Page 23 of The Last Hope

“Yeah, her fingers were broken, I think,” he replied, tossing the ice pack onto the marble table Elif had custom-made before sitting down.

She was here, in Russia, with her son and she was injured, her fingers broken. My jaw tightened as I massaged the back of my neck, pacing back and forth just as Grigori entered the room, hanging up his phone.

“Ali said Rasili left the party early, disappeared after we left, and his cousin took over hosting the guests,” he reported, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Probably off looking for his wife. I hope this doesn’t cause problems for us…”

“We need to find them,” I said without even thinking. My three brothers immediately looked at me, confused by my sudden concern.

“You’re not listening when I speak,moybrat. I say ‘no problems,’ and you say, ‘let’s go find Rasili’s wife !’ ” Grigori growled, throwing his hands up. “Now is not the time to piss off the Italians, Nikolaï!”

“Piss off the Italians ? That son of a bitch broke that woman’s fingers, Grigori ! And worse, I saw the marks on her arms last night. Elif did too…”

“I know,” my brother cut me off. “I’m not blind,moy brat. But that doesn’t mean her husband was the one who hurt her. Maybe she ran away to be with her lover. Maybe her marriage to Rasili was arranged, and she fled. There could be a hundred reasons ! Let’s not get involved !”

I shook my head, turning away. Do nothing ? Just because I didn’t want trouble. And then what ? Look at myself in the mirror and still call myself a man?

“Then don’t get involved if you don’t want to,moy brat. But I’m going to find them,” I said, grabbing my jacket from the chair and heading for the door. But Grigori grabbed my arm, stopping me.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Nikolaï,” he growled.

I wrenched my arm free, clenching my jaw, and pushed past him, heading for the exit, Sacha and Roman following close behind.

“Are you sure this is the address ?” Roman asked, his head poking between my seat and Sacha’s behind the wheel. We all stared at the rundown building, its flickering neon sign barely spelling out motel in Russian.

“My sources are reliable. They’re here, with the kid,” Sacha replied, rubbing his jaw. “They also sent me the fake identities they used to travel.” He handed me his phone.

I took it and examined the three photos with their corresponding names—Nina Lebedeva. I zoomed in on the picture. She looked much younger, barely in her twenties.

“Only one way to find out,” I said, opening my door and stepping out, my brothers followed as we made our way down the narrow alley leading to the motel entrance.

“Stay outside, Roman. Let me know if you see anything,” I ordered.

“No way,moybrat !I’m not missing Sacha getting his ass kicked again,” he retorted, but quickly fell silent under the dark looks Sacha and I shot him.

Sacha and I stepped inside and headed straight to the front desk.

“Good evening, miss. What’s the room number for Alina Lebedeva ?” Sacha growled, spitting out the name. The young girl—no older than eighteen—looked up from her phone and froze. Two well-dressed men like us must have been a rare sight around here.

“I… I can’t give you that information. It’s confidential and against—”

“Come on, don’t waste our time. You’re going to give me that number one way or another,” Sacha murmured menacingly, leaning over the counter.

The girl shrank into her seat, eyes wide. “203. They arrived a few hours ago,” she blurted out, pointing toward the staircase at the end of the hall.

“Thanks. Have a good night,” I said, striding forward without another glance.

I grimaced at the foul stench as we climbed the stairs to the second floor and stopped in front of Room 203, Sacha nodded at me, and I knocked. No answer. I knocked again, harder this time. A few seconds later, the door creaked open, revealing a small boy with green eyes. He looked up at us, his gaze darting between Sacha and me, then widened in recognition. He took a step back, trying to shut the door, but I stopped him.

“Rafael,Angelo mio, wait…” Selina Rasili appeared behind her son, her face bruised. Our eyes met, hers widening, while mine dropped to her bandaged fingers. Rafael rushed behind his mother, clutching her legs as she stepped backward, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

I stepped inside cautiously, hands raised in a non-threatening gesture, like trying to approach a frightened kitten. “I won’t hurt you,” I murmured.

Selina shook her head, eyes shining with unshed tears. She lifted her uninjured hand in a plea, stopping me in my tracks. “Please… don’t tell him. Please,” she begged, her voice trembling.

A heavy weight crashed onto my chest, stealing my breath. But worse than that, rage coiled deep inside me at the sight of her countless wounds.

“No, I won’t—”

“Selina !” a female voice shouted as a blonde woman burst through the door, panting. Her gaze landed on Selina and the child before shifting to me, then to my brother.