Page 102 of Owned Bratva Bride

“There’s still a mole,” Harry agreed, nodding.

“The question is, who is it? He’s the key to finding the boss’s wife,” Ruslan added.

But that wasn’t the only question on my mind as I left the stuffy basement.

Was she abducted, or did she leave?

I couldn’t sit as I got to our bedroom.

As I paced, the fact that Marielle had been out of the house for close to 24 hours made me want to punch someone. Namely me.

I was the asshole who didn’t run after her when she left me angrily. I was the idiot who didn’t think to check on her this morning before leaving the house.

The note made sense. If she had been colluding with Lucien, she might have suspected that I knew what was going on. Then she probably left before I could catch or punish her. Or maybe it was the plan all along for her to leave last night with Lucien’s men.

What if they really abducted her?

Anyone could write a note. It might have been one of Lucien’s men who wrote it.

Knocks on the bedroom door cut into my thoughts.

It was Ivan.

“Boss, Sir Oleg is here.”

“Oleg? What is he doing at my house this close to midnight?”

“Said he was passing by,” Ivan answered.

I met a smiling Oleg in the sitting room.

Oleg Yezhov was one of the youngest among us. But he was, in no ramification, less dangerous. The green-eyed guy would do almost anything to attain more power.

“Eduard,” he greeted. “I missed the recent Bratva meetings. It’s been a long time since I saw that cold face.”

“Your visit is unwanted at this moment. I’m dealing with something,” I told him.

“What? Did something happen at your warehouse?”

Ivan looked at me, and I blinked, giving him permission to share the news.

“Lucien Navarro’s men took the boss’s wife last night.”

“That is some situation,” he declared, tilting his head. “Weren’t they involved? I mean, I heard you initially took her thinking she was the wife. What if she just went back to her lover?”

Suppressing my anger, I asked, “And what if she didn’t?”

“Uh…well…it’s more likely she did. It’s better to let her go.”

“Isay what is best to do.”

“So, are you going after them?” he asked, like it was an incredulous idea.

Before the thought of hitting him resurfaced, I turned around.

“You’re not planning an overnight picnic here, are you?” I asked over my shoulder.

“I guess I’ll be back when you’re in a better mood.”