Chapter 24
DAMIEN
The second I see them lay a hand on Lyra, something inside me snaps. Pure, blinding rage scours my chest, hot enough to strip the air from my lungs and drown out everything but my heartbeat, pounding like war drums in my ears.
They think they can touch her. My woman. My pregnant woman.
With newfound strength, I twist and dislodge with wire from around my throat.
The man holding the garrot doesn’t have time to recover before my fist crashes into his jaw. The crack echoes down the street, and he drops.
I don’t let him fall. I drag him back up, drive my knee into his gut hard enough that I feel something give, then twist his head until I hear the wet pop of his neck breaking. He crumples, lifeless, to the pavement, and I’m already moving toward the next man.
The second man lunges at me with a knife, shouting something in Russian, but the roar of my blood drowns it out.
I catch his wrist, wrench until the blade clatters to the asphalt, and slam his head into the hood of my car.
Once. Twice. Three times. Blood smears across the metal, and his body slides to the ground.
I step over him, my hands already closing around the throat of the third.
This one fights harder, clawing at my arms and kicking, but it doesn’t matter. I squeeze until his eyes bulge and his skin turns a blue-gray. When his body finally goes limp, I let him drop like trash.
I’m still looking for the next one when I hear the roar of engines.
Tires screech as several black SUVs tear onto the street, and my men spill out in a rush of steel and gunfire.
The air goes thick with the deafening rattle of bullets.
The few remaining Vasiliev scum scatter, but they don’t make it far.
My men cut them down one by one, their bodies hitting the ground in dull thuds I barely register.
Alek is suddenly in front of me, his hands on my shoulders, checking for injuries.
“Boss—”
“I’m fine,” I growl, shrugging him off. My eyes are already scanning the street, but all I see is the empty space where Lyra should be. “We need to get Lyra.”
Radimir comes up beside us, his gun still smoking. “Where is she?” he asks.
“They took her.” My voice is low, dangerous. “We’re going after them.”
There’s no hesitation. We pile into the nearest SUV. I shove Alek into the back and take the passenger seat. Radimir jumps behind the wheel, and I bark out the direction I saw the enemy car go. My chest feels tight, like I can’t take a full breath until I have her back in my arms.
Radimir floors it, the engine snarling as we tear through the streets. My eyes are locked on the road ahead, every muscle in my body coiled and ready to rip apart whatever stands between Lyra and me.
Minutes stretch into something unbearable. The road forks, and I spot faint tire marks veering right.
“There!” I bark.
We take the turn so fast I’m thrown against the door. The SUV fishtails before it straightens, the headlights catching nothing but empty asphalt and shadows.
I know before Radimir says it. We’ve lost them.
The admission burns worse than any wound I’ve ever taken. My fist slams into the dashboard hard enough to crack the plastic, and I curse, the sound raw in my throat.
“Don’t stop,” I snarl. “They can’t be far.”
We keep going, combing every street, every alley. I call back to headquarters, my voice clipped and cold as I order the rest of my men to sweep the city.
“I want eyes everywhere. Cameras, traffic feeds, street contacts, everything. If a rat crawls out of a hole tonight, I want to know which direction it’s running.”
The replies come in rapid Russian, and I end the call without waiting for more than confirmation. My mind is already racing ahead, running through every possible angle. Where would they take her? What would they do first? My hands clench into fists again, nails biting into my palms.
We go straight back to headquarters and start laying out strategy. All our plans for Rurik are secondary now. He has her, so our timeline moves up. The task is finding him, rescuing Lyra, and putting an end to this once and for all.
I send one group of men to start checking license plates at abandoned warehouses across the city.
Another group is tasked with calling hospitals and making sure no one matching Lyra’s description is brought in.
It’s a slim chance that Rurik will go that route, but I won’t risk leaving any stone unturned.
Worst-case scenario, they’re holding her hostage and they’re going to torture her.
I’ve been in this business long enough to know what men like the Vasilievs do to women they take.
That thought alone is enough to make my vision blur at the edges.
But this isn’t just any woman. She’s the love of my life and the mother of my child.
That makes this fucking personal.
I don’t just want her back. I want to make them wish they’d never been born. I want to burn down every building they’ve ever set foot in and salt the ashes.
Once everyone has an assignment, Radimir, Alek, and I get back into one of the SUVs and start combing the streets again.
Everyone has orders to inform me the second they have even the slightest whiff of a lead.
I don’t care how small or unimportant it might seem.
Anything that could bring me closer to Lyra is worth investigating.
A few calls come in throughout the night, and we check every single tip we receive, but nothing pans out. With every failed tip, I feel my dread start to grow. I have to get her back. I promised to protect her and our child. Now I’ve probably gotten her killed, or worse.
Radimir glances at me as we speed toward the next possible location. “Boss, we’ll find her,” he says in a voice I’m sure is meant to be reassuring.
“We’d better,” I mutter. My voice is steady, but there’s a storm of anguish and fury building underneath.
The phone rings again. Alek answers, speaking rapidly before hanging up.
“We’ve got chatter,” he says. “One of our guys picked up something on the Vasiliev frequency. They’re talking about moving someone tonight. No name, but…”
“It’s her,” I finish for him. It has to be.
Radimir pushes the SUV harder, weaving through late-night traffic. The tires scream around corners, and I keep my eyes on the road, scanning for any sign of that car. Every second counts, and every second she’s out there feels like a failure that digs deeper into my gut.
“Get more men to that location,” I order. “And tell them to keep eyes on it until we get there. No one goes in without me.”
Alek relays the message, and I sit back for half a second, forcing myself to breathe. I can’t go in there wild. Not if she’s inside. I need to be smart, precise. The rage will have to wait until she’s safe before I can unleash it.
Still, the image of her, blindfolded, gagged, and scared, burns behind my eyes. I don’t know if it’s the truth or my own mind torturing me, but it doesn’t matter. Either way, it fuels me.
They don’t know what they’ve done.