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“What we need is stability and steady projection. Expansion can come later. We are already big enough as it is, and we’re doing fine. We don’t need to impress anyone.”

Petrov Ludovico slid his briefcase across the desk, a smug look plastered on his chubby face, and with his vintage slicked-back silver hair, navy blue suit, and heirloom rings lined on his fingers, he was the pictorial representation of a bloody arrogant ass.

I didn’t like him, and he didn’t like me, but he did good business. That was why, despite the urge to whack his face with the back of that leather briefcase, I opened the lid and frowned at the neatly arranged rows of mint green bills.

“You think you can fucking buy me, Ludovico?”

“Buy you?” He laughed, and the sound of his hoarse cackle grated my nerves. “Anyone who thinks they can buy the great and mighty Timur Yezhov surely takes delight in wasting his or her time. I’m not an idiot, Timur. Take that as an increase in my investment.”

Shutting the lid, I pushed the briefcase back to him. “We’re good. I don’t need any more of your fucking money.”

“Tim—”

“Nobody fucking calls me Tim, Petrov.” I narrowed my eyes at him, desperate to put this meeting to an end.

We had been at this for hours, and he refused to be swayed by my countless rejections of his proposals for business expansion, including franchising the nightclubs in three other states in the country and five others on different continents.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning. “I meant no harm.” Leaning forward, he regarded me with a more serious expression. “Look, all I’m saying is consider it.”

“I have. My answer is still no.”

“I have the plans, statistics, logistics…all of it. It’s not a terrible idea, Yezhov. I get that we’re good and doing fine, but expansion will have to be factored in at some point.”

“At some point. Right now, no.”

“Goddammit. You’re as stubborn as a mule. Maybe a short trip to the proposed locations would change your—”

“For the last time—and I swear to God, Petrov, I’m not going to fucking repeat myself—this is not a fucking partnership. You’ve swung your proposals from different angles, and my answer is still a big fucking N-O. No, we’re not fucking doing the franchise thing. If you want to expand so bad, why don’t you build your own shit?”

“Understood. Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t take steps to secure my future. What can an old man do?”

“You’re not playing that fucking card with me, and you’re not the only fucking investor.” I pointed at the two other men seated across the desk, who’d been watching and listening the entire time. “Arkadi and Evgeni have stayed fucking quiet.”

“Maybe that’s because they have their own opinions and not necessarily because my idea isn’t going to work. You never know.”

Petrov wasn’t going to stop pushing; he’d made that clear.

I had the responsibility to remind him of what would happen to the people who kept pushing the wrong buttons. I was going to fucking nip them in the bud.

“You sure as hell know that I can do without you, Petrov. If anyone is doing anyone a favor here, it’s me to you.”

“Is that a threat?”

I glared at him. “Do I make threats?”

After what seemed like a brief moment of acceptance that he’d lost this battle, he rose from the chair, tossed his briefcase to the looming bodyguard by his side, and grabbed his cane, adjusting it to support his weight.

“Fine. I’ll leave with my money. But in the future, don’t say I didn’t warn you, Timur.”

“Oh, trust me when I say I won’t.”

The meeting was dismissed.

The others quietly nodded before leaving in a hurry, and Petrov eyed them before taking his leave.

Staring at his retreating form, I leaned back against the chair, burying my face in my hands. Like a roll of thunderstorms, a strong headache was coming in, and I could only think of one cure to rid me of the urge to put a bullet in something.

My little bee.

Springing forward, I reached for my phone, checking the time on the screen. Dusk had set in. She should have been home already from her appointment at the hospital. I hated that I couldn’t be there with her today.

Heck, maybe I missed her?

She was my wife, wasn’t she?

I was allowed to want her— need her , even—whenever the fuck I pleased. And I needed her now.

My fingers hovered over her new number, but before I pressed the dial button, Arlo barged into the office with Ivan trailing behind him.

I dropped the phone, murmuring, “Can somebody give me a fucking break?”

“Boss….”

I arched a brow, more suspiciously concerned when Ivan fell to his knees on the new carpet, bowing his head. Arlo almost never called me boss, not since years ago, or except when he had a joke brewing. But the firm line on his lips and murderous gloominess hanging over his entire countenance was enough to hint that the only thing brewing was news that I wasn’t going to fucking like.

“What is it?”

Arlo stepped aside, giving more room for Ivan’s profile to be on view. “Serena’s missing. He lost her.”

It took a minute before Arlo’s words sank deep, and when they did, that urge to put a bullet in something tripled in an immense amount; it was almost blinding. I had to grip the arm of the chair for support.

“ What?”

“After an appointment at the hospital. The people there said she’d chased after a car. That was the last that was seen of her.”

I was on my feet in seconds, marching over to Ivan with the whole of my body vibrating like an engine about to explode. “Get the fuck up.”

He obeyed, and I didn’t hesitate when he rose to eye level.

I curled my fingers and swung my fist across his jaw. Ivan toppled, swaying on his feet, almost falling on his back. But I didn’t stop. Stepping forward, I struck my fist under his chin, then over his nose….

Not pausing even when the blood spread, smeared over the black ink on my knuckles, and dotted my dress shirt. Not pausing when something white and pearly flew out of his mouth.

Rage blinded me, and an uncomfortable squeeze in my chest suffocated me. The only way I felt I could breathe was if I saw her again. I wanted to hold her, to see her smile, to hear her laugh, to fit perfectly with her while she clung to me like I mattered more to her than life itself.

A satisfying snap of bones cracking made me stop, reeling me back to the present. With a step back, I kicked his folded body, which had collapsed to the floor.

Chest heaving, with my jaw clenched, I pointed my bloodied fingers at Arlo, who looked at me like he would at a raving madman.

“Get me her current location right fucking now. I don’t care what you have to do or who you have to fucking kill to get it. You have thirty fucking minutes to find my wife!”