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"You fucking cunt."

He slapped me again.

Then reached for his belt. "Time to teach you a lesson."

CHAPTER 31

PAVEL

Ithought I knew the limits of my rage. I thought I understood how hot the fires in my soul could burn and how cold my blood could run.

Then my phone rang in the middle of a meeting with Artem and Gregor, and everything I thought I knew about fury shattered into a thousand pieces.

"Boss—" The voice was breathless, panicked. Kirill. One of my most trusted men. The man I'd personally assigned to shadow my wife.

I held up a hand, silencing Artem mid-sentence as he outlined our expansion into the docks. Gregor's eyes snapped to mine, reading the shift in the room like the predator he was.

"Where is she?" Three words. Ice-cold delivery. But inside, my blood was already turning to liquid fire.

"Police station on Hayes Street. Boss, there were twelve of them, maybe more. They were ready for us, armed and?—"

"You let them take her." Not a question. A death sentence.

"We tried to stop them. There was almost a shootout in the middle of the street, but she—she ordered us to stand down. Your wife took control and?—"

I was already moving, chair scraping against marble as I stood. My brother and Gregor were on their feet a heartbeat later, reading my body language like a battle plan.

"Since when do my men take orders from anyone but me?" My voice was deadly quiet, but the rage underneath was a living thing, clawing at my chest.

"She's strong, boss. Stronger than we expected. She saw the situation was about to go to hell and she prevented a bloodbath. But they have her, and I don't know why, and I?—"

"Shut up." I cut him off, my free hand already reaching for the gun holstered under my jacket. "Get back to the penthouse. Now."

I ended the call and looked at Artem and Gregor. Artem's jaw was tight, Gregor's hand already moving toward his own weapon.

"Los Infideles?" Artem asked.

"Don't know. Don't care." I was stripping off my jacket, removing the shoulder holster. Going into a police station armed like this would be stupid. The ankle piece would have to do. "Someone took my wife."

The words tasted like acid in my mouth. My wife. The woman who'd become my entire fucking world without me even realizing it was happening.

Gregor was already pulling out his phone. "I'll call Kostya, get him down there with the legal team."

"No time." I was moving toward the door, my brother and Gregor flanking me like we were going to war. Because we were. "I want her back. Now."

The elevator ride to the garage felt like an eternity. My hands were shaking—not from fear, but from the effort it was taking not to put my fist through the metal walls.

"Pavel." Artem's voice was calm, measured. The voice he used when I was about to do something spectacularly violent and stupid. "We need to think this through."

"No." I stepped out as the doors opened, heading straight for the Range Rover. "We need to get my wife back before I burn that entire fucking precinct to the ground."

Gregor slid into the driver's seat without being asked. He knew better than to let me behind the wheel right now. Artem climbed into the passenger seat, already dialing numbers.

"Kostya? Yeah, it's Artem. Hayes Street precinct. Now. Bring everything you've got."

The entire ride to the station, I thought about what they could be doing to her, why they would have her. We had no issues with the local police. To the best of my knowledge, there were no open investigations.

Even if there were, my family was well above their fucking pay grade.