“Vika, raise your voice at me again, and I promise it’ll be the last time you’ll ever speak.” I met his gaze, watching his anger fade.
My words were spoken calmly but laced with venom. He felt the impact and swallowed hard, fear glinting in his eyes. As stupid as he was, he knew better than to try me when I’d activated “kill mode.”
Not even his father could save him from me.
Ivan leaned in and whispered something in Vika’s ear. Seconds later, a faint grin appeared on his face as he reclined in his chair, winking at me.
I knew instantly that whatever Ivan had told him must have had something to do with Kiera. Her current location, perhaps.
Petrov brought the meeting to an end, saying the case was adjourned until next time.
On my way back home, unease gnawed at me, and Vika’s cocky smirk wouldn’t stop replaying in my head. I felt it in my gut that the asshole was up to no good. In this world of ours, there were a million ways to make people disappear and make the whole thing look like an accident.
Vika had used that technique countless times. What’s to say he wasn’t going to use it again? He was desperate to get rid of her. And a desperate man was capable of anything.
“Turn the car around,” I said to Boris. “Take me to Kiera’s.”
He stole a glance at me through the rearview mirror and did as I told him.
After a short drive, we pulled up outside her apartment, and he killed the engine.
“Wait here,” I said, stepping out of the car.
I closed the door behind me and began walking toward her entrance, fingers undoing the button of my suit. My shoes scuffed against the pavement, my heart racing as I neared her place.
Why in God’s name was I feeling so anxious? It was just Kiera. Not the Queen of England. I raised my hand, about to knock, when I noticed her door was slightly ajar.
My breath hitched, my hand instinctively reaching for the gun tucked in my pants. I looked back at Boris, signaling him to run a quick survey around the building.
He understood the mission and climbed down from the vehicle.
I grabbed the door handle, gently pushing it open as it gave way with a faint creak. Alert, I stepped inside, my shoes silent against the wooden floor.
Her place was cramped and a bit stuffy. The lights were on, the air smelled of freshly brewed coffee, and the TV was on. Her jacket was draped over the headrest of a couch in her living room.
A pile of textbooks and crumpled papers was scattered across a low coffee table. An open laptop with a lit screen sat on the couch, surrounded by more books.
The cup of coffee on the table was still steaming hot, indicating that she was around somewhere. At first, I thought she had been attacked or even taken by Vika’s men since the door had been open.
But there was no sign of forced entry—no signs of struggle. Kiera wasn’t the kind of woman to go down without afight. She’d broken the nose of one of my men the last time I sent them to abduct her.
The girl was a fighter. She killed four men in a car crash three nights ago. If they truly came after her at her apartment, the whole place would’ve been turned upside down by now.
Boris called my attention from outside the window across from me. When I met his gaze, he signaled to me that the coast was clear. Only then did I lower my weapon.
If she hadn’t been attacked, then why was her front door open? Where the hell was she?
I found my way to her bedroom, my gun tucked away in the back of my pants. The room was relatively small, and her bed was no bigger than the one in my dungeon. It was made to perfection, covered with clean white sheets, a blanket, and two pillows.
Her window was open, the white curtains swirling in the cool breeze. The scent of her perfume filled the air, a constant reminder of how badly I missed being around her.
I walked over to a nearby table, drawn by the desk frame sitting on top of it. It was a photo of her outside a courtroom in her full regalia, the black gown and the wig.
She looked stunning and professional.
I picked it up, admired the framed photo for a moment, and then set it down. That’s when my eyes caught something else—a test strip poking out from underneath the page of an open book.
Curious, I slipped it out, and my heart stopped instantly. It was a pregnancy test strip. And it read positive.
