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Chapter Thirty-One

DEMYAN

The sounds of Erin’s fury and fear in her voice cracked something in me. That note of utter devastation keeps slamming against my walls and it makes the same tremor inside me. I focus on her, not my own reaction that would turn to white-hot terror if I let it.

Someone was in my home.

They walked in.

Took him.

Worse.

They knew about him.

The word how keeps echoing through me as I bark orders at my men.

Every damn contact I have, every fucking informant and spy Ilya has set up, is being milked for information.

Pavel’s on the ground, working tirelessly. I’d make him my new head of security, except I think that’d be a mistake. He’s too good out there. I need someone more dedicated than Vitor. Someone hungry to prove they’re worth it.

But that can fucking wait.

My men follow orders and I think I need to change something in the structure. They’re loyal, but I need them watching, reporting at the slightest change, and I need the right person to filter that shit through.

I’m locking the gate after the horse has already vanished into the night.

“Focus.”

It’s hard to do when the information coming in is useless.

Rage storms through me and I sweep all the shit on my desk to the ground.

Alina comes in with coffee I don’t want, but I accept it. “Feel better?”

“No.” The snarl in my tone is something I can’t help. “Tell me which heads should roll. Other than Vitor’s.”

“I heard.”

“We have traitors?—”

“No. We have people who let their guard down, who thought everything was normal and got complacent. No one’s going to betray us. They respect you. Unlike our father. You have loyalty born from something better than fear. From respect. And they must have come in on the delivery truck.”

“Someone told them what room.”

“I-if the truck arrived when I put him to bed and most of the guards were watching the perimeter…”

She doesn’t need to finish.

“Someone talked; how the fuck did whoever did this know I have a son?”

“Anyone with eyes?”

It doesn’t make sense. I storm out and grab one of Ilya’s most trusted. “Got anything?”

“Just spoke to Ilya, sir,” he says. “Nothing yet, but we’re dragging in information from everyone, even Sergio?—”

“What?”

“Ilya said?—”

I ignore him and call Ilya. “What the fuck? Sergio? ”

“His contacts. Someone has to have seen something.” His voice lowers and he must be with Erin.

Sure enough, I can hear her saying something frantically behind him.

But he must move to the door because her voice gets a little quieter and I focus on him, on the problem I can try to solve, not the one I can’t. “How did this happen?”

“Vitor dropped the ball.”

“I’ll get you a new head of security. Listen,” he says in Russian. “We haven’t gone out anywhere; the only place you might’ve been seen with Erin and the boy is the park you went to.”

“Agreed. Do they know he’s mine?”

Ilya is quiet for a few moments. “Let’s just hope not. He’s very young so they might not put it together. The fact you’ve been seen with someone might be enough to look into her, to find out she has a child. But there’s no link between the two of you until the wedding.”

Until she moved in.

Until I forced her hand.

Put our child in danger.

“So maybe they’re trying to cause trouble by taking the child of the woman I’m with? Sergio?”

“I’m not sure he’d dare.”

“Niko.”

“My thoughts, too.” The phone muffles as he speaks English. “I’m getting a report from Demyan, Erin.” Then he switches back to Russian. “Let’s hope they don’t know he’s yours.”

There’s a note of censure I let slide. He knows I once thought that in a moment of complete idiocy. But I get what he’s saying. If I thought that, maybe someone else did.

Which means whoever took Sasha’s using him to get to me, to draw me out, my latest piece’s kid is good, easy fodder to get me .

My son? They’ll kill him.

And then I’ll rip the world into shreds.

No. No. That isn’t happening. Sasha is going to be fine.

“I’ve got Pavel as my legs out there,” he adds.

“I’m aware.”

“No, he’s got my contacts. He’s talking to them now. Treat him as me.”

I hang up as the reports come in.

But there’s nothing I can use. There’s no sighting of Sasha, no word coming my way about him. And most of these assholes out there would use him to get to me. That’s what cowards do.

Kill an innocent man who wasn’t family yet.

Kidnap a child.

It’s almost three a.m. when my phone rings.

“Boss.” Pavel’s voice is quiet, the merest hint of excitement vibrating in it. “One of Sergio’s contacts came through.”

“Sergio?”

“He’s not family. He supplies chemicals to various businesses, but he’s attached to a plant Sergio owns. To make extra, he informs Sergio about unusual activities. I got him to talk.”

“And?” My heart beats hard and fast.

“He supplies to Niko to his South Side laundromat.”

“The drug manufacturing business?” Niko churns out high-grade drugs that are then cut to low grade. I know the business front. I know where it is. I’m on my feet, gun in hand.

“Yeah. He has a routine scheduled delivery tonight. When he was leaving, he saw Niko enter with a kid that matches Sasha’s description. He noticed because of the hour and the fact the kid seemed distressed. Also, he only delivers on nights when the place is empty.”

“Meet me there. ”

I’m half out the door, phone in my hand, barking out orders for teams to be at the ready and to meet me there. To arm themselves to the teeth. I get my driver and a guard, and we take off.

Shit. If it’s Sasha… It’s got to be. I need to let Erin know. No, I need to tell Ilya. I try to calm myself so I can deal with this. I can’t afford mistakes.

Ilya doesn’t pick up. It rings to voicemail. What the fuck? Maybe he’s on the phone.

We drive and when we arrive, the laundromat is quiet. Dark. I glare at it. The fury and the need for my son building in my veins.

Fuck this noise.

I’m going to storm the fucking place and—I stop and make myself breathe. I then grip the door, shaking.

A man appears in front of the door, and then he slides into the front. Pavel looks at me over the seat. “You’re not going in alone, Boss.”

I grit my teeth. There’s only one reason he’s not dead or bleeding on the pavement, and that’s because I didn’t open that door. Not because he stood there in an attempt to block me. I appreciate he knows me well enough to know I just might storm in.

But I’m no good to Erin or Sasha dead.

And storming in without backup could be a suicide mission. I don’t know what’s in there.

Niko.

With my son.

And a whole lot of guns.

“The guy said the place was empty. When he delivers, it’s always empty, and he has to go through to the back to put the chemical barrels in. Hook them up, take out the old ones. His job is a straight man’s job. He delivers, he takes the empties, he leaves. If the cops?— ”

“I fucking know what a straight man is, Pavel,” I snarl. We use them too. A safeguard middleman, a witness that everything’s on the up and up. “Where the fuck are the reinforcements?”

“On their way,” the guard says.

Pavel types something on his phone. “We’re making sure we’re ready for anything.”

The protocol is spot-on and it drives me fucking insane. I don’t want to do this by the book. I want to storm the gates and rain hell down.

Any other time, I would.

But it’s Sasha.

An innocent two-year-old.

My son.

And I owe Erin to get him out safely.

If he’s there.

Fuck.

I call Ilya again, but it goes to voicemail. Whoever he’s talking to or whatever is going on with his phone better be vital or I’m ripping his heart from his chest.

A black SUV arrives. No lights.

Then a second. A third.

That’s it. Backup. I’m out of the damn car so fast I give myself whiplash.

“Pavel, with me.” And I look at the guard and nod. “You, too.”

I hand out orders. Half the third car are coming in with me through the front. The second are taking the back and the third the side entrance.

“Kill anyone you see, anyone in our way, but do not touch my son.”

The men nod, muttering affirmatives.

I take a breath and will my ice to return, to be so far removed that this is another mission. But I can’t. The best I can do is not shake.

We storm the fucking laundromat.

Empty.

No one’s there, not even a lone guard. So where the fuck did Niko go? What was the point of coming here with Sasha if it was to take him elsewhere. What was the point of the risk of being seen? To taunt?

Something is off.

And it’s starting to reek.

Did someone tip them off? Fuck, if the guy was Sergio’s, maybe the take on him as not being family is off. I’m about to call Sergio when I hear a faint cry.

My heart lurches.

I motion to the men to stop, and everyone freezes.

There it is again.

Heart stopping, I tear off toward the noise coming from the storage room that had been checked.

Checked for men, not my son alone.

It’s sobbing. A small child. Fuck, where. “Sasha?”

“Mama!” And then comes, “Dino?”

“I’m here, Sasha!”

I dive into the boxes, opening them, throwing the fresh sheets all over the place as I try to find him. But he isn’t there.

What if they planted a monitor?

I’m shaking as I wade into the next lot of boxes, all empty until I reach the one on the bottom, taped up. I rip off the tape and open it and I howl out.

Sasha is there, huddled in some sheets, tear-stained, his lip quivering. “I want Mama!”

His little arms raise up to me, and I scoop him up, holding him tight against me .

I don’t pause. I race out to the SUV, my men flanking me, guns out as we go.

In the safety of the car, Sasha clings to me. I hold him tight.

There’s no way Niko took my son and left him. Which means he thought he had my lover’s kid.

Which means…

Oh. Fuck.

I think they might be after Erin.

Taking Sasha was a diversion.