10. Rashid
RASHID
I sit motionless in the warm leather seat, watching through the side mirror as Emory hurries down the sidewalk.
My cum is still leaking down her thighs and her lips are still swollen from my mouth. Yet she walked away from me like I'm nothing. The rejection burns like acid in my veins.
Rain starts falling harder, drumming against the roof, and it's perfect cover for what I'm about to do.
“Stop here,” I tell my driver as he rounds the corner. “Keep the engine running. Do not move until I say.”
He meets my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Yes, sir.”
I step out into the downpour, closing the door against the rain, and pursue her again.
This time at a run.
Cold rain instantly soaks my shirt, but the fire in my blood keeps me warm.
She thinks I'm gone, but I'll never be gone. And if I make my move quickly, no one will ever be the wiser.
I round the corner and follow her at a careful distance, staying on the opposite side of the street, using parked cars and shadows for cover.
The rain masks every footstep and she never looks back.
She clutches her coat around her body like armor, head down, rushing toward whatever pathetic life she thinks will protect her from me.
My shoes splash through puddles, but the sound disappears under the roar of the storm as she turns toward a squat brick apartment building with a single flickering bulb over the entrance.
It's one block from where I was just parked, and she was foolish enough to lead me right here. I know it's the friend's house, probably the one who had the kid that day.
"Emory, you're a foolish girl," I grumble under my breath as I cross the street and melt into the darkness beneath a closed laundromat awning, lighting a cigarette. Smoke curls up and vanishes in the rain as I wait.
Ten minutes pass. Fifteen.
Then the door opens again.
Emory emerges carrying the boy, bundled in a bright blue coat with the hood pulled up.
He clings sleepily to her neck, arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders.
My jaw clenches hard at the sight, though this time there's a softness to my edge, rubbed down by sexual afterglow.
My dick still pulses with her warmth, but I have to do this.
I drop the cigarette and crush it under my heel as I start moving forward, rain streaming down my face. I could reach them before she even realizes?—
But two men in dark jackets step out from a black SUV parked halfway down the block and I recognize the taller one instantly—thick neck covered in tattoos, shaved head.
He's marked by Gusev, which means they're following her too. A third man is already behind the wheel, engine purring to life.
My blood turns to ice, then instantly to lava as the tattooed one grabs Emory’s arm before she can react.
She stumbles, clutching the boy tighter, but she's no match for them. I want to run out there and grab her myself, but she'd see this as a rescue and they'd see me as an enemy. I'm already their enemy.
I can't let them know I’m following her too.
“What are you doing?” Her voice cuts through the rain with sudden panic. “Get off me!”
The boy starts to cry as the second man moves in fast, wrenching Lex from her arms while the tattooed one clamps a hand over Emory’s mouth.
She fights like a wildcat, kicking and twisting, but they're bigger, stronger, and clearly prepared.
The driver jumps out, opening the back door of the SUV and they shove her inside first, then the screaming child.
This is a kidnapping. Gusev men are taking what is mine.
Rage explodes through every nerve in my body, but I force myself to stay hidden.
Exposing my hand to these low-level players will only tip off Gusev that I'm aware of what he's doing.
I can't play knight in shining armor with her, and I can't even give them a hint that the child is mine.
I'm forced to watch as they squeal their tires, pulling out, then I break into a full sprint to make it back to my car.
“Move!” I shout as I yank the door open and throw myself inside. “They took her! Gusev bastards just snatched Emory and the boy! Follow that black SUV—now!”
My driver doesn’t hesitate. The car surges forward, tires screaming. “Which way?”
“Left at the end of the block—they just turned!” Rain hammers the windshield so hard the wipers struggle. I lean between the seats, eyes locked on the distant red taillights vanishing into the storm. “Faster. Run every light. I don’t care who sees us.”
The chase ignites and we barrel down the narrow street, hydroplaning over deep puddles.
The Gusev SUV is already two blocks ahead, weaving aggressively when my driver pushes the sedan harder, engine roaring.
Horns blare as we cut through intersections.
Rain whips sideways, making it so difficult to see I can feel him hesitating and wanting to slow down.
“They’re heading toward the river district!” my driver yells. “They know these streets.”
“Then stay on them!” I snarl, gripping the headrest until my hands hurt. My mind races. Why would Gusev men kidnap Oleg’s own daughter and grandson? Internal power play? Someone inside the family turning on him?
Emory’s face flashes in my memory—flushed and moaning just minutes ago, her pussy clenching around my dick as she came undone.
She's mine.
That boy will be mine.
No one takes what belongs to Rashid Krasnov.
We gain ground on a long straightaway.
The SUV cuts sharply right into an alley.
We follow, our car scraping brick on both sides, sparks flying. Trash cans explode against buildings before the alley spits us out onto a wider road near the docks.
My driver floors it and we close the distance to thirty yards, twenty, fifteen.
I reach under my jacket for my pistol, ready to shoot out their tires the second I have a clean angle, but the Gusev driver pulls a brutal maneuver—hard brake, then a sudden left across three lanes.
A delivery truck swerves to avoid them and glides through the space between us, nearly crushing our front end.
My driver yanks the wheel, tires screeching in protest, and we skid sideways, fishtailing wildly on the flooded road before regaining control.
By the time we straighten out, the SUV has disappeared.
“Find them!” I roar, punching the dashboard, cracking the vinyl. “Circle the block—every alley, every underpass. They can’t have gone far!”
I'm livid, every nerve ending frayed at the idea that Gusev has taken Emory and the child.
This was my play. I had no clue they were watching her too, and now she's just gone?
We hunt like wolves for the next twenty-five minutes.
My driver weaves through flooded lots, dead-end service roads, and narrow passages between warehouses.
The relentless rain never lets up and every shadow looks like their SUV.
Every distant taillight raises my pulse, only to disappoint.
I slam my fist into the seat repeatedly. “How the fuck are they this good?"
“They’re using the storm and the river district’s layout, boss.” My driver's voice is shaky. “Multiple escape routes, covered garages, probably switched vehicles. They were ready for pursuit.”
I sit back, breathing hard, soaked clothes clinging to my skin.
The afterglow of fucking Emory is long gone, replaced by pure, murderous fury.
She was just in my reach, and I let her get away because I got greedy.
I thought it would be simple, that there would be no complications and now she's just gone again.
I pull out my phone with shaking fingers and dial my most trusted lieutenant, Igor.
He answers instantly. “Rashid.”
“Listen to me. Gusev men just kidnapped Emory and the boy right in front of me,” I say and my voice is hoarse. "I want every street camera and Ring doorbell up on my computer when I get home. Get tech on it. No one sleeps until I know where they took her."
"On it, boss," he says and then hangs up the phone.
I pound the dash one more time as the driver pulls back onto the street. "Take me home," I order, realizing the chase is over for now. But I will find her, and when I do, Gusev will pay for more than just stealing my drugs.
He took my child and his mother. And he's going to regret it.