Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Zahkar
Itap the pen on the desk repeatedly, every muscle pulled taut and aching from being stiff since Alyona went off the grid sixty-six hours ago. Since it feels like my shirt is strangling me, I unbutton a couple of the buttons and blow out a breath.
“You’re driving me insane,” Rodion groans, rubbing scruff that’s grown along his jaw while he watches the home monitors where Roza is playing with the new nanny we hired.
She’s a sixty-year-old former teacher with over a decade of child-minding experience and a recommendation list as long as my arm.
Her family has a background in farming, zero criminal records, not even a parking ticket.
Mrs. Potts is a damn saint, but Rodion still doesn’t fully trust anyone to watch our kid.
“I’ve always driven you insane. What’s new?” I say with a light shrug, trying to mask my own rising anxiety. Restless energy surges through me and I can’t sit still. I’m driving myself insane. “I think we should be at home and not stuck in this office.”
He glances around, taking in the boxes by the desk and the stack of paperwork I still need to go through, then exhales sharply, blowing a frustrated breath through his teeth.
“We agreed to finish the preparations for the launch. Plus, we have the security cameras set up at home, so we can keep an eye out for her if she shows up.”
I shake my head, feeling the weight of worry simmer in my chest. “It just feels so wrong to be here, doing mundane shit, that we pay enough people to do for us, while she’s out there somewhere, alone, and we have no idea if she’s safe.
” The frustration gnaws at me, amplifying my need to be wherever the fuck she is.
“You were the one who insisted we should trust her,” he remarks, his expression turning steely as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Since when do you listen to me?” I mutter, a sulky tone creeping into my voice.
I crumple a piece of paper in my hand and fling it toward the bin, watching it miss and land on the floor instead.
Damn this woman. She’s got me fifty shades of fucked up.
“Always,” he shoots back, a scoff escaping his lips. “I always listen to you.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t have.” I stretch my back to ease the tension that has settled there.
My gaze drifts toward the flyer we had designed for this weekend.
It’s sleek and striking, more like an elegant invitation than a simple advertisement, printed on rich black cardstock and embellished with gold lettering.
Apparently, old-school methods are still the best way to spread the word, along with the ad placements we’ve sunk a shit ton of money into.
Rodion gets to his feet and approaches my desk, spreading his hands on it and leaning in close to my face. He smells good and I miss him, but I can barely sleep, hardly eat, and use all the energy I can muster to try and keep a calm facade for Roza. My dick is on a hiatus until Alyona is back.
“We did everything we could to locate her, Z," he says, frustration evident in his voice.
"Her phone is off, and her passport hasn't been used, neither in her new name nor her real one. There have been no bank withdrawals or credit card activities. The mall cameras lose track of her once she reaches the parking lot. We have nothing.”
“I know this.” I throw the pen across the desk, and it clatters against an empty glass. “We have six hours,” I state, checking the clock again.
“Abram is under threat of death to locate her and not go to Ven or our father. He will find her this time.”
“Or she’ll keep her promise and return home,” I say, hope flickering limply in my chest like a flame under the pressure of a downpour.
“They will want to see me,” a voice says from down the hall. “Let me through.”
I roll my eyes and Rodion curses under his breath.
“There you are,” Vika says, walking into our office like she has an invite. “Where is Ally?”
Inhaling the patience I need to deal with this fucking woman, I groan. “What the fuck do you want?”
“Rude.” She places a hand to her chest in fake offense. “Is that a baby?” She points her manicured finger at the monitor which shows Roza now having her dinner.
“No, it’s a dog, Of course it’s a baby,” I snap.
“Whose baby are you watching? You know that’s creepy right?”
“Are you for real?” Rodion asks in a tone deceptively even, but the undercurrent of annoyance is there. “You don’t recognize your own maid-of-honor’s child?”
Pursing her lips, she waves a dismissive hand. “Babies all look the same.”
So do bugs. “What do you want?” Rodion asks with a tight smile, but I know he’s on the verge of snapping her neck.
“A-L-L-Y.” She spells out the name and elongates her face like he’s a dumbass.
Yeah well, we want her too, bitch.
“She’s not here.” I wave my hand to the door for her to leave, but apparently, she’s fucking stupid, because she has the audacity to roll her eyes at me.
“Where is she? Her phone is off, and you didn’t give me your address.”
“And you’re never getting it,” Rodion barks at her.
She flashes him an icy smile. “I need her to try on her dress. You know how women’s hips get after having children. Normal sizes need altering.”
“Alyona’s hips are fucking perfect,” I growl.
Holding up her hands she raises a brow. “I didn’t say they weren’t.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder and smirks.
Bitch.
Looking at her nails, she muses, “She also missed Jeremiah’s funeral.”
That gets my attention.
“They buried him?” Rodion mutters more to himself than to her.
“Of course they didn’t bury him.” Her tone drips with amusement. “There wasn’t much left to bury, so they opted for a wake instead.” She grimaces at the memory, rolling her eyes. “Ally didn’t miss anything. It was incredibly dull, but I felt obligated to go for Maddox’s sake.”
I can feel my brother’s glare on Vika without even turning to look.
He’s seething. Hadn’t she bitched out Alyona for claiming that the drama surrounding Jeremiah and Adam’s controversy was overshadowing her wedding?
And here she is, casually attending his wake as if it’s just another social gathering.
“Are you on drugs?” I ask, my nostrils flaring. I’m over this shit.
She swipes a hand across her nose, her eyes widening in surprise. Checking her hand for any powder, she replies, “What? No! Why would you ask that?”
Oh for fuck’s sake.
Pushing to my feet, I ask curtly, “Can you fuck off now?” Grabbing her wrist firmly, I shove her toward the exit.
“Wait,” she protests, pinning her hands against the door frame to prevent me from pushing her further. Like a fucking child. “I need to tell Ally that Adam is out.”
This time, my eyes fly to Rodion’s. “What the hell? You couldn’t have led with that?”
As if on cue, my phone starts ringing.
Releasing Vika, I answer her brother's call, “Viktor?”
“Can you come to my apartment?”
Viktor’s place is much like the man himself. Expensive furnishings, muted tones and clean, too clean. A female wearing nothing but faint scars over her pale flesh greets us at the door and is casually twirling a strand of dark hair around her finger.
“He’s in his office,” she informs us, pointing at a room at the end of a corridor while sashaying down the opposite direction toward a naked man, who grabs her up and disappears.
“I hope this isn’t what he wanted us to come over for,” I say, nudging Rodion’s shoulder playfully.
His soft chuckle offers little reprieve from the gloom and doom we've been living in for the past three days. He leads me down the hallway toward Viktor’s office, the soft humming of voices coming from inside. Rodion raps his knuckles against the door, and Viktor’s voice commands, “Come in.”
As we step inside, the atmosphere shifts back to solemn.
Viktor sits behind his large desk, and he's not alone.
Across from him, a man in ill-fitting slacks and a cheap, wrinkled shirt occupies a chair.
Sweat stains spread from under his armpits and make my nose wrinkle.
He gives us a hesitant nod, his eyebrows are wild and bushy, almost as if they are trying to escape his face.
“Rodion and Zahkar Vetrov, meet Police Chief Stanton,” Viktor introduces us.
“Fucking hell. How many more of you are there?” Stanton scoffs, his scrutinizing gaze traveling from the tips of our boots to our hairlines.
“Good-looking bunch, aren’t ya?” He stands up and offers me his hand.
His grip is clammy, and there’s a darkness in his eyes that I recognize all too well. I don’t like this man.
“Stanton has news about Adam Cunningham,” Viktor announces, a serious look crossing his face as he gestures toward a black leather sofa in the corner of the room.
Rodion settles onto the sofa, while I opt to lean against the armrest.
“Like I was telling your…” Stanton trails off, waving his hand toward Viktor, “brother? Cousin?”
“Friend,” Viktor corrects him, a hint of irritation in his voice as he leans back in his leather chair, placing his arms on the rests.
“Right, your friend. Well, as I was telling Tanner earlier, we’ve released Adam Cunningham from custody. We simply didn’t have enough evidence to justify holding him any longer.”
“How can that be possible? You pulled a body from the trunk of his car.” I cross my arms, dissecting this prick with narrowed eyes.
Shifting on his feet, he turns away from my glare.
“He had an alibi for the alleged time of death and confirmed his brother confessed to the murder before then going on to kill himself.” He points a small, fat finger at me.
If I didn’t think it would taste like salt and his ass crack, I may have bitten it off. “Dead men can’t argue their innocence.”
“It’s a clever angle. Makes sense,” Viktor says.
Stanton nods. “It’s the angle we’re happy with if we get to close the case. We have enough on our plates with the Doll Killer at large.”
“Doll Killer?” Rodion enquires, folding his ankle over his knee.
“A psychopath is dropping bodies. Dresses them up like dolls. Quite fascinating actually,” Viktor muses.
“Maybe Adam is this Doll Killer?” I offer.
“Different M.O. but we looked into it, trust me.” Stanton glances over at Viktor. “Jeremiah Cunningham killed the woman. We think she was probably a runaway. Case closed.”
We should have anticipated this scenario. Lucky for us, we thought he’d buy his way out of it and had already put a plan into action.
“How much did he pay you to help make this go away?” Rodion asks, giving zero fucks who this man is.
Tugging up the waist of his slacks, Stanton grumbles, “That’s highly illegal and an insulting accusation.”
“We would have paid you more to charge him,” I tell him, flexing my hands. I need to hit something.
“It’s done. If another body was to show up under similar circumstances, then who’s to say if he’ll be able to sweep that one under the rug, but for now, he’s a free man.” Saluting Viktor, he adds, “Now, I came here as a courtesy but it’s my day off and I have a rabbit to chase.”
When the front door closes behind Stanton, I turn my attention to Viktor. “What’s his deal?”
“Trust me,” he says, getting to his feet and rounding his desk to close his office door. “You don’t want to know the answer to that question.”
“It can’t be any darker than the shit you’re into,” I tease. But his face remains stoic.
“Believe me, I’m a kitten compared to that man.” He retakes his position at his desk.
Intriguing. No one would ever call Viktor a kitten, his bloodlust is more shark like.
“So, we go to plan B with Adam,” Rodion announces, fiddling with his phone.
“Plan B?” Viktor enquires.
“Business. We show him that he may be Billy Big Balls in his small circle, but we’re titans and our reach far outstretches his.”
“Do you think he will actually come after you? He couldn't possibly know that the body in his trunk is connected to you two.”
“He suspects that Alyona is involved in some way,” I reply. “He’s been calling her.”
Resting his chin on his hand he says, “He won’t appreciate you attacking his businesses.”
“And we give a shit, why?” Rodion growls.
“You misunderstand. I believe he will back down if you demonstrate how dominant the Vetrov name is in the circles where he’s trying to assert his influence. I’ll make some calls.”
“Z,” Rodion says my name with an urgency that makes the hairs stand up all over my body. He holds up his phone. “A car just pulled up at our gate.”