering at once.
"What is it?" I demand.
"That woman, she’s back at the apartment building again!”
It takes me a second to place the voice, but then I realize it's Rose’s old landlord, the one I paid off to make sure she wouldn’t be able to return to her previous home. My heart clenches in my chest. What the fuck are you doing back there, Rose?
"What do you mean?" I demand, making my way quickly back towards my office. "When did you see her?"
"I saw that old roommate of hers going up with some man," he adds, sounding irritated. "She must still have her key because I haven’t changed the locks yet. But about twenty minutes ago, I saw that girl arrive—you know, the one you told me to keep an eye out for, the one you didn’t want coming back here. "
"With a man?" Sergei? How could he have managed to find out who her old roommate was? Unless… shit, did he follow us to the store, where we had that confrontation with Lisa?
"And I don’t know for sure, but it looked like he had some kind of weapon," he continues, dropping his voice to a dramatic stage whisper.
My throat tightens. No way this doesn’t have something to do with me. Why else would someone with a goddamn gun be walking around an apartment block that could pass for any other in the city?
"I’m going to call the cops," he continues. "It’s just not safe for someone to—"
"Don’t call anyone," I tell him sharply. "You were right to reach out to me first. I’m on my way. Is she still in the apartment now?"
"Yeah, her and this guy," he replies. "But if I don’t see some movement soon, I’m going to—"
"You put in a call to anyone other than me, and you’re going to pay for it,” I snarl at him before I can stop myself.
That seems to catch him off-guard, and he falls silent for a moment. "I—I understand," he mutters. "But I—"
"That’s all that matters," I tell him. "Anything happens, you call me, you hear? Other than that, don’t call anyone, don’t text anyone, don’t breathe a fucking word of this."
I hang up the phone, tossing it into my pocket as I make for the door.
"Maxim," I bark. "Pull the car around. You armed?"
He nods, resting his hand briefly on the gun beneath his jacket.
"Bring a vehicle of your own and come with me," I reply. "I want at least three cars, six men, all ready to fight if it comes to it. That clear?"
He nods again, knowing better than to argue with me. The tension in the mansion is thick; every one of my men knows goddamn well how much trouble they’ll be in if I don’t get Rose back in one piece. I don’t know what the fuck Sergei wants her for, but I am not going to hand her over to him.
Outside, I climb into the car Maxim has drawn up for me and watch in the rearview mirror as my men leap into action.
They are all trained to within an inch of their lives, prepared for just about any eventuality.
I have no idea if they have pieced together any part of what is happening here, but that’s not a problem I’ll dwell on.
All that matters is that they follow my orders and do as they’re told.
And if that involves bringing down the man I thought I could trust with my life in the process, so be it.
Nobody gets away with lying to me. And whatever secrets Sergei has been keeping, by the end of the day, I am going to drag them out into the light.
Whether he likes it or not.