Chapter 24 – Kaz
I’m lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, doing the one thing I’ve never allowed myself to do before—regret.
The room feels emptier without her. Too big. Too cold. Like the walls themselves know she’s gone. Her scent still lingers in the sheets, soft and stubborn, clinging to the pillows where she used to rest her head.
I should’ve fought harder.
I should’ve begged if I had to.
Instead, I let her walk out the door.
I told myself I was doing the right thing—letting her go, giving her space, showing her I wasn’t the monster she feared. But now, alone in this silence, it doesn’t feel noble. It feels cowardly. It feels like I took the easy way out.
I see her face every time I blink—wet eyes, trembling lips, her voice shaking when she asked me, “What did I ever do to you?”
And I remember the way she looked at me after I told her she was free to go—like I’d just proven everything she feared about me was true.
God.
I sit up, elbows on my knees, dragging my hands down my face.
I should have held her. Kissed her. Told her again and again that I loved her. That everything I did—all the blood on my hands—was because I didn’t know any other way to keep her safe.
I thought letting her go would prove I loved her.
Now all I can think is—
What if I never see her again?
What if I made the biggest mistake of my life?
My phone rings. When I see it’s Maxim, I sit up and take the call. “Yes?”
His voice is sharp, urgent. “I dropped Violet off and was on my way back. Then I heard an explosion that rocked the whole street. I turned around and it was her apartment—”
My blood runs cold.
“What?” I’m already up, already running toward the bedroom door, my heart thundering in my chest.
Maxim isn’t done. “When I got out of the car, someone almost ran me over. I tried to turn—Hurry. I don’t know what—shit—”
The line goes dead.
“Maxim? Maxim!”
No answer.
I shove the phone into my pocket, sprinting through the hallway like a madman. My fists clench, fury ripping through me like wildfire. I should have never let her go. Never trusted she’d be safe without me.
I hit the garage, throw the door open, and get into my car. The engine roars to life like it knows I don’t have time to waste.
I call Maxim again. It doesn’t connect.
I call again. Voicemail. Fuck.
I push the pedal down so hard the tires scream against the concrete. I’m flying down the street, swerving around cars, red lights blurring past me like blood in water.
Please, God.
Let her be okay.
Let her be breathing.
Let me not be too late.
If something’s happened to her—no. I’ll burn the city down.
Her house is covered in smoke when I arrive.
I slam on the brakes and jump out before the car fully stops, sprinting toward what’s left of Violet’s building.
The smell of smoke is thick—furniture, wood, plastic, all of it burning.
My heart lurches as I take in the blackened door, the shattered windows, the flames licking up one side of the living room.
Her apartment is a goddamn war zone.
“Maxim!” I bark, my voice hoarse from panic.
He’s crouched against the side of the building, blood running down his arm. His face is tight with pain, his jacket torn and stained.
“I tried—” he rasps out. “I came back when I heard the bang. Someone tried to run me over. Took a shot at me. Just grazed me. I—” He exhales, shaking his head. “I couldn’t get to her. I couldn’t save her.”
Everything inside me stills. Goes deathly, murderously calm.
I step over broken glass, half-burned picture frames, debris. My eyes search the room like a wolf locked on scent.
And then—I see it. Her necklace.
The thin silver chain glinting in the firelight, caught between a scorched book and a half-burnt throw pillow. The charm is twisted, singed, but I’d know it anywhere.
Violet’s. Mine. I reach down and pick it up, the metal hot in my palm. And something inside me breaks. Not with grief. Not with helplessness. With cold, seething fury.
I should’ve never listened to her.
Should’ve fought harder.
Should’ve kept her locked inside my world—even if it meant she hated me forever.
I could’ve lived with being her monster.
But this? This ruin? This empty apartment, soaked in smoke and blood and absence?
No.
No.
If something happens to her—if she’s gone—I will never forgive myself.
“I let her go,” I whisper to no one, to everyone. “But now…I’ll kill every last person who laid a finger on her.”
I look down at the necklace clenched in my hand, the charm digging into my skin. Anyone who touched her. Anyone who planned this. Dead.
“Kaz,” Maxim’s voice croaks behind me. I turn. He’s holding his side, blood seeping through his shirt, but he’s still standing. Still breathing. “We’ll find her.”
I walk to him, my jaw clenched, and sling his arm over my shoulder.
“We better,” I growl.
I help him to the car, each step igniting more fury, more purpose. The kind of fury that fuels a massacre. The kind of purpose that doesn’t stop until the world burns.
We drive off, the fire in the rearview mirror dimming as something far darker begins to rise in my chest.
They took her. But they have no idea what that cost them.
By the time we pull up to the estate, my knuckles are white around the steering wheel, the charm of Violet’s necklace still clenched in my fist like a vow.
As soon as I kill the engine, I throw the door open.
“Call the doctor,” I tell Maxim sharply. “Get the graze checked and treated.”
He doesn’t argue—just nods and limps off toward the house.
I don’t wait.
I head straight to my study, the walls closing in around me with every step. The second I get inside, I slam the door, yank my phone out, and dial Niko. He picks up on the first ring.
“I need you to hurt them,” I say, voice low and lethal.
A pause. “Who?”
“Arina,” I snap. “Violet’s been kidnapped.”
There’s silence on the other end. Then Niko exhales slowly. “Shit.”
“I want answers. And I want Arina to feel it. No sleep. No food. No air. I want hell, Niko. Torture them until they confess. Until they beg to tell me where they’ve taken Violet.”
“Understood,” he says, grim. Then the line goes dead
Mindless with frustration, I take it out on my office. Moments later, the study is a mess—papers strewn, a lamp broken, my fists bleeding from punching the wall. My breaths are ragged, uneven, the room spinning around me. I don’t even hear the door open until I hear a voice behind me.
“Boss?”
I whirl, chest heaving, eyes wild. Milos.
I blink. “I thought you were still at the hospital.”
“I returned today. I saw Maxim outside. He told me what happened with Violet.”
Just hearing her name in someone else’s mouth makes the blood roar in my ears again. I turn away, clenching my jaw, breathing hard. The necklace in my pocket feels like it’s burning through my skin.
Milos steps further into the room, slowly. “I have some information,” he says. “Something I meant to share earlier—that night I was released, but you were…understandably in a rush.”
I face him fully now, something like guilt surfacing beneath my fury. “Milos—about everything—” I swallow, jaw tightening. “I knew you weren’t the traitor. Not truly. But I had to put on a show. Draw the real rat out.”
He studies me for a beat, then nods once. “I figured as much,” he says quietly. “If you truly believed I was the traitor, I’d be dead already.”
I exhale, long and shaky.
He nods again. “I’m still here. That’s what matters.”
I drop into the nearest chair, exhaustion and adrenaline crashing together. “What do you have?”
Milos doesn’t hesitate. “Before I was…sidelined, I had started my own investigation. Quiet. Separate from Maxim and the others. I was following some unusual patterns—bribes, wire transfers, encrypted messages—linked back to the Solokov Mafia.”
My head snaps up. “Solokov?”
He nods. “Something about their movements felt off. Too quiet, too measured. They’re expanding but doing it under the radar. When I got closer, I found signs of an operation—targeting your estate. Then Arina turned on me. I was removed before I could follow the trail.”
My stomach churns. My instincts kick in. “You think the Solokovs framed you? To get you out of the way?”
He nods grimly. “My gut says yes. I couldn’t prove it. But if they’re working from the shadows—and Arina was connected to them somehow—it adds up.”
It makes sense, and I’m prepared to follow the trail. “Thank you, Milos,” I say quietly. “That’s solid information.”
He gives me a nod and walks out, the door clicking softly behind him. I’m alone again. The silence is too loud.
I cross the room, open the cabinet, and pull out a bottle of vodka. My hand is shaking, just slightly. The kind of tremor that doesn’t come from fear but from fury barely restrained.
I twist the cap off. The scent of alcohol hits me like a slap. But just as I’m about to pour, I pause.
Not tonight.
Not when she’s out there, god knows where. Not when my mind needs to be sharp.
I set the bottle back down, untouched, and sink onto the edge of my desk, elbows on knees, hands running over my face. The hours crawl. I pace. I sit. I stand. I think of Violet, her eyes, her voice, her scent.
My phone finally rings near morning time. I snatch it up without checking the screen. “Hello?”
A familiar voice cuts through the haze.
“What the hell is going on over there?” Adrian. “I’m hearing things. Which woman did you get involved with that’s making you lose your damn mind?”
I exhale a breath that feels like gravel. “Violet,” I say.
He’s silent for a beat.
Then, “When can I meet this Violet?”
I rub the back of my neck, exhausted. “You know her already. She’s one of Jennie’s best friends.”
There’s a pause, then a sharp intake of breath. “What? No. That Violet? No way. What are the odds? Jennie and Zoe have been freaking out. They haven’t been able to reach Violet in weeks. She’s been with you all this time? What the hell, Kaz?”
“I’ll explain—”
My phone vibrates with another call. I glance at the screen. Niko.
Shit.
“I’ll call you back,” I say to Adrian quickly.
“Kaz—”
I end the call and switch lines.
“Niko?”
“Arina finally cracked,” he says flatly, unbothered. “It’s the Solokov family. They’ve got her. Moved her to one of their auction sites in Mexico. It’s called LaFarge.”
Everything inside me freezes and burns at the same time.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice low. “Kill them.”
Niko nods once. “Already handled.”
I exhale. But there’s no relief.
“I’ll need the coordinates to LaFarge. I’ve heard of the place. Its location is highly classified,” I say.
“That’s right. I don’t have them yet,” Niko replies. “But I’ll call a contact who owes me too many favors. You—get ready to fly. I’ll get you what you need in five.”
I’m already out the door before he finishes speaking.
I head to my room. I throw open the wardrobe and start changing.
Tactical gear. Lightweight, breathable, dark.
I strap a knife to my ankle and tuck another under my shirt.
Every movement is sharp. Efficient. My mind is a furnace, and Violet is the only thing inside it.
My phone buzzes. One new message. It’s a pin drop. Coordinates. And just under it:
See you in Mexico.
I call him immediately. “What the hell do you mean, ‘See you in Mexico’?”
“You think I’m letting you go alone?” Niko’s voice is dry. “Kaz, you’re in love. That makes you dangerous—and reckless. I’m coming with weapons and men. We do this right. Clean and brutal.”
I close my eyes, jaw tight. “I owe you for this.”
“Damn right you do.”
He hangs up.
I finish dressing and head to the hangar. My jet is already being prepped for takeoff. As I step inside, I tug Violet’s necklace—her silver chain, warped and tarnished—tight around my wrist like a bandage, like armor.
They think I’m the wolf. Now they’ll see what happens when you steal the wolf’s mate.