Page 52 of Claim Me (Dmitriyev Bratva #2)

“Marissa!” I yelled, but there was too much noise including several people shrieking.

Exasperated, I pushed my way inside, fighting even harder than before.

It was too fucking dark. The electrical system had been tampered with, leaving the back in shadows.

The yellow light provided from the generators did little more than provide an eerie glow.

“What the fuck?” Alexsey roared.

“Check the back entrance. Go down that hallway. See if she made it outside.” Nothing was going to stop me.

Alexsey moved in the other direction while I scanned the people, hoping for any sign of her.

“Where the hell did she go?” Mikhail snarled.

“They fucking took her. I know they did.” After pushing through more musicians, I was able to check every room, smashing open doors when they weren’t already open.

There was no sign of her.

I kept looking, calling out her name every few seconds. The roses I’d seen in her arms caught my eye. Something made me head toward them, lifting the bunch into my arms. I didn’t need to take a whiff to know a toxin had been activated.

“What the hell is that goddamn smell?”

“A nerve agent. They want her out cold and completely immobile.” I tossed the roses, hissing before throwing myself back into the corridor.

The fuckers hadn’t taken her out the back door where everyone was heading. “They’re trying to get her out another way.”

“I’ll check with the soldiers. They’re blocking every entrance.” While Mikhail seemed so certain they’d never get her away from here, I knew with the chaos it was definitely possible.

I took off jogging down the hallway, now unhindered by others. A noise caught my attention, someone hugging the wall and stumbling forward. She had her head cradled in her hand, blood streaming between her fingers.

As soon as she lifted her head, I rushed toward her. She’d been beaten against the side of the head with a weapon. “Teresa. Where’s Marissa?”

“They took her.” She clung to me, her mouth twisted in terror.

“Who? Did you see them?”

“Yes.” She nodded, moaning and falling against me. “Joseph.”

“What? Who the hell is Joseph?”

“He’s a guy who plays cello. He had a crush on her. He’s been watching her. He spoke… Like you.”

“What do you mean like me?” As her eyes started to close, I snarled. “Teresa, her life is in grave danger. What do you mean like me?”

“Russian,” she whispered and slumped against me.

“Fuck.”

“What is it?” Mikhail asked.

“Inside help. Get her to safety. A kid took her. He’s Russian.”

He shook his head, taking her into his arms. “A Russian kid? What the hell are you talking about? Vladimir doesn’t have a second son. Rurik has none.”

“I was right about an inside job. Only it was right here inside the symphony. We need to find this kid. Now.”

“Shit. Be careful.” Mikhail shook his head as he lifted and cradled Teresa.

Careful wasn’t something I could do. I would find Marissa. As soon as I did, I would kill everyone involved.

No one dared touch someone I cared about.

I rushed down the hall, pushing my way into every room until I noticed an exit sign. As soon as I was close, I threw myself at the door, bursting into an area housing dumpsters and concrete ramps. A fucking loading area that hadn’t been seen on the map.

Fuck.

As I heard sounds, I pulled my weapon into my hand.

A car was rolling down the space between the long building and a fence on the other side.

I took off running, keeping the weapon in the air.

The driver obviously saw me, flooring the accelerator.

I gave it everything I had, the barrel of the weapon pointed toward them, but with the possibility she was inside, I couldn’t risk firing.

The driver made it to the end, making a hard swing to the left.

And disappearing.

I raced to the end of the main building, my weapon still firmly planted in my hand. As I watched the large vehicle speeding off, I slowly lowered my gun.

Footsteps sounded only seconds later, Mikhail and two of our soldiers joining me. He said nothing as he flanked my side, staring off into the distance as I was doing.

“We’re going after them,” I growled. Before I had a chance to rush toward our vehicles, he pulled me by the arm.

“As I said before, we need to be careful. We need to lay out a strategic plan. Anything less and they will kill her. Right now, Marissa is useful collateral. Any attempt at getting her back with force before we’ve thought this through will end in disaster.”

I understood what my brother was saying.

Hell, I’d warned him the same way he was doing with me when the Irish had attacked, almost taking the life of the woman he now cherished.

Yet when it was someone I cared about, a bright, beautiful, and innocent girl who’d simply been trying to live out her dream, everything was different.

No longer would I accept contractual methods of handling business.

This meant war.

As I slowly turned to face him, I could tell by the look in his eyes he was surprised. Maybe at my determined expression. Or perhaps from the fact I was ready to challenge him at all. He was the Pakhan, someone I was supposed to respect, never questioning his judgment.

Yet this was personal.

“Make no mistake, brother. I don’t care what I need to do. I will find her. I will rescue her. And I will hunt down all those responsible if it’s the last thing I do on this earth.”

I skirted around him, taking definitive strides toward the building. I might not know where she was being kept, but I certainly knew the person responsible for the horrific act.

Vladimir Popov would soon learn what retaliation looked like.

Soon, his blood would be on my hands.

His empire in ruins.

His business destroyed.

And as I’d been taught by my father.

There would be zero regret.

“I’m going after her.”

He caught me again, yanking me close. “That won’t do any good. We don’t have enough information or manpower. You know that.”

“I don’t give a shit,” I hissed, yanking my arm free.

“It’s good to see you return to the land of the living, Kazimir.

Just don’t make your efforts be the last moments you spend on this earth.

Life is too precious, too short. Now that you’ve learned you have someone worth fighting for, everything will change for the better. But we must do this the right way.”

In my mind, the only right way was killing Popov and destroying everything in his world.

I stopped short, taking a deep breath. He was right, but that didn’t mean following his advice would be any easier. “You mean someone worth dying for.”

He laughed softly. Other footsteps sounded in the distance as our soldiers made their way outside. “Yes, someone worth dying for.”