Page 47 of Mafia King’s Broken Vow (New York Bratva #5)

COUNTDOWN

YAKOV

“ W here is she?”

Silence meets my question. I stand before them, tension radiating from every muscle despite my controlled expression.

Volkov Enterprises surrounds us—chrome, glass, power. Clean facade hiding blood and bodies.

“She’s been moved,” Igor says curtly. “For her own protection.”

My jaw tightens. “Without consulting me.”

“You’re not her keeper, Gagarin,” Igor snaps, though his usual sneering confidence wavers. His brother is there too.

I take a controlled breath, fighting the urge to reach across the space between us and slam his head into the polished mahogany.

“Tell me where she is. Now.”

Nikolai raises his hand, silencing whatever retort Igor has on his lips. Always the diplomat, always the peacemaker when it suits his purposes.

“Aleksander took her to a secure location after you left this morning,” Nikolai explains, his tone reasonable. Too reasonable. “Pablo knew exactly where she was. We can’t take the risk.”

“What location?” I ask through gritted teeth.

Nikolai shakes his head. “Need-to-know basis, Yakov. And right now, you don’t need to know.”

White-hot rage flashes through me, but I force it down. Losing control now won’t get me to Mila. Nothing matters but reaching her, making sure Pablo hasn’t already?—

I cut that thought off before it fully forms. I won’t allow my mind to go to dark places.

“I need to speak with her,” I say, fighting to stay calm. “To confirm she’s safe.”

Igor laughs, the sound grating against my nerves. “What you need is to remember your place. You’re on probation, Gagarin. A trained attack dog we’ve decided might be useful against the Colombians. Nothing more.”

I let his words wash over me without reaction. His opinion means nothing. Only Mila matters now.

“Call her,” I demand, directing the words to Nikolai. “Let me speak to her.”

“Fine,” he concedes, picking up his phone. “I’ll contact Aleksander and have him put her on.”

The seconds drag into minutes as Nikolai waits for Aleksander to answer. My heart pounds against my ribcage, a battle drum of dread and anticipation. The longer the silence stretches, the tighter the knot in my gut becomes.

“No answer,” Nikolai says finally, his brow furrowing. He tries again.

Nothing.

I pull out my own phone and dial Mila’s number, knowing it’s futile even as I press the buttons. Straight to voicemail, her message in my ear both comfort and torment: “You’ve reached Dr. Mila Agapova. Please leave your name and number, and I will return your call as soon as possible.”

“They’re compromised,” I say, already moving toward the door. “Aleksander always picks up when you call.”

“There’s probably a poor signal at the safe house,” Igor dismisses, but I catch concern flickering across his face. “The location is deliberately remote.”

“Remote enough for Pablo to isolate them,” I counter, mind racing through tactical scenarios. “You know his methods, Igor. Cut communications first, then strike.”

Nikolai is already on another line, barking orders for a security team to mobilize. I don’t wait. Every second counts.

Igor barks orders into his phone, mobilizing strike teams. “ETA forty minutes to the safe house,” he snaps to Nikolai. “Full tactical response.”

“Which safe house?” I demand again, this time with a deadly calm that has both men looking at me with newfound wariness.

Nikolai hesitates, then makes a decision. “The old Sokolov hunting lodge. North of?—”

“I know where it is.” I’m already calculating travel time, entry points, and defensive vulnerabilities. “I’ll need weapons.”

“Wait for backup,” Nikolai orders without conviction. He knows as well as I do that waiting could mean death.

“There’s no time.” I move to the cabinet behind his desk, entering the code I memorized weeks ago despite never being given access. The panel slides open, revealing an arsenal that would make certain federal agencies raise their eyebrows.

Igor starts to protest, but I silence him with a look that promises violence if he interferes. “Your brother’s with her. And if Pablo has found them, every second we waste is blood on your hands.”

That stops him cold. For all his posturing, Igor loves his brothers. And Aleksander has always been his favorite.

I select weapons with precision—Glock 19, extra magazines, a combat knife. Muscle memory takes over, movements automatic. Nikolai nods curtly. “We’ll be right behind you.”

I don’t waste time responding, already moving toward the door with deadly purpose.

The elevator is too slow, too confined, so I take the stairs, descending sixteen floors at a near-run.

By the time I reach the garage, I’ve mapped out three different entry strategies for the lodge, prioritizing stealth over firepower.

Nikolai’s Audi keys are in their usual spot. I take them, knowing every second counts. I’m weaving through traffic when my phone rings. Unknown number.

“Yakov.” Just my name, but I recognize the voice and the accent instantly. Pablo.

Ice replaces the fire in my veins. “Where is she?”

His laugh is soft, utterly at odds with the sadism I know he’s capable of. “She’s entertaining my men while I wait for you, old friend.”

“Touch her, and I’ll skin you alive,” I snarl, the words delivered with the calm certainty of a man who has done worse.

“Touching? No, no. I’m a gentleman, Yakov.” His voice drops lower. “But my men…they lack my refinement. And the doctor is quite beautiful, isn’t she? Such an expressive face. I wonder what it’ll look like when?—”

“Enough.” My knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. “It’s me you want. This was never about her.”

“It became about her the moment you chose her over business.” Pablo’s voice hardens. “You had a deal with us, and then you went ahead and betrayed a cartel arrangement for a woman, Yakov. Did you really think there wouldn’t be consequences?”

I accelerate onto the highway, pushing the Audi past speeds that could be considered remotely legal. “Name your terms.”

“Simple. You, for her. Unarmed. Alone.” He pauses. “You have one hour to reach the lodge. After that, I start sending pieces of her back to the Bratva as a message about the importance of respecting established agreements. Any backup, and she dies screaming. My men have orders.”

The call disconnects, and I fight the urge to throw the phone through the windshield. Instead, I dial Nikolai.

“Pablo has them. He wants me in exchange for Mila. One hour. Call off the strike team,” I bark without preamble. “He’ll kill them both if he sees Bratva colors. Give me the hour, then move in.”

“Understood,” Nikolai begins, but I cut him off.

“I’m twenty minutes out. “ I swerve around a slow-moving truck, ignoring the blaring horn.

“So what’s your plan? Walk in alone and hope he honors the exchange?” Nikolai’s voice drips with skepticism. “You know better than that, Gagarin.”

“I know Pablo,” I counter. “He has a code, twisted as it is. The exchange buys time. After that…” I leave the rest unsaid. We both know what happens after.

“This is suicide,” Nikolai says bluntly.

“Only if I fail.”

The road stretches before me, each mile bringing me closer to Mila and whatever fate awaits us both. Images flash through my mind—her smile, her challenging gaze, her sleeping form against my side.

For months, I’ve hovered in limbo, neither Bratva enforcer nor reformed man. But in this moment, racing toward what might be my end, I find clarity at last.

I am whatever Mila needs me to be.

Minutes blur as the landscape rushes past. I divert from the main road, taking shortcuts through forest service paths I memorized years ago when mapping Bratva territories.

The Audi wasn’t built for this terrain, but I push it mercilessly, feeling the suspension protest as I navigate rutted tracks at speeds that would terrify most drivers.

A mile from the lodge, I pull over and continue on foot.

Pablo will have scouts watching the roads.

Moving silently through the undergrowth, I approach from the west, using the terrain for cover.

The afternoon sun casts long shadows that work in my favor, obscuring my movements as I circle the property.

The lodge comes into view, a sprawling log structure that would look rustic if not for the state-of-the-art security features hidden within its design. Four perimeter guards, cartel-trained but sloppy compared to Bratva standards. Pablo must have left the most skilled for interior protection.

Smart.

Through binoculars, I catch glimpses of movement inside. A figure passes by a window, too tall to be Mila. Then another. Counting, I estimate at least eight hostiles inside, plus Pablo himself.

And somewhere in there, Mila and Aleksander, alive or?—

No. I refuse to consider any outcome where I don’t get her out alive. Any future where she doesn’t return to my arms.

I check my weapons one last time and make my decision. I won’t be walking in the front door unarmed as Pablo demanded. I won’t be playing by his rules. This ends today, one way or another.

“I’m coming for you, milaya ,” I whisper into the gathering dusk, a promise to the woman who holds whatever remains of my soul. “Hold on.”

With cold determination, I move toward the lodge, a shadow among shadows, death incarnate for anyone who stands between me and Mila. Time for talking is over. Time for mercy long past.

Now comes the monster the Bratva feared. God help anyone who’s touched her.