Milo
As the lift doors slide open, I step out with murder already wound along my spine.
I scan the lobby, my jaw set, my fingers curled tight.
I don’t like this.
I don’t like leaving her alone, not even for five fucking minutes, and I especially don’t like the bastard who forced me to come downstairs instead of bringing the food up like I ordered.
I spot him near the entrance.
Delivery driver. Cheap uniform, a cap pulled low, a bulky bag slung over his back.
For a moment, I seriously consider breaking his nose.
He looks up as I approach. “Delivery for Milo Markev?”
I dip my chin.
He hands me the paper bag, then the tray with the drinks and the McFlurry balanced on top. He hangs back, clearly waiting for a tip.
“Get lost,” I snap. “And remember this name, because the next time we cross paths and I ask you to do something, you don’t hesitate, or I will make sure you stop breathing.”
He blinks, confusion flashing briefly before instinctive wariness takes its place.
I smirk. “Ever heard of the Bratva?”
He nods frantically.
I wink.
He turns on his heel and bolts for the exit.
I head back toward the lifts, then freeze when I spot Isaak.
He stands near security, speaking to one of the guards. My face hardens as I move toward him, and then I realise he is not alone.
Adelaide stands at his side, his arm locked tight around her waist.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I snap.
Isaak’s head whips toward me, but it’s Adelaide who speaks before he can.
“How is she?” Her voice is urgent. “Is she all right?”
“As though you give a damn,” I reply coolly.
Isaak fixes me with a murderous look, but I don’t so much as acknowledge it.
I know she does care. I know she cares about Octavia, about all of them. But I also know she hurt her, and I am not in the mood to make anything easy for anyone, especially not for someone who hurt my girl in any way.
She rolls her eyes. “Why was no one told?”
“Because no one knows,” I answer evenly. And you will see to it that it remains so.”
Her jaw tightens, but she nods.
“How did you find out?” I ask, my eyes shift between them.
Isaak doesn’t even blink. “It was not especially challenging. I tried to contact you about a job. You disappeared, so I sent my men to find you.”
“Whatever,” I say, already turning towards the lift.
I need to see my girl.
Now.
They fall into step beside me.
I don’t make it more than two strides before a body slams into mine, knocking the paper bag from my grip. The tray tips in my hand, sending the drinks over the edge as melted ice cream splashes across the floor.
“Fuck—” I snarl, dropping in a futile attempt to salvage what little remains. There is nothing.
When I finally look up, the space is already empty.
The bastard is gone.
As though he was never here at all.
Isaak scans the lobby, confusion hardening his features, while Adelaide searches the room, assessing.
Nothing.
No one in sight.
I don’t like this, not one bit.
“My woman is waiting for that food,” I grind out. “Get the security footage. Now. I want every camera from the last five minutes.”
I direct the order to one of my men already moving in at the commotion. He nods once and disappears.
A cleaner rushes forward to deal with the mess, but I am already in motion. We head for the lifts, and that bad feeling returns.
I should have threatened the bastard harder and forced him to bring the food upstairs.
And whoever just vanished… I don’t like it.
Adelaide pulls out her phone, her fingers moving fast across the screen.
“It’s fine,” she says. “I’ll reorder it. I’ll push it through—”
I barely hear her. I don’t care about the food. I care about getting back to her.
The lift rises, and my chest tightens with every floor we pass.
We move past the nursing station. They lower their heads and fix their eyes on the clipboards in front of them, suddenly very absorbed in their paperwork.
This entire wing is empty, cleared out on my orders. Only her room is occupied.
We are only steps from her door when the world fucking explodes.
My world.
The blast hits like a goddamn freight train. The floor bucks beneath us, the force throws us backward as I slam into the wall, my head cracks hard against it. Light blinds me, heat sears the air, and the smell—fuck—I cough, choking on it.
My ears ring as I stand, my vision spins, my heart hammers so violently it feels ready to tear me apart from the inside.
I stagger forward.
The fire is coming from her room.
“No,” I choke, taking a single step before another explosion erupts.
Smaller, but strong enough to drive me to my knees.
“OCTAVIA!” I roar.
I surge to my feet and try to push my way towards the flames, but hands catch me from behind.
Isaak’s grip clamps around my torso and he drags me back. I struggle against him, twisting until he finally releases me, and then I stop abruptly at the sight of what the explosion has left behind.
“No. No, no, no,” I bellow, denial ripping inside me.
I take another step and look inside at what used to be her bed.
My knees give out beneath me.
This cannot be happening.
There is no way this is real. It has to be a nightmare, something I will wake from at any moment.
There is no world in which I am still breathing and she is not.
No.
This isn’t real.
“OCTAVIA!”