22. NIKOLAI
My phone buzzes on the dashboard of the car, and I snatch it up at once, glancing down at the message waiting for me.
Cleared the West side. No sign of his car here.
I grimace. No closer to finding the fucker, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to make it easy for him to run from me. I drop the phone into my pocket and reach for the coffee sitting in front of me, taking a long sip, though it tastes more like ashes in my mouth right now.
I’m telling myself that I need the caffeine to keep myself awake, but I know it has nothing do to with that. I couldn’t sleep now even if I wanted to, head overstuffed with all the thoughts of what Max could be doing to Andie.
I doubt he would have killed her—maybe I just don’t want to believe that I could have lost her, but surely, he must see that my father is too fond of her to be able to risk something like that.
If he takes her out, he’ll have to be the one to explain what happened to her, and I won’t hesitate in making it known that he was the one who took her from us.
But whatever he has planned for her….fuck, it could be so much worse than that.
It makes me sick to my stomach to think of what he might have in store for her.
She’s a strong woman, that much is obvious, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to be able to handle just anything that he throws her way. Especially now that she’s?—
Especially now that she’s pregnant. My mind hollows for a moment when I remember that aspect of all of this, the cold, hard shock of knowing that my child is a part of this too.
No matter how Andie feels about me, I know she would rather have me raising that baby than Max.
Not that I’m going to let him keep her locked up long enough to allow something like that, but still…
I have my men spread out across the city, after we tracked down the car that he used to drive down here and put out the license plate to pretty much everyone in New York.
I’ve made it clear that there’s a reward in it for anyone who wants to hand Max over to me, but I don’t know how much help that’s going to be.
If he already has Andie somewhere outside the city, I might not have the connections to ensure I can get hold of her again.
The thought makes my palms itch with an emotion I can’t quite name, the weight of it all more than I can take.
I sip the coffee again, as though more caffeine will go some way to soothing the turmoil within me right now.
I pull the car out again, looping around the block and back onto the street.
I’ve been trailing up and down the haunts I’ve showed Max on the rare visits he’s made to America.
I doubt he would have been stupid enough to take her to any of them specifically, but he can’t know this place well, and that limits everything he’s going to be able to get away with.
He knows as well as I do that knowledge is power, and if he can find somewhere he’s at least somewhat familiar with, he will have an easier job keeping me from digging him up.
No sign of his car yet. But it’s out there.
A dark blue rented vehicle—I called up the company who must have hired it out to him, told them it had been used in a crime, and they assured me they would do everything they could to track it down.
Seems like they don’t have trackers on all their vehicles, but they will want to make sure their product doesn’t wind up missing.
Just because they’re a legitimate business doesn’t mean they don’t have overlap with how I go about my work, right?
I scan the sidewalks around me, peering at the faces of everyone I pass, though none look familiar.
It’s early, early enough that the only people out on the road are a handful of joggers and a few overzealous office workers getting in before the sun rises to show their boss just how dedicated they are to the business.
A few of them notice the car slowing alongside them, and glance in my direction, but they don’t stick around long as they catch me peering past the tinted glass.
They hurry away, my dark circles and grim expression enough to warn them off.
All the bars I took Max to are shut, and as I circle around the parking lots out back, I see no sign of the deep blue vehicle he must have stuffed her into.
I can’t stop replaying that moment in my head, the second I saw her grabbed on the street.
I couldn’t see her face, but I can only imagine the terror she felt, how much she wished she could turn around and rush back to the house where I could keep her safe.
But I can prove it to her, can’t I? I can still show her that I mean it when I promised to keep her safe. To protect her, to love her. That’s what I said in my vows. And though I didn’t know I would need to prove them quite so soon after we were married, if this is what it takes, then so be it?—
My phone rings, and I snatch it up at once. “Hello?”
A smooth voice comes down the line. “Hello, Mr. Artesco?”
If enemies to lovers or fated mates is calling, there is no need to overthink it.
Look up Lokepub on Google and start browsing.
“Speaking.”
“The car that you believe was involved in a crime,” the woman tells me. “We have reason to believe that it’s at the Kruyff Heights apartment block. Do you know of anyone who lives there?”
My eyes narrow. Oh, I know someone who’s staying there, alright.
“Thank you,” I reply.
“Mr. Artesco, I would strongly advise that you leave police to manage this matter?—”
I hang up the phone. I have everything I need. All I can think about is her—Andie.
I pull up the map on the GPS, tapping the name of the apartment block into it swiftly and peering down at it for a moment. Only twenty minutes or so from here. I could call all of my men and tell them to get their asses over there, storm the place, kill anyone who stands in our way.
But I get the feeling I won’t need them. This is a family matter. And it should be dealt with the same way.
Does Max know that Andie is pregnant? I have no clue. But I know that I will do everything in my power to get my child out of there alive. The child that I know my father will cherish, the heir he has been waiting for.
But it’s more than just that. Andie—I need her.
I know I haven’t let her know that, but I do. Her knowledge, her wit, her self-sufficiency, she is everything I could have hoped for in a wife—a far cry from the dependent little socialite I know I would have ended up with if I had gone through with that marriage to Natalie.
Andie and I might not have been intended for each other. But on some level, if I were to believe in things like fate—I might think that the universe has brought us together because we provide something for each other that we both keenly need.
And if my brother thinks he can stand in the way of that, he has another thing coming.
I pop open the compartment next to the steering wheel, and my gun glints back at me, cruel, unyielding.
I know Max is not ready for the hell I’m about to rain down on his head.