Chapter 7 - Artyom
Three days.
That's how many days passed since I was back at the Bratva headquarters and how many days since I’d held Ninel in my arms in a fucking grungy alley.
I heard the alarm for the garage go off while I was working in the office and noticed that Ninel was sliding into one of the SUVs instead of one of the flashy cars.
She scored a point for that and another when I tracked her car to the front of one of my restaurants.
Work was beginning to catch up on me and Yegor and Zahkar needed me back on the front lines. We got attacked twice in the past week and we still have no fucking idea who ordered the hit. With me being gone, I assigned one of my guards, Ruslan Voronin, to watch over Ninel.
I informed him about her trip to the city and her desire to go back, which she'll more than likely try to do on her own.
I warned him that she'd also slipped through Lev's guards when she was living at their family mansion.
I needed him to stick on Ninel like gum underneath the desk of a damn highschool.
And if he let her slip away he'd have to deal with my wrath.
He was the only guard allowed in the house. The only rooms off limits were my office and our bedroom.
It's also been three days since Ninel refused to eat breakfast with me, stating that she was an adult and had a right to refuse a meal if she didn't want it.
A part of me wanted to withhold all meals from her until she chose to eat but I also reminded myself of the peace treaty, clause fourteen the Protection of Basic Human Needs clause.
It stated that any intentional act by a member of one family to withhold or deny basic human needs, including, but not limited to, food, shelter, and clothing, to a member of the opposing family shall constitute a direct violation of this treaty.
Offenders shall be held financially liable, subject to forfeiture of seventy percent of all net profits derived from illicit or controlled substances for a period of twenty-four consecutive months.
Is that the only reason why you don't want to see Ninel go hungry, Artie?
I shook my head and climbed behind the wheel of my Jaguar, heading to headquarters.
An hour later, I sat behind my desk, Yegor and Zahkar in front of me.
“Any update on who the fuck blew our warehouse to hell?” I snarled. Millions in arms and ammo, gone.
“All systems at the warehouse and within a five-mile radius were on a loop,” Yegor stated.
“How the hell did they get past our systems?”
“The only way that could happen is if we have a mole,” Zahkar said. “Between our systems and Lev's, our intel is the best on U.S. soil.”
“We better not have a fucking mole!” I snapped.
A mole in our grid lab would be like hunting for a strand of hay in a haystack. That's how fucked up the situation would be. They’d know every trick in the book to cover their tracks.
“Safin got anything on his end?” I asked.
Yegor shook his head. “Like us, Timur and his team are digging through hours of footage trying to catch something.”
“We need a trap. How the hell do they keep getting one up on us? The only ones who we've never found any evidence on after an attack is this fucking ghost enemy,” I growled.
“Like Zahkar said,” Yegor replied, “we could have a mole. And if we do, Lev probably does to.”
“How do we find a mole, that's probably one of our own hackers?” I ran a hand through my hair. “If we start digging, they’ll know, they have access to every database in the faction.”
“God, I hope it’s not a mole,” Zahkar muttered. “We don’t have time to research every single member with paper and pen.”
Yegor exhaled, rubbing his temple. “We have to start somewhere. Let’s narrow it down to anyone who had access to every building hit by this ghost enemy.”
Over the next three hours, we compiled a list of names to investigate.
When finished, Yegor and Zahkar exited my office, leaving me alone with my thoughts, and a growing sense of unease.
These attacks started two years ago. What are they waiting on to show their hand?
Are they gathering more alliances? Just fucking with us?
A few minutes later, my cell rang. It was Konstantin Zorin, head of my Grid and my eyes everywhere. He answered only to me.
“What do you have for me, Konstantin? Any information on the attack?”
“No, sir. Not yet. We’re still investigating. I’m calling to let you know that Mrs. Rykov’s brothers have started actively searching for her.”
“Anything else?”
“No, sir.”
I hung up.
I thought hearing that those Safin bastards were looking for Ninel would bring some satisfaction. Instead, my anger flared…memories of how worried we’d been when Vera disappeared from Vegas surged back. Yegor and Zahkar had found her first, at Jaroslav’s.
They thought I didn't know that she was missing. And I never let on that I did. By the time they found her they discovered she’d already gotten married him.
I want them to feel the same rage and betrayal I felt when they eventually learn Ninel and I are married.
Pfft! Married? Artie, You haven’t even claimed her yet! I should’ve gotten rid of you, just like I swore I would, and put Yegor as leader. You’re pathetic!
I shoved my father’s voice out of my head and tapped the keys on my laptop. I pulled up the feed to the house. I needed to see Ninel…it had been far too long since I saw those memorizing eyes of hers.
One minute stretched to two…three…then four as I scanned for Ninel.
Nothing.
I even paused the feed in the bedroom, thinking she might have been in the bathroom. Ten minutes in, it hit me…Ninel was nowhere on my fucking estate.
I rose from my desk, grabbed my car keys, and dialed Kolya, my head guard, while heading to the parking lot.
“Yes, Mr. Rykov. What can I do for you?”
“Where the fuck is Ruslan?”
I heard keys tapping on the other end. “He’s in the house, sir. But, something's wrong. He just collapsed in the living room. ”
Sliding behind the wheel, I pulled up all the cars in the garage on my tracker. The Porsche was in the city, five minutes away.
“He was in charge of Mrs. Rykov. If one hair on my wife’s head is touched, I’ll torture Ruslan before I kill him. Strip him and tie him to the tree at the back of the house. I’ll deal with him when I return.”
“Yes, sir.”
I cut the line and sped toward the stationary Porsche. My heart jolted in my chest like a rum bottle forgotten in a trunk. With that recent hit against us, the city wasn’t fucking safe. Shit! I slammed my hands against the steering wheel and slammed the accelerator.
The last time I’d been this afraid, I was ten. After my mother had been beaten in the ring so badly that she had collapsed and needed to be taken to the hospital. Yegor and Zahkar were told that our mother went on a short vacation because she needed some time for herself.
I sighed. It wasn’t like Ninel couldn’t take care of herself, she was trained by Lev and Jaroslav.
She is…but did you return the knife she usually carries? Or give her a cell phone in case she ran into trouble?
Shit!
My mind ran back to the alley where she tried to cut me in the face with the key but I overpowered Ninel’s tiny frame easily.
I screeched to a halt in front of the Porsche, parked outside one of our casinos this time. I hopped out and moved toward the nearest art gallery. Knowing Ninel, if she hadn’t stopped there yet, she’d be on her way.
Fingers crossed, I ducked into every store along the way, scanning the crowds.
Ten minutes in, I spotted her in the dark blue dress I had laid out for her that morning, cut to mid-thigh, paired with boots with two-inch heels.
Sunglasses shielded her eyes, and instead of a baseball cap, her hair was tucked under a wide-brimmed straw hat.
Finally, I could breathe.
I trailed her as she moved from store to store toward the art gallery. Now that I had her in my sights, I couldn’t help but be impressed that she’d gotten one over on Ruslan and bypassed the other guards on duty.
The only way she could’ve done it was if she memorized their shift changes. But how the hell did she even get the car out of the garage?
I dragged a hand down my face. Did I even want to figure it out? If I did, she’d just find another way to escape. Still, I couldn’t let her think sneaking out was acceptable.
I'll punish Ruslan in front of her. She'll learn that her actions affect others as well. I won't kill him, at least not today, but he'll remain assigned to Ninel so every time she sees him she'll remember the pain she caused him and think twice about her damn actions.
Fifteen minutes later, she stepped into the gallery, and I followed a minute after. For now, I’d let it slide. I won't drag her back like I did the last time. Hopefully, this outing would curb her need to sneak off…at least for a while.
Inside, I watched as she moved from painting to painting, eyes sparkling, a smile plastered across her face. The last time I’d seen her this happy was at the meal we’d shared before…I kidnapped her.
She stopped at one painting, studying every detail. She even chatted with an elderly woman for a few moments. She bit her lip, and sighed. Her shoulders slumped slightly.
The painting hinted at a woman walking down a road, the trees on either side bleeding into one another in shades of shifting colors of oranges, reds, yellows and pinks.
While she stood in one place, I scanned the room…and froze. Two dark haired men in suits stood among the crowd, watching her. Every thirty seconds, their eyes flicked back to Ninel.
What was their plan? This place was too crowded to snatch her without causing a scene. Were they going to lure her outside instead?
Ninel wasn’t far from the curtain where employees slipped in and out. If those men pulled her behind it, no one would notice until it was too late.
Without looking away, I yanked my phone from my pocket and called Konstantin.
“Yes, sir?”
I rattled off the gallery’s address. “Do you see the two men watching Ninel?”
“Sir…you’re in the art gallery too?” His voice sounded weird.
I spoke between clenched teeth, trying not to raise my voice to draw attention to myself. Why the fuck would he ask such an obvious question?
“I am. Why?” I asked as calmly as I could.
“Sir, I’m not seeing you, Mrs. Rykov…or the men.”
Fucking hell.
“Describe the people you're seeing.”
Konstantin quickly described a few of the persons and what they were wearing. I noticed each person was in the art gallery. It means that whatever Konstantin was watching was from today.
Then it dawned on me…could it be…
“It’s a loop,” Konstantin said quickly, ending my thought. “I caught a faint glitch.”
“Track it. I think it’s that fucking ghost gang.”
There was clicking on the other end of the phone.
“Call Kolya, tell him I need back up and I have Mrs. Rykov with me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Konstantin, don't disappoint me.”
“Wouldn't dream of it, sir.”
I cut the call.
My pulse spiked as the men moved closer to Ninel. Suddenly, one man exited from behind the curtain, and for a split second I thought he’d drag her out of sight. Instead, he only smiled at her, then walked towards the woman she’d spoken with earlier.
That was enough. Time to get the fuck out of there…and I had to be smart about it, so I don't get us both killed.
And for that I needed a distraction.