Chapter 46
Mikhail
He has her.
The man who tore each member of my family apart, the man who sent my brother back to me in pieces, has the woman I love.
And I may not even get the chance to tell her how I feel.
I’m not sure when exactly I realized the state of my love for Cassandra, its endless nature, engraved into the very etchings of my soul. Perhaps it was the very first time I met her, and I just didn’t know how to recognize the feeling.
A man like me was never built to recognize the feeling.
All I know is I don’t want to live in a world without her. And that horrific world is dangling over my head, hovering over every privileged breath I take.
My fingers find the rough, wooden edge of my desk and grip down. After wasting hours trying to triangulate Cassandra and Ivan’s phones, all we’ve done is throw away valuable time.
“Have you been able to reach Lev to let him know about his brother?”
“No, I just gathered you and Ilya. We can’t afford to waste a second of time, not when the location will be dropped in less than four hours.”
“Is he okay? He hasn’t said a word.”
The sounds of various voices, each as recognizable as the individual scars on my right palm, waver around me like ribbons of color, blurred by the devastation spiraling in my head.
“Don’t worry about him. We need to come up with a plan.”
All I see is Cassandra’s gorgeous face, full dark lashes shading pale grey eyes, wild curls hanging down her cheeks.
I press harder down on the sharp wooden edge, the mahogany wood cracking under the pressure of my grip.
And then I see a very different image. Cassandra, hurt and crying, being tortured by my enemies in a dark, small space.
“Mikhail, snap out of it. We have to work on a plan.”
She hates small spaces. She panics.
“There’s not much time, who knows what he’ll do to them if we miss the—”
A deep guttural sound rips from the base of my throat as I heave my old, inherited mahogany desk onto its side, the papers and lamp once resting on the surface crashing down to the floor.
But it’s not enough. Because he has her.
I wrap my fingers around anything I can reach, flinging each item to the ground. Books, computers, various bottles of booze. None of it helps.
“Fuck, Ivan’s the only one who could calm him down from this.”
“Mikhail, stop!”
She hates small spaces. What must she be going through, wherever they’re hiding her?
Someone tackles me to the ground, and I don’t even fight it, embracing the sudden crush of pain from my limbs hitting the floor.
All my fault.
“Enough. We’re going to get her back, Mikhail.” I look up, seeing Andrei’s face hovering above mine. “She needs you right now, man. You can’t lose it yet.”
Shivers rack down my large frame, snapping me out of the destructive episode. She’s in trouble, and she needs me.
The words she said to me the first night we met find their way to the light. The words that became my prayer, my saving grace in a hopeless storm.
Just fight a bit longer.
I’d fight for the rest of my life for that woman.
“Okay,” I say, climbing to my feet.
I survey the disastrous state of my office, then walk over to my fallen, cracked desk and lift it back onto its legs. I nod appreciatively toward Andrei, and the gesture is immediately returned.
“Okay, let’s come up with a plan.”