Chapter Seven
River
The bouquet sits on the passenger seat beside me, and every time I glance at the bright yellow sunflowers mixed with white daisies, I feel slightly ridiculous. I’ve never been the flowers kind of guy.
Never saw the point.
If I cared about someone, I showed it by fixing whatever was broken, making sure they were safe, and standing between them and anyone stupid enough to threaten them. Then I learned Nadia’s favorite flowers were sunflowers because her mother used to keep them in her room before she died.
Suddenly, they didn’t seem so pointless.
My grip tightens on the steering wheel as I pull into the parking lot behind 4R Ink.
Ever since Royal announced that Ivan had married someone else, I haven’t been able to shake the knot sitting in my stomach.
Watching Nadia’s face fall while Royal talked about annulments told me everything I needed to know. She hadn’t looked relieved.
She’d looked heartbroken. Maybe I imagined it. But I’m done pretending this marriage is still fake.
It stopped feeling fake the moment she fell asleep in my arms on our first night together, trusting me enough to rest without fear. Somewhere between shared breakfasts, sarcastic arguments, and having her in my arms every day, she’d quietly become my home.
I don’t want an annulment or a divorce. I want my wife. I pick up the bouquet, knowing I’d do anything to make her stay with me. I smile to myself as I climb out of the truck. Then I stop. The shop is locked. The CLOSED sign posted.
A cold feeling settles in my chest. That’s strange. Royal said his last appointment wasn’t until later. He should still be inside. I try the handle anyway and find it locked. My smile disappears. I pull out my phone and immediately call Royal.
He answers almost instantly. “What’s up?”
“Where are you?”
A pause. “Home.”
I frown. “I thought you had a late appointment.”
“It got canceled. I told Nadia. I thought she told you.”
The knot in my stomach tightens. “What do you mean it got canceled?”
“About twenty minutes before it. The client called.” A beat. “What’s going on, River?”
I straighten so fast my vision swims. “I left because I thought you were still here.”
Neither of us speaks. My blood turns to ice.
“Royal. Tell me she’s not been in that shop alone.”
His voice is suddenly deadly serious. “I wouldn’t have left if I knew she was alone.”
I don’t even remember dropping the flowers.
“She’s probably still there,” he says quickly, though I can hear the uncertainty creeping into his voice. “Maybe she’s in the bathroom or—”
“No.”
I already know. I don’t know how. I just do. “Check the cameras.”
“I’m on it.”
The call stays connected as I unlock the shop and make my way to the basement entrance beneath the tattoo shop and practically throw myself down the stairs. Royal’s workstation lights the room with dozens of glowing monitors, and I drop into his chair before he even tells me what he’s seeing.
“I’ve got remote access.” His keyboard clacks rapidly through the speaker. “I’m pulling up the security footage now.”
“Hurry.” My heart is in my throat.
“I’m trying.”
I can’t sit still. I’m up and pacing before I’ve decided to be, phone against my ear. Every step I take is another second of the nineteen days I spent knowing this man was patient and doing nothing about it.
Seconds feel like hours. Then Royal’s voice comes back, strained. “River.”
Every muscle in my body locks. “What?”
“I found them.”
I can’t breathe.
“Damir came into the shop.” The words barely register before another follows. “He took her.”
Everything inside me goes still. For one impossible second, I hear nothing. For half a heartbeat, I let myself believe she left on her own. Pure rage explodes through my veins.
I stop pacing and slide back into the seat facing Royal’s computers. I slam my hands onto the keyboard before forcing myself to think. Thinking saves lives. Panic gets people killed.
“Her phone. She never goes anywhere without it,” I mutter almost in reassurance.
“Okay. Do that.”
I set the phone down and put it on speaker. Then, I open the tracking software I’d used countless times as a detective, fingers flying across the keyboard faster than I thought possible. It’s been years since I’ve used the program, but muscle memory takes over.
I enter Nadia’s number, authenticate the emergency access protocol, and stare at the loading screen. A blinking dot appears.
“There.” Oh, thank fuck.
Royal exhales sharply. “You got her?”
“I’ve got a location.”
The map zooms in automatically. She is in an upscale hotel in downtown Atlanta. Penthouse level. I call the group line and give them everything in about nine seconds.
“She’s at Hotel Crescent.”
Raiden answers first. “On our way.”
Roman’s voice follows. “Ten minutes.”
Royal doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll beat all of you there.”
“I’ll meet you there.” I disconnect, pull my Sig from the armory locker on my way past, and take the stairs three at a time.
My bike is parked out back. I leave the truck and the flowers where they are. It’s faster. Every red light is ignored. Every speed limit forgotten. I think about her arms locking around my waist, her cheek between my shoulder blades. She better be untouched, or there will be hell to pay.
The only thought in my head is getting to her before Damir decides she’s no longer useful. Because if he’s hurt her, God help him. He might be the kingpin, but I’m his nemesis.
???
I’m the last to arrive.
Royal is already waiting beside a matte black Range Rover with a backpack slung over one shoulder. Raiden stands still beside him, his expression blank and deadly, and Roman paces impatiently a few feet away. The second I climb off my bike, Royal tosses me a small electronic keycard.
“I hacked the hotel system.”
Of course, he did. “Penthouse?”
He nods. “Only one suite on the floor.” He taps the card. “Recoded this into a master key.”
I don’t waste time asking how. I don’t care. “Let’s move.”
Nobody stops us, and it isn’t because four men in black and leather look like they belong in a marble lobby.
It’s because Royal walks in front. He grew up in buildings like this one.
He crosses that floor the way a man crosses a room he owns, and every uniform behind that desk reads it instantly and looks somewhere else.
The rest of us are just what follows him.
The elevator doors slide open almost immediately. Inside, Royal connects a small device beneath the control panel.
“That’ll jam the elevator once we reach the top.”
“No interruptions,” Raiden says.
“No witnesses,” Royal agrees.
The elevator dings softly. The doors open onto a hallway so quiet it almost feels abandoned. Raiden immediately moves toward the stairwell, positioning himself where nobody can reach the hallway without going through him first.
Roman checks his weapon. Royal hands me the master key. I slide it through the lock. The light flashes green, and the door opens without a sound. I go through first. Roman comes in behind me.
We move through the entryway without speaking, weapons raised as years of training take over. The suite is enormous, all polished marble and expensive furniture, but the voices drifting from deeper inside tell us exactly where to go.
Damir is shouting. “Do you know what a daughter costs?” His accent is thick enough that some of the words blur. “Twenty years, Food, clothes, schools, guards, drivers. Years of expense and exactly one way for a man to see any of it returned to him. And you took even that from me.”
Nadia doesn’t answer.
“You should have been a son”
Damir continues ranting. “Your mother gave me one child and then nothing. Nine years. Nine years of doctors and excuses. An expense with no return. I took care of that.”
Nadia’s voice, when it comes, is very small. “You told everyone she died from an aneurysm.”
Damir laughs. “That’s the story they believed.”
Something goes cold and very quiet in my chest.
“And now, here we are again.” Fabric shifts.
He’s moving around her. “Ivan is married. There is no alliance to make, no debt left to settle, nothing about you that is worth one dollar to me.” His voice drops.
“Do you understand what that makes you, Nadia? Not a daughter, not a traitor. A cost. And a man in my position does not carry costs. He writes them off.”
“I hate you.” Nadia’s voice cracks on it.
A loud crack echoes through the suite. A slap. My vision narrows. I don’t wait; I round the corner with my weapon already aimed.
“Step away from her.”
Everything slows. Damir spins toward me. From the corner of my eye, I see his bodyguard immediately reach for his own gun. I remain focused on Damir. I’ll leave Roman to handle the bodyguard.
Then I look at my wife, and the rage nearly drops me to my knees.
She’s standing. That’s the part that guts me. He hasn’t tied her to anything, hasn’t needed to, because he made her stand in the middle of the room the way he’s made her stand in front of him her whole life, and she did it. Her wrists are zip-tied in front of her, and her hands are shaking.
One side of her face is already turning red where Damir struck her, tears streaking both cheeks. Our eyes meet.
“River—”
“I’m here, angel.”
Damir laughs as his eyes dart between us. “How sweet. Is that the word?” His gaze lands on me. “I wondered when you’d arrive.”
The bodyguard raises his gun, thinking I’m distracted. Roman disappears from my peripheral vision. A second later, his huge body tackles the bodyguard to the floor. I don’t shift my gaze or weapon off Damir.
I hear loud grunts, and in a split second, Roman has the man pinned with a gun pointed to the back of his head.
“You think you and your goons can take me? Do you know who you’re messing with?” Damir rants, pointing his gun directly at me.
“Your first mistake is thinking we’re some random tattoo artists. Your second was overestimating yourself.” I take a step. “Your last one was putting your hands on my wife,” I growl.
Roman chuckles. “You fucked with the wrong group, asshole.”
Damir grins like a maniac. “I don’t think so.”
Everything happens all at once. He fires. Before I can react, Nadia moves for the first time since I came through the door and drives her bound hands into her father’s shoulder with everything she has. His shot tears into the wall beside me instead of my chest.
I move instantly. Closing the distance in three strides, I bring the butt of my Sig down hard against the side of Damir’s head. He collapses to the floor, unconscious. I don’t spare him another glance.
“Nadia.” I’m beside her before she finishes falling.
She practically crashes into me the moment I cut the tie from her wrists, throwing both arms around my neck with enough force to nearly knock me backward.
“I’ve got you.”
She buries her face against my shoulder and breaks down completely.
“I’ve got you,” I repeat, holding her tighter. “You’re safe.”
She clings to me as though letting go might make me disappear.
“I’m sorry,” she cries.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I thought—”
“I know. I’ll always protect you, angel.” I press a soft kiss to the side of her neck.
Behind us, Roman efficiently secures both Damir and the unconscious bodyguard with heavy-duty restraints just as footsteps pound down the hallway. Raiden and Royal rush inside, weapons drawn.
“You good?” Raiden asks.
I nod once. “We’re good.”
The hotel phone suddenly rings, and every head turns. Royal sighs. “I’ve got it.”
He lifts the receiver. “Penthouse.”
He pauses to listen. Then the corner of his mouth twitches. “Oh, yes. Sorry about that.” He glances toward the bullet hole in the wall. “No gunshot. We opened a bottle of champagne.”
Roman snorts. Royal ignores him. “Yes…rather enthusiastically.”
He hangs up. “They bought it.”
Raiden shakes his head. “I don’t even want to know.” Then he turns to face me. “Take Nadia. We’ll handle this.” He nods toward Damir. “You’ve got somewhere else to be. Take my car.”
I give them a nod of thanks, then look down at Nadia, who still hasn’t let go of me. I slide one arm beneath her knees and lift her into my arms. She immediately curls against my chest.
“I’m taking you home,” I whisper.