Page 47 of Hateful Vows

THIRTY-SIX

IRINA

“ I think I’ve got something,” Toma jumps from his seat by the window and I straighten.

It’s been three weeks since Dante disappeared.

The abyss he left inside my chest grows deeper every day that I can’t find a trace of him anywhere.

Aleksei’s been a silent sentinel at my side and everyone has given their all to find him but it’s the first time a jolt of hope sparks in my veins in what feels like an eternity.

We’ve had absolutely nothing so far. Not even Capaldi and his priceless technologies could do anything against whoever our enemy is.

“Look here.” Toma shows me his screen.

A man with regular build and a shabby mop of brown hair under a black, unbranded baseball cap walks toward the ferry in Kennacraig, Scotland.

His eyes and face are hidden and it doesn’t look like a coincidence.

“I started looking into the more remote islands. Some I visited before I relocated to London full time. This man took the ferry to Islay, before disappearing completely from my radar. Which isn’t too hard considering Islay and Jura are so remote and barely have any public cameras Capaldi and I could hack into. ”

“What’s so special about him?” I ask, Aleksei at my back.

His body radiates coiled tension, and it gives me solace to know I’m not the only one locked in rage and pain.

We can share it. Even Lucie and her sweet disposition have transformed before my eyes in the past weeks.

She’s trained at the gun range every single day and I’ve seen her progress with the strength of her sorrow.

I’d think it’s beautiful if I wasn’t so focused on finding my husband.

“The tattoo on his hand brands him as Moscow Bratva.”

“It could be one of Misha Petrov’s men,” I say. “He did tell us we’d regret killing his second-in-command and not going on board with his plans.”

“If it were Petrov, we would know,” Aleksei supplies.

“So what? It’s a rogue soldier who hates Dante? This makes no sense.”

Everyone looks at the screen in confusion. But Aleksei has a point. After Petrov threatened us with repercussions when we killed his second-in-command, it was radio silence and the man is too prideful not to boast. Or make us yield.

“I was only able to isolate it for a fraction of a second,” Toma continues. “This isn’t a man who makes mistakes, I haven’t been able to track him down. It looks like he changed disguise often, but the wind caught his jacket and there it was.”

“Fuck,” someone exclaims in the room.

“You think he has Dante?” Lorenzo asks, hope clear in his voice.

“It’s worth checking. We have nothing else to go on.”

“Get in gear, everyone, we’re going haunting.”

Lucie stands and I stop her with a hand on her forearm. “You’re staying, Lucie.”

“Hell, no. My cousin has been gone for weeks now, we don’t know what we’re going into. There’s no time for recon and you need all the manpower you can use.”

Her ears tip red with the power of her anger and though I feel a kinship to that, I can’t let her get hurt. Dante would never forgive me.

I’m about to argue when Aleksei steps in front of me, holding my face with both his hands.

No one has made any comment about how close we’ve allowed ourselves to be.

They might not understand but they don’t judge and the knowledge that my closest team could support our unusual situation soothes an anxiety I do not need right now.

Aleksei’s voice is soothing but unyielding. “Remember what it feels like to be underestimated.”

His stare bores into me, begging me to see Lucie as I was, shackled and hidden, someone always trying to keep me down. I swallow and nod, then point an accusing finger at her.

“If you’re coming, I need you to be a soldier. Obey. Don’t get caught. And don’t die.”

She smiles, the first time in weeks, and turns on her heels.

“Come on, piccolo ,” she tells Toma who follows on her heels like a lovesick puppy despite being ten years her senior.

“Should I be worried?” I ask Aleksei who shakes his head like his wife is the bane of his existence.

“She likes her partners older than her, apparently.”

For the first time in weeks, hope brings levity around us and I find myself raising a brow, curious and distracted by something else than the potential of losing one of the men I love.

“Don’t ask,” Aleksei says as we move towards our equipment.

I pray we are not too late. I don’t want to let hope bloom within me. If I do and I lose him, I might never recover. And for someone who thought she couldn’t love, that’s too dangerous.

O ur allies have offered the services of their best trained men and our unit of Elite soldiers are at our sides as we make our way to Islay’s small airport.

If the man who took Dante is as cunning as I think he is, he already knows we are on our way.

I have to pray he was too busy watching over Dante to notice us storming the small remote island.

Aleksei’s team is going to scour Islay while I lead another towards Jura, which is even smaller and even more remote.

Our enemy knows the landscape better than we do but we’ve identified a few isolated homes and abandoned buildings that we’ll prioritise.

If Dante is held captive and tortured, his screams would alert the local population.

I have to believe we’ll hit true and fast. The fear of losing him threatens to choke me, my lungs seizing with the need to breathe in his scent instead of air, and make sure he lives.

I shake my head and close my eyes, his cunning green eyes and smirking mouth greeting me. I have to believe he’s okay.

Capaldi has seized all ferries for the day, blocking the harbours by breaking down their communication system, as well as the airport once we land, locking everyone on the two islands. No one will leave until I say so.

The locals watch us arrive at the docks with wary expressions, most of them disappearing into their homes. Smart. I don’t want to endanger any of them but nothing will stand in my way to my husband.

We start with an abandoned home North of the island, before making our way down the road back to the main harbour. We find nothing.

My skin itches under the balaclava, and dread is a shadow at my back. I try not to let it weigh me down or hinder my stealth. It’s hard to keep my head on straight but Aleksei’s voice in the earpiece keeps me steady.

“Found anything yet?”

“No,” I answer. “You?”

“We’re almost done. Be prepared, malyshka . Something tells me you’re closer than I am.”

“Once you're done, get here with your men as soon as possible.”

“Will do. Be safe.”

“You too.”

The call doesn’t disconnect. We agreed to stay on the line the entire time. It eases the pressure inside my ribcage to know I can voice my concerns to him, checking in to make sure he stays alive as well. I can’t afford to lose him, too. That would break me completely. “Aleksei?”

“Yes, malyshka ?”

“I love you,” I tell him, not caring who hears. I’ve wasted too many years hiding. I won’t ever let time take anything from me again. And certainly not the bastard who has my husband.

“I love you, too. Show no mercy.”

I let hot red rage fill my veins and fuel my movements as we come towards a small one-story house by the side of the road. I need something to keep me going. Stopping now isn’t an option. I won’t rest until my husband is returned to me.

Two weeks ago, my dreams were made of blood and violence toward the man responsible, but now, I don’t even care. I just want Dante. I want him safe and alive, healthy, sleeping in my bed and the sound of his laughter in my ears.

The broken signage by the door indicates that the place used to be a clinic. Isolated in the middle of breathtaking green hills, the whitewashed small house is the perfect spot. My nerves prickles with awareness and my throat clogs with something I can’t name but recognise nonetheless.

I hold up a hand, stopping the men in their tracks. With a few hand gestures, I direct them to surround the building. There seems to be only one entrance.

“Lorenzo, secure the perimeter, make sure there isn’t a hidden tunnel or some shit close by. That’s how rats live.”

Three men separate from our group and the others stand at my back with Lucie as I silently pick the front door lock and walk in.

Sweat beads at my brow. That fucking lock was too difficult and shiny new to be anything other than what we’re looking for.

Silence and darkness greet us. And the stench of bodily fluids. Unless someone died here recently, the smell is enough to have hope soaring through me.

On silent feet, we move through the only floor, finding nothing but dust and spider webs behind the boarded windows. The closed metal door at the back of the house is a feature that definitely should not be here. It’s locked and we still haven't found another exit.

We have found the elusive culprit.

And he’s locked in with us.

“Dead or alive,” I tell Lucie and the men.

“ Lealtà, dovere, coraggio ,” they all answer in unison.

This lock is impossible to pick and we opt for sawing our way in. The metal is thick and it takes us too long, probably alerting our prey but it doesn’t matter. He’s trapped. I just have to hope he doesn’t kill Dante in his frenzy and desire to escape.

The metal is loud as it clanks to the floor and we all pour in, descending a set of stairs, and that ominous stench getting stronger as we march closer to yet another door.

When we throw it open, bullets fly from the inside.

My heart batters in my chest, adrenaline sharpening my senses.

“Take cover,” I yell.

We reciprocate the assault with the force of our small army.

I’m closer to the open door and see a crouched silhouette on the floor on the side of the room, illuminated by a bright artificial white light.

“He’s inside!” I scream. “Don’t shoot.”

We stop our offensive operation but our assailant doesn’t. A clicking sound echoes between us and the bullets stop flying, but only shortly. I hear the telltale lock of a machine gun before he’s back at us.

“Retreat,” Lucie and I yell in harmony before diving back behind the walls and running back up the stairs.

Fucking hell. I refuse to be bested by one. Single. Man.

From our place at the top of the stairs, side by side, Lucie and I take aim, hoping the man will show his head and we can shoot him in the face. And he fucking does, crazed with violence.

The face that greets us brings me to my knees.

I stagger. And hesitate.

But Lucie doesn’t, shooting Dante and hitting his shoulder.

He seems stunned for a moment, his eyes empty and violent—nothing like my Dante— affixed on Lucie.

He grunts then retreats, but not before another bullet hits the side of his head, missing him, shy of an inch. The grin that spreads on his face sends a shiver of fear I haven’t felt since my step-father died.

Metal clank in the closed space my husband retreated in.

I’m reeling. It can’t be him, I must be hallucinating.

Tears prickle my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. If he is the one behind all my stress, I’m going to kill him slowly and take everything he has ever cared for. I won’t stop until I’ve wrought every imaginable pain from him. I won’t rest until he pays for all this.

Lucie jumps ahead of me, and I follow close. “Be careful,” I tell her. She gives me a sharp nod.

We both creep towards the now silent room. A medical metal table is turned to the side as if he had used it for protection. A whimper drags my attention away.

The crouched person is still there on the floor, in tatters and smelling like they haven’t been allowed to bathe in too long. My heart clenches with pity and I approach, trying to make myself as little as I can, not to scare them.

And the black heart I thought I didn’t have breaks into a million pieces.

The eyes that meet mine are as green as ever, even though his face is emaciated and wild.

“No…”

No recognition shines in the usually expressive irises and I take his left hand, slowly lifting it. He lets me.

His identity smacks me in the face.

Property of Irina Ventura is written in wobbly script on his left ring finger.

“Dante,” I cry out his name. The tears come and flow without my permission.

I don’t care that he’s filthy. I take his face in my hands and land my forehead to his. “It’s me. It’s Irina.”

“Irina?” he croaks.

I nod frantically. “I’m going to get you out. You’re safe now,” I say but it’s more for my benefit than his. Pain is written across his body and face, and mine echoes in the depth of my soul.

Dante grabs my wrists with more force than I thought he'd be capable of in his state, frantically looking to the sides of the room. “Where is he?”

“He’s gone. There was a trap door underneath the metal table,” Lucie answers.

“No, no, no. I need it,” he yells, grabbing his knees and frantically rocking back and forth. “I need more.”

Frowning, I rub his forearms. “What do you need?”

“Gio gave it to me. I need it.”

Lucie and I reel back when he mentions his brother. I suspected it when I saw the man who shot at us but couldn’t compute the information at the time. The confirmation in Dante’s mouth sends dread over me. It slithers under my skin to settle in my bones.

Gio is alive. And the fucker is free.

Dante repeats over and over that he needs it , and I don’t know how to snap him out of it.

“Irina,” Lorenzo calls and I stand to walk the three steps that separate us. “I found this,” he whispers and shows me an empty syringe.

My eyes close and I sigh. “Fuck.”

We turn to look at Dante who hasn’t moved from his place on the floor.

My throat clogs but I steel my spine and clench my teeth. “Sedate him. We need to bring him home but he…” I hiccup. “He won’t follow us like this.”

When Dante slumps to the floor after Lucie administers the sedative that I thought I would use against our enemy, I recount what happened to Aleksei, filling in the gaps of when shouts and the sound of war echoed in his ears instead of my voice.

“He’s in a tunnel, Aleksei. Find him. And keep him alive.”