Page 32

My heart stops when I hear Lilibeth's petrified scream cut through the call, and then everything goes silent.

“Beth! Beth! Talk to me, are you there?” I scream into the phone as fear grips every sense, but she never replies.

Fuck. What the hell just happened?

I tap frantically at my screen. When I found Lilibeth gone, I thought she must have pulled a stunt like the time she went shopping and tried to track her location, but she had covered her tracks by shutting off her GPS.

Fortunately, I have police-grade tracking equipment that enables me to hack into anyone’s location if they stay on the phone longer than thirty seconds.

Thank god I used the tracking system because the blinking dot on my screen shows me she’s at my cabin. Or was. The same cabin I first took her to bed in, the same cabin where I felt like I was the happiest man in the world.

Not relevant, I tell myself, leaving the walk down memory lane for another day. I need to know what happened. Need to know she’s safe.

But I also fear something bad has happened: that she’s been taken by intruders. Her scream, the way it shattered out of nowhere, tells me my instinct is probably on point. I have to rally the troops, our families, so I first call my associate, Petrov.

“Listen,” I tell him. “Lilibeth was at my cabin by the cliff, and I think something bad happened. Go out there right now, will you? Tell me what you find. Look for signs of who was there and report back immediately.”

“On it.”

I hang up and immediately dial Bogdan. When he answers, I don't waste time on greetings and ask him to bring the others down to my house right away. When I tell him it’s Lilibeth, he tells me they’ll be there immediately.

The next call makes me nervous. I have to call her brothers and the Zolotovs. I hang my head in shame before I dial Lion’s number. She was my responsibility. She was supposed to be safe under my roof, and I drove her away. Now, she’s in trouble because I couldn’t think before I spoke.

I square my shoulders and make the call. I’ll face whatever consequences might come my way, but my priority is getting Lilibeth back home safe. I don’t care if she never wants to speak to me again; I can’t bear the thought of one hair on her head being hurt.

“Letvin,” Lion says by way of greeting.

“I’m calling with bad news, Lion,” I say, trying to hold my voice steady, but it cracks. “We need help.”

“What happened?” he asks calmly.

“It’s Lilibeth. Sh…she’s gone missing.” My throat constricts around the words. “I'm assembling our troops. I need everyone on board. Call Nikolai. Tell the Zolotovs.”

A sharp intake of breath. “Where? When?”

“She was at my cabin when we were talking seven minutes ago. She screamed, then the call dropped. Please, Lion. Bring everyone.”

“I’ll be there,” he says, and his voice cracks too.

Less than half an hour later, my home office is packed with our families. My brothers have arrived—Bogdan, Faddey, Ilariy, Melor, Rurik. Even Nikandr heard the commotion and offered to help, though he’s been out of the family business for years now.

The Orlovs are here too—Lion standing with his cousins—Nikolai, Dima, Fedor, and Artyom.

Abram Zolotov stands in a circle with his—Vladimir, Denis, and Mark.

All of us wait with a quiet desperation, needing information before we can do anything.

“Are you sure there’s nothing we can do?” Lion asks, stepping closer.

“How?” I ask. “Her phone’s at the cabin.”

Just then, Petrov calls back. We all fall silent as I put the phone on speaker.

“She's not here, Boss.” Petrov's voice crackles through the speaker. “But someone was. I found muddy boot prints by the door of two different sizes.”

I clench my fist while across me, Nikolai pales, and Lion steps forward, closer to the phone.

Petrov continues. “So I hacked into the security cameras on the main road. Two black SUVs with Sokolov plates passed by half an hour ago. They were heading out, and we zoomed in through the windows. The bastards didn’t have tinted glass. She’s in there, Boss. So is Viktor.”

“Find those vehicles,” I say with urgency. “Get into Viktor's phone, his accounts, everything. I want his location stat.”

“Already working on it. Will call back.”

Lion steps forward, fury etched into the lines of his face. “That bastard's had it out for the Orlovs since our father cut him out of the St. Petersburg deal.”

“And he's hated me since I took over the northern shipping routes,” I add, my mind racing through possibilities. I watch Nikandr shift on his feet, knowing he feels responsible, too, because the Sokolovs know I hold them responsible for supplying Nikandr with drugs. But I don’t feel like embarrassing him in front of the Orlovs and Zolotovs.

My brothers immediately head down to coordinate the teams and round up the convoy. The Orlovs tell us they’ll meet us downstairs, and Nikandr goes with them to make sure every man is adequately armed.

The Zolotovs wait patiently by my side. I feel such fear, such rage, that I don’t even notice I’m shaking until Abram Zolotov strides over and places a hand of support on my shoulder, giving me a nod as if to say, Stay strong.

I nod back and try to quench the pain in my throat when Petrov calls back. “Sir, Sokolov has her at his old meat processing plant on the outskirts east. You know? The one that went down last night. The satellite images we received show that the convoy is parked behind the building.”

I ask for the coordinates, and then the Zolotovs and I rush downstairs to meet our small army and update them on the developments. We put on our tactical gear, and I pass along the instructions based on what I think.

“Lion.” I look at him. “Nikolai and your team head in from the west. My brothers and I go west. Zolotov’s go north. We block them in, okay? There’s no exit from the south.”

They all nod in agreement. I head into the garage, and to my surprise, Nikandr falls into step beside me.

“I'm coming with you,” he says with a finality that touches me.

“Fine,” I say, not wanting to argue. He’s showing up, which is something I wanted all along. We get in the car, and the driver follows the others up ahead.

As we move, the silence between Nikandr and me is tight and uncomfortable. Neither of us says the truth: She left because of what I said to him. On a certain level, I know Nikandr feels responsible, and I want to tell him it’s not his fault, but right now, I don’t know what the truth is.

All I know is that I’m an asshole for letting her hear, for convincing myself that I don’t love her and that she means nothing. If I can’t find her and tell her how I feel, if I truly never see her again, or if anything happens to her—No. I can’t let myself go into that dark, terrible place.

I’ll find her and bring her back. I’ll get on my knees and beg her forgiveness. I’ll spend every single day for the rest of my life convincing her of the truth: That I am a terrible fool who lied to himself. Who loves her with all his heart.

My hands tremble as these thoughts pass by, and I urge the driver to move faster.

“I’m going as fast as I can, Sir,” he replies.

I growl. It’s not fast enough.

Finally, Nikandr speaks out of nowhere.

“It's my fault.”

I glance at him sharply. “What are you talking about?”

His hands are restless in his lap. “Lilibeth. You said you married her because of me,” he says quietly. “Because of what I told you about her.”

“Nikandr,” I hiss at him. “I swear to you, I don’t care about picking a fight with you right now. I need to focus on bringing my wife back. Now’s not the time.”

“No, it is the only time,” he insists and turns to face me, and I'm struck by how clear his eyes are. No trace of the drug-hazed look that had become so familiar. “I lied to you about her, Agafon. And you've been treating her like shit because of it.”

I feel the blood drain from my face and my hands still from confusion, from rage, as though my body and brain are in shock. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

Nikandr rubs his hand over his face. “When we dated—when you found out I was seeing her and she broke it off with me and I said I was in hell because of what she did to me—well, I wasn't the victim.

I was already deep into the drugs, dealing with people I shouldn't have been dealing with. I liked that she was young and naive. She was so in love with me, or so I thought, and I used how easy she was to impress and manipulated her in the process.”

I feel ice forming in my chest. “Go on.”

I was possessive and controlling. When she tried to get me to adopt better patterns, I lashed out and often humiliated her in public.

I even tried to get her to use it with me.

She refused, and I threatened her. She threatened to scream, so I let her go.

I called her some nasty words, and I…” He sighs and rubs his hands over his eyes as though he wants to unsee his past. “I convinced myself I was the one hurting when I was the one who hurt her real bad, when she only tried to help me.

So I told everyone she'd broken my heart, played the victim.

I told you she was a manipulative bitch who'd used me and left me broken.

I listen to Nikandr's confession in stunned silence, each word he utters feeling like a punch to the gut. The image of Lilibeth, sweet and caring Lilibeth, being subjected to such cruelty makes my blood boil. How could I have been so blind to the truth?

The regret washes over me in waves, crashing against the walls I've built around my emotions.

Agafon continues.

“She didn't break me, Agafon. I was already broken, and I dragged her down with me. When she finally walked away, it was the sanest thing anyone in my orbit had done in years.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” My voice sounds distant to my own ears.