Chapter 51
Chapter Fifty-One
Poppy
Twenty-four hours and Benson, whoever that was, still hadn’t located Ivan.
Twenty-four hours and I didn’t know what to do.
In that full day, all I could do was think about everything I’d done wrong.
How I should have tried to talk to him. How I should have tried to figure things out.
He was gone, and it was all my fault. He was going to die, and I was going to have the guilt eat me alive for the rest of my life.
At least I knew that when I went to lay with Donovan Madden on our wedding night, I would slit his throat.
I’d never killed anyone before, and I certainly hadn’t thought about it, but as I lay awake thinking about whether Ivan was dumped somewhere, I knew I could do it to avenge him.
Because no matter what happened with my father. No matter what he did, I loved him. God, I loved him more than I thought possible. I’d never experienced anything that hurt so badly.
I didn’t eat, I didn’t sleep. I just stared down at my phone, wishing and praying that this elusive Benson fellow would call me, text me, or anything.
Don stayed on the couch, staring out the massive windows that took up the back wall.
He was like a statue; he didn’t move. He asked me several times to go over everything Donovan said to me.
I replayed the conversation over and over in my head.
I couldn’t think of anything else because all of this was my fault.
I should have been more careful. I should have tried harder to not push him away. I should have done more. My feelings were more than valid, but I should have let him explain. I should have heard him out, but instead, I’d locked myself away.
I laid my head down on my folded arms on the kitchen counter and replayed every moment because what if I never got another?
What if I couldn’t be angry with him again?
What if I couldn’t see him again? I would have to marry Donovan Madden no matter what, but the only thing that would have kept me going was knowing Ivan was out there somewhere, and he could be living a happy life.
Now? The thought of living in a world without Ivan Cristof was unbearable. Unthinkable. Unimaginable.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered to myself. “Ivan, I’m so sorry.”
Because the worst part wasn’t that he was gone. The worst part was that for the first time in my life, I knew what love felt like. And I’d only gotten to feel it for seconds.
Seconds.
But it was enough to damn me.
It was enough to break me. It was enough to tear me open and leave me raw, knowing I would never know it ever again. If Ivan was gone… there was no hope.
Alexei was the first to burst through the front door. His mother jumped from the couch and immediately rushed to his side. “Alexei! You could have waited until morning.”
He brushed his lips over her cheek in greeting before marching over to Don. “I wouldn’t dare wait until morning.”
Emeline wrung her hands together as he paced behind her son. “You just got home from your honeymoon!”
“And Carina is in labor.” He said it so nonchalantly that I almost missed it.
His mother stopped pacing and stared at me with wide eyes. She looked back at her son. “Is Audrey at the hospital with her?”
“Yes, that’s why we came home early, and good thing we did! Now Ivan is missing. What happened?”
Don looked over at me, and Alexei turned slowly to follow his line of sight. “What are you doing here?”
Emeline stepped in front of me. “She’s here because she needs someone to look after her and her little sister.”
“Is this all because of her?”
Don ignored the question. “Dimitri is on his way. He has an idea of where Ivan is, but he doesn’t want to go alone or guns blazing without having a plan.”
Alexei made a face. “Since when does Dimitri care about having a plan?”
Don shrugged. “He’s a politician now.”
Alexei sneered. “I always forget that little tidbit, even though he’s been doing this for so long.
” He turned his dark eyes back on me, and a shiver raced down my spine.
When he was with his wife, he was soft. When he was alone, he was a shark.
I could see that clearly now. He approached me like a predator—he was looking for weakness.
I held my head high; I’d faced off against worse.
I would continue to do so for the rest of my life.
Alexei was a good man, even if he was slightly terrifying.
“So what did you do? You were wrapped up in my brother at the wedding, and you thought your dear fiancé wouldn’t find out? ”
My lips twisted as guilt coated my insides. “Yes. I was naive to think I could have my cake and eat it too.”
He nodded once. “I’ve been there. We’ll get him out of this.”
Hope was a fickle friend of mine as of late. I wanted to believe him, but I wasn’t sure if I could. I wasn’t sure my heart could take any more.
Three hours later, with another brother added into the mix, and the phone in the middle of the coffee table rang. Dimitri answered on the second ring.
The elusive Benson’s voice came over the speaker. “I’ve been able to hack the cameras at the docks. That’s where they’re holding him. It’s not good.” Dimitri was swiping the phone off the table faster than I could blink.
“Send me a pin,” Dimitri barked. “One of my guys has been circling the docks all evening waiting for confirmation.”
Everyone snapped to attention. I watched as Alexei and Dimitri pulled guns from under their shirts and checked to make sure they were loaded before strapping them back in and heading for the door. Don stayed right where he was.
“This could be a trap,” Don looked over at Emeline and shook his head. “I would love to go to Ivan’s aid, but the ladies will need me to cover them here.”
Their mother didn’t even bother with arguing. “Take some of my men with you. They are more than capable.”
Each brother kissed their mother’s cheek as I began tying my shoes. I rolled my shoulders back and followed the guys to the elevator. Dimitri’s eyes narrowed, and Alexei let out a laugh that spoke volumes. “You would be collateral.”
“I don’t care,” I crossed my arms over my chest and got in the elevator as I waited for them.
Dimitri shook his head. “We really don’t have time to argue with her.”
Alexei rolled his eyes. “I’m not getting killed for this, by the way.”
***
The docks were dark—darker than I’d imagined.
Rows of decrepit warehouses sagged against the night sky, their patched-in windows reflecting nothing but shadows.
A few newer buildings stood scattered among them, out of place like teeth in a rotting jaw.
The scent of saltwater and diesel clung thick in the air.
I was wedged between two massive security guards in the backseat of the blacked-out SUV, practically smothered by their size and tension. I knew—knew down to my bones—that they weren’t going to let me step foot outside this vehicle.
But I didn’t care. I was here. My hands trembled in my lap, adrenaline buzzing under my skin like a live wire.
If I had to beg Donovan, plead with him, barter, sell my soul—I would.
If getting on my knees would save Ivan, I’d do it.
If screaming would get Donovan’s attention, I’d do that too. Whatever it took.
The SUV came skidding to a stop behind a stack of rusted shipping containers. Dimitri killed the lights with a flick of his wrist. The silence that followed was suffocating.
I took a deep breath as the brothers jumped out of the front seat, and I was still stuck between the men.
I glared at them both as they didn’t move a muscle.
I shook my head before I launched myself over the man to my right and grabbed the door handle.
He easily wrapped his huge arms around my waist and kept me from moving, but at least I’d been quick enough to get the door open.
Cold night air rushed in and wrapped around me.
I kicked. I twisted. I clawed.
“I am not staying in this car!” I hissed. The man didn’t even seem to hear me. I pounded on his chest with closed fists. “Let me out!”
Before I knew it, my body was tipping sideways, and I was falling face-first into the gravel and concrete below the SUV.
I shoved my hair out of my face and ignored the stinging in my palms as I jumped up from the ground and raced where the two Cristof brothers had disappeared to.
Except it didn’t matter because they were exiting just as I was getting close to the building.
My breath broke. My hands flew to my mouth as my knees almost gave out. They hauled his massive body between them, each gripping an arm over their shoulders—his feet dragging, his head lolling—blood streaking down his jaw and into the collar of his shirt.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. My gaze bounced between their grim faces and the shadowed warehouse behind them, where they had just pulled him from.
“Whoever did this to him is long gone,” Alexei grunted as he readjusted Ivan’s dead weight, voice low and furious. Dimitri muttered something back—sharp, vicious—but the ringing in my ears swallowed his words whole.
They moved quickly past me and toward the SUV.
The two guards who’d kept me trapped earlier now rushed to the back door, yanking it open and stepping aside to make room.
Dimitri and Alexei maneuvered Ivan into the seat with brutal efficiency, lowering him as carefully as they could for men operating on pure adrenaline.
I scrambled in behind him, climbing onto the seat and onto my knees, hovering over him.
My hands trembled so violently I could hardly touch him—but I forced myself to.
I passed my fingers over his blood-streaked cheek, his jaw, and his throat. His skin was hot. Too hot.
He looked… dead. He looked gone.
“This is all my fault,” I whispered. What did I do? What could I do? His face was swollen, one eye nearly sealed shut, his lips split, his shirt soaked in dried blood—front, sides, everywhere. His ribs rose in shallow, barely-there movement.
“Is he still bleeding?” My voice cracked so hard it barely came out.
Dimitri shook his head as he slammed his door shut and peeled out of the lot, tires squealing. “No. My guy got here just as everyone was leaving. He patched Ivan up the best he could.”
Patched?
Where?
How?
There was so much blood. Too much blood. My fingers slid over crusted and fresh smears alike, and I couldn’t even tell where one injury ended and another began.
Ivan’s head lolled toward me at a harsh angle, his breath wheezing unevenly through broken ribs. His wrists were torn raw from what I imagined were restraints, his knuckles were bruised and torn, and his entire torso was one horrible, mottled mass of purple and red.
I choked on a sob.
This was because of me.
This was all because of me.