Page 115

Story: All The Darkest Truths

The weight of his words hangs in the air as he meets my gaze. “This tablet is your lifeline, Vesper. To them. And to me. When you’re ready to make your move, you’ll use this to contact me.”

I clutch the tablet to my chest, as if I could somehow pull them through the screen and into safety.

“Remember, Vesper. Seventy-two hours. If Victor Petrov, his son, and Bianca still draw breath when that clock runs out, I will personally ensure everyone you've ever loved dies. Slowly. Painfully. Starting with your brother and ending with Alex Rafner.”

I clutch the tablet tighter. “I understand.”

“I hope you do.” He turns to face me. “This is your destiny, granddaughter. The restoration of the Vasilyev legacy. Once it's done, once you've fulfilled your purpose, they'll be free.” His lips curve into that terrible smile. “And you'll have served a greater purpose than your mother ever did.”

The comparison to my mother sends a chill through me. I wonder how many times he made similar promises to her, how many times he betrayed her trust.

Mikhail gestures to a guard standing silently by the door. “Bring the car around. Take my granddaughter back home.” He approaches me, placing his hands on my shoulders in a mockeryof familial affection. "I suggest you use your time wisely. And, don’t bother trying to run. There is no place on this Earth where I won’t be able to find you. I think I’ve proven that to be true already.

ALEX

Pain isa familiar friend by now, but the fear…that's the part that's killing me.

They shove me into the back of the SUV, my already battered ribs screaming in protest as I slam against the leather seat. The guard follows, jamming the barrel of his gun into my side just hard enough to make me wince. Unnecessary. Where the fuck does he think I'm going to run in this condition?

“Don't try anything stupid,” he grunts, as if I haven't heard that warning a dozen times already.

I say nothing, conserving what little energy I have left. My body is a catalog of injuries—three broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder they'd popped back in without anesthesia, split lip, bruised kidney. The list goes on. But it's not my physical state that has me spiraling into rage and terror as the vehicle pulls away from the Rossi Mansion.

It's Vesper. Standing there in her father's study, facing down the monster who I now know shares her blood.

Her grandfather. The fucking Collector is her grandfather.

The revelation still twists in my gut like a knife. How many times had I combed through her family history, searching for any connection, any leverage against The Collector? The answer had been hiding in plain sight all along. Her captor came from within.

The SUV lurches over a pothole, sending pain radiating through my chest. I bite back a groan, refusing to give my captors the satisfaction. The guard beside me smirks, enjoying my discomfort.

I need to think, to plan. Mikhail Vasilyev has just handed Vesper a death sentence. Kill Victor Petrov and his family, or watch everyone she loves die. The impossible choice.

But she's not alone in this. Not as long as I'm breathing. I may be a captive, but if she can figure out what I was trying to tell her, then she will have the keys to the entire fucking kingdom. With Talon, Oz, and Zaire at her side, it might be just enough to make the impossible, possible. Though I can’t help them directly, there’s one thing I can do.

I can keep her brother alive.

The SUV takes a sharp turn onto a gravel road. The place they took me from had asphalt. This isn’t where we came from.

“Where's Luca Rossi being held?”

The guard snorts. “Shut up.”

“Just wondering if we're neighbors,” I continue, keeping my tone casual despite the way my heart hammers against my broken ribs. “Been a while since I've had company.”

“I said shut up.” The guard jams the gun harder into my side.

I swallow a gasp, letting my head fall back against the seat. Worth a try. I need to know if Luca is at the same facility. If he is, there might be a chance...

My thoughts scatter as the vehicle takes another sharp turn, this time sending me sliding across the leather seat until I collide with the door. Pain explodes through my shoulder, but I grit my teeth against it. Focus, Rafner. Stay conscious.

Through the tinted windows, I catch glimpses of dense forest. We're heading somewhere remote. Not surprising for a man who specializes in making people disappear. The guard's phone buzzes, and he answers with a curt “Yes, sir,” before hanging up.

“Change of plans,” he announces to the driver. “Taking him to Facility B.”

My pulse quickens. Facility B. A designation implies multiple locations, multiple facilities where Mikhail keeps his “collection.” Which means Luca could be at Facility A, C, or God knows where else. The realization sinks like a stone in my gut. Finding him just got exponentially more difficult.

The SUV slows as we approach what appears to be an abandoned industrial complex, all concrete and rusted metal. The kind of place that's been forgotten by time and mismanaged municipal records.

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