Dmitri
Chapter Twenty-Six
L ara had been absent for a tense twenty minutes, and the fundraiser was poised to commence.
I wasn’t entirely certain how well she knew the intricate layout of the museum, but there existed a possibility that she had lost her way in its maze-like corridors.
Politely excusing myself from the animated conversation, I navigated through clusters of elegantly dressed guests, their laughter and chatter a soft hum, and proceeded out of the opulent event room toward the expansive hallway where the restrooms were discreetly tucked away.
As I approached, I noticed a few women emerging gracefully from the ladies’ restroom. Their dresses shimmered under the soft lighting, and their perfumes lingered in the air like invisible veils. I stepped up to them with a hopeful smile.
“Excuse me, but I’m looking for my wife. You didn’t, by chance, see a woman inside with a striking red mask and a sleek black dress?”
The two women exchanged a look, their eyes communicating silently before they turned their attention back to me, scrutinizing me with an appraising gaze as if I were a specimen under examination, with no care for whether I was married or not.
It dawned on me, with a sudden clarity, that these women might have been escorts rather than the spouses of gentlemen attending the event.
“There is no one else inside, but if you’re looking for some fun, we can help you with that,” one of the women proposed, her voice silky, while the other gently placed her hand on my chest, a touch that felt both presumptuous and intrusive.
“Thanks for the offer, but I will have to pass,” I politely declined, my voice calm yet hurried as I frantically retrieved my cell phone from my pocket, my fingers dancing over the screen to pull up Stepan’s number.
“Do you have eyes on Lara?” I queried urgently as I retraced my steps back to the event room, my phone pressed tightly against my ear, the pressure grounding me.
“No. She hasn’t approached the front exit doors,” he confirmed, his voice steady but unhelpful.
“Keep me posted if you see her.” I ended the call swiftly and immediately opened the group text for the Knights, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest.
ME: Lara has gone MIA. Do any of you have eyes on her?
ALEXEI: My sights are on Angelo Balestrini. No sign of Lara near him.
NAZAR: Looking at Museum CCTV footage. Last seen going into ladies’ restroom. Are you sure she isn’t still there?
ME: Already checked.
I hammered out my response with increasing urgency, the worry expanding rapidly within me like an inflating balloon, threatening to burst.
MAXIM: The perimeter shows no signs of movement.
ISAAK : Same here.
My phone buzzed sharply, a call cutting through my escalating anxiety.
“ Pakhan . We have Andrei. Where do you want us to take him?” Yuri’s voice crackled through the phone, the faint sound of Andrei’s muffled cries echoing in the background like a distant, haunting melody.
“Take him to the mansion. Put him in one of the cells. Don’t touch him unless you have to.” I commanded, my voice cold and decisive, before ending the call. I swiftly typed out a message to the Red Knights, my fingers dancing over the keys with precision.
ME: Only one person could have taken her. If not Angelo, then Giovanni. Be prepared to move.
RED KNIGHTS : We will be ready
I closed the conversation with a feeling of urgency coursing through my veins and opened the app designed to track Lara’s movements through the discreet tracker I had injected into her when I first abducted her.
The little red dot blinked steadily on the screen, an unyielding beacon in the digital landscape, but its location made no sense.
Why would she have returned to the mansion?
The urgency to reach Giovanni was overshadowed by the pressing need to get to Lara. I quickly sent the Red Knights a brief text to inform them of her location before calling Stepan to bring the car around.
“Dmitri,” a voice shouted my name, cutting through the air like a knife as I hurried toward the exit door. “Dmitri. Stop.”
I halted abruptly, my footsteps echoing in the hallway, and turned to face the source of the interruption. Angelo stood before me, his presence commanding, with Giovanni standing resolutely by his side.
“Where is Lara?” Angelo demanded, closing the gap between us with a determined stride. “I thought we had a deal.”
“Lara is my wife. Did you honestly think I would give her to you?” I retorted sharply; my voice laced with anger and conviction as I noticed Stepan approaching from behind them.
“She is my sister. Don’t you think she has a right to know who her family is?” Angelo pointed between himself and Giovanni, his gesture emphasizing the familial bond they claimed.
The truth of his words sank in, heavy and undeniable. After discovering that it was my father who had orchestrated the raid that led to the death of my mother and sister, I realized he was right. How could I deny Lara the knowledge of her family, of the truth?
“Under one condition,” I conceded, my voice firm yet yielding to reason.
“What condition?” Giovanni inquired, his eyes fixed on me with a mix of curiosity and determination.
“You will only see her at my home, under my protection,” I advised, drawing the line firmly, ensuring Lara’s safety while acknowledging the ties that bound us all.
“Deal.”
Angelo and Giovanni followed closely at my heels as we exited the grand museum.
We stood on the wide stone steps, the cool breeze rustling the leaves of the nearby trees, as we awaited Stepan to bring the sleek, black limousine around.
The air was thick with anticipation, and I could feel the weight of the secret I had yet to reveal to Lara.
I hadn’t yet divulged the true identities of Angelo and Giovanni.
My heart was heavy with the fear that once I told her she was a Balestrini, not a Zhukov, she would despise me even more.
The thought gnawed at me as I watched the limo glide smoothly to a stop in front of us.
~***~
Upon arriving at the mansion, I directed Stepan to escort Angelo and Giovanni to my study while I headed upstairs in search of Lara.
I was certain that our bedroom would be the only sanctuary she might retreat to.
Questions swirled in my mind about her sudden departure from the fundraiser and how she managed to slip away unnoticed.
As soon as I crossed the threshold into our bedroom, an unsettling feeling gripped my heart.
A sense of dread loomed, yet I resisted, accepting the gnawing fear that she might be gone.
I urgently made my way to the bathroom and swung open the door, only to find it empty.
I then moved to the closet, pulling the door wide, but again, no sign of Lara.
Desperation mounting, I reached for my cell phone and activated the app that tracked her location.
The screen insisted she was here, right in front of me.
Panic surged through me as the grim realization of her actions set in.
I tore through her side of the closet, flinging garments aside in a frantic search for the small tracker meant to ensure her safety.
My worst suspicions were confirmed when I discovered it nestled within the pocket of one of her dresses, accompanied by a letter opener.
“Lara, what have you done?” I cried out in anguish, collapsing to my knees, the agony of her absence cutting so deep it felt like my very soul was being ripped apart.
Consumed by my torment, I hadn’t noticed Stepan’s quiet approach behind me. “Dmitri,” he spoke softly.
“She’s gone,” I choked out, displaying the small device before clenching it desperately in my hand.
“Dmitri, you can still find her,” he assured me, helping me to my feet with a firm hand. “I wouldn’t be a good friend and Brigadier if I didn’t have a backup plan.”
Confusion clouded my thoughts as I watched him retrieve his cell.
“When you asked me to collect Lara’s engagement ring from the jeweler, I took the liberty of having a tracker discreetly embedded between the stone and the mounting. As long as she’s still wearing it, we can pinpoint her location,” he explained, offering a glimmer of hope.
I had never kissed a man before, aside from the innocent pecks shared with my father as a child and then again upon his death, but at that moment, a surge of emotion drove me to press my lips against Stepan’s.
The warmth of the unexpected connection lingered as we both focused our attention on his phone.
On the screen, an ominous red dot blinked steadily on the app, marking her location with a foreboding sense of urgency.
We swiftly exited the bedroom, our footsteps echoing down the wooden staircase, and made our way to the study.
There, Angelo and Giovanni awaited our arrival, their expressions as tense as the situation demanded.
It was clear that rescuing her was a mission that required the combined effort of all of us.
My mind seethed with anger as I thought of the one responsible—my own fucking uncle, the man who had betrayed me from the beginning.