Page 25

“No, you can’t, because how do you explain how she’s missing from our bedroom?!” I thundered, eyes red with fury. “Someone took her, Kuzma!”

“Boss,” one of the guards called my attention, standing by the entrance. “We’ve searched the whole building. She’s not here, sir.”

My blood boiled with fury, my chest heaving as I balled a fist and slammed it into the wall. The impact, a loud thud, left a shallow, cracked dent—fist-shaped, with fractured paint and crumbling drywall at the center.

“Get me the security feeds,” I ordered, my voice low but filled with venom.

My men and I analyzed the CCTV feeds and realized that one hour of footage was missing, surgically wiped clean.

This was done by a pro. It was a coordinated attack, and whoever they were succeeded.

Someone had infiltrated my home, hacked my CCTVs, and bypassed the security I paid a fortune to establish.

To make matters worse, they kidnapped my wife.

And they did that while I slept. The one time I didn’t sleep in our bedroom, the enemy came and stole her away.

I’d come back to my security men later; they’d all explain to me how they let someone outsmart them. This only meant my home was not as safe as I thought it was. It wasn’t a fortress if it was porous enough to be infiltrated so seamlessly. They should all be ashamed and expect the worst from me.

But for now, we had to focus on finding out who the fuck was responsible for this. Whoever they were, they had just declared war, and I would burn the entire fucking city down to find them.

Kuzma, who’d been calm the entire time, seemed to have lost control. He barked at the security team, growling at their incompetence and the gravity of their mistake. He adjusted his jacket and turned to face me, a glint of guilt and remorse flashing in his eyes.

“We’ll do everything we can to find out who did this, Boss,” he assured me, his voice dripping with certainty.

I paused, my eyes squinting as a thought crossed my mind—a pretty good idea of who might be behind this. “Let the men do that,” I said, my voice low and even. “In the meantime, you’re coming with me. I know just the place to start looking.”

“Do we need backup?” he asked, not moved by fear but by his readiness for battle.

“Definitely,” came my response.

He nodded, his gaze sweeping across the serious-faced men in black suits. Kuzma selected four of our finest foot soldiers to tag along in case things got messy.

***

Impressive how Kuzma and only four of our men took down all of O’Hara’s guards without even breaking a sweat. Bullets filled the air, blending with the sickening screams of injured soldiers. I didn’t even have to pull my gun; my men did the job perfectly.

O’Hara must be scared to death right now, wondering who had come for him. He was in one of his offshore warehouses today; luckily for him, we didn’t have to attack his home.

Kuzma knocked down his last opponent and towered over their body, his chest heaving slowly.

He pressed a finger on the bud in his ear, as if listening to an instruction on the other end of the line.

“Got it,” he said and walked over to me.

“Our sniper on the other rooftop says the coast is clear. O’Hara’s alone in his office. His guards have been neutralized.”

Without a word, I marched toward the staircase leading to his office, and my men followed. I didn’t waste a single moment before kicking down the fucking door.

O’Hara stood behind his desk, a gun aimed at the entrance, a frown masking his fear.

Three dead bodies with bullets in their skulls littered the floor, blood pooling around their heads.

His eyes widened in shock when he saw me walk in, flanked by my armed men.

He was outnumbered and outgunned. Pulling that trigger would be suicide.

The man was at least smart enough to know that.

“Sergei,” he snarled, his voice dripping with hate and disdain. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, his eyes shifting across my men before settling on my face. “Ruining my reputation and my business wasn’t enough for you; now you’ve come to take my life?”

I stepped forward, seething in silence. “Where is she?” I asked simply, glaring at him.

“Where is who?”

My jaw clenched, and I snapped, rushing over to grab him by the collar. “Don’t fucking play games with me, Ronan!” I slammed his back hard against the wall, mirroring his face. “Where is my wife?”

I watched the fear in his eyes vanish instantly, replaced by anger. “You son of a bitch,” he snarled, shoving my chest, his push strong and energetic. I stumbled a couple of steps back, and his powerful punch turned my head to the side. “You lost my daughter?”

He threw another blow but wasn’t so lucky this time.

I ducked, retaliating with a strike to his ribs, so precise that the impact forced him down on his knees.

He groaned like a wounded lion, a hand over the affected area.

The strike had him physically disabled for the moment, but he still had a lot of fight left in him.

O’Hara was furious, with eyes blazing red.

For a second there, it was almost like he had no idea what the hell was going on.

“Last chance, Ronan.” I cocked my gun and aimed at his forehead. “Where is my wife?”

As if to mock me, he laughed lightly and raised his chin. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Tarasov.” He spat out blood and faced me again. “You might be a powerful man, but you don’t know the first thing about being a husband.”

I clenched my jaw, feeling the nasty sting of his words, sharp like a dagger.

“You might as well just kill me now.” He groaned, spreading out his arms in surrender. “Because I have no idea where she is.”

I was no psychologist, but I suspected he was telling the truth. Kuzma and I exchanged glances, a silent acknowledgement that he just might mean what he claimed.

“When was the last time you saw her?” I asked, a bit calmer.

“On the wedding day, asshole,” he replied, “when you humiliated my family and forced my daughter to marry you.” He glared at me. If he were the one holding this gun to my head, he’d have likely pulled the trigger already.

My jaw tightened, frustration creeping back in, but I couldn’t afford to lose control before the enemy. I sniffled, my face a mask of rage as I lowered the gun.

“How did this happen?” He groaned deeply, struggling to stand. “Have you stopped to consider that maybe she just…ran away from you?” He chuckled mockingly, lighting a cigarette.

That was a good point. But it wasn’t the case here.

Ayla might have hated my guts, but she wasn’t heartless enough to leave that dog behind.

If she ran, she’d have taken the dog with her, regardless of how uncomfortable the journey might be.

Not to mention the CCTV footage that was tampered with.

Last I checked, she was no tech genius, so there was no way she could’ve pulled that off.

“Hate to disappoint, Ronan, but she didn’t run away,” I said, looking out his window, and from here, I could see my sniper crouched on the rooftop across. “She was kidnapped.” I faced him again. “Someone infiltrated my home, bypassed my security, and kidnapped her.”

His brows rose, a glimpse of shock and disbelief flashing in his gaze.

“I thought they said the Tarasov men were known for their impeccable taste in security. I heard they lived in fortresses, impenetrable.” He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“I guess that was just a tale you Tarasovs made up to keep your enemies from your doorstep.”

“Says the man whose entire army was raided by less than a dozen men,” Kuzma chipped in, frowning at Ronan’s insults.

“We don’t have time for this,” I declared, drawing closer to O’Hara. “Ayla is missing.”

He combed his fingers through his hair and scratched the back of his head. “Why did you think it was me? Why’d you think I had a hand in the kidnapping of my daughter?” he asked me.

“Because you’re the one with the motive to do so,” came my reply. “I humiliated you and kidnapped your daughter. It’s only fair that you try to steal her back.”

“True.” He released a puff of smoke. “But you see, I’m not the only one you humiliated that day, Tarasov.” Ronan looked me dead in the eyes. “I’m not the only one with a motive to make you suffer.”

He was right. There was one more suspect.

The Italians.