I'm moving before he finishes the sentence, my hand wrapping around his throat. "A distraction for what?"
He doesn't answer, just keeps smiling that infuriating smile, even as I squeeze harder. His face turns red, then purple, but he doesn't break, doesn't give me anything.
"Boss." Matvey's hand on my shoulder pulls me back. "The estate."
I release the man, and he gasps for air, coughing and sputtering. But even through the pain, I can see the satisfaction in his eyes. He got what he wanted. He kept us here long enough.
"Kill him," I tell Matvey. "Make it quick. Then round up whoever's left of his crew and send them a message they won't forget."
I don't wait to see it done. I'm already running back to the SUV, my phone pressed to my ear as I dial the estate. It rings once. Twice. Three times.
"Sir?" One of the guards finally answers.
"Where's my wife?" The words come out as a growl.
"She went for a jog, sir. About twenty minutes ago."
My blood turns to ice. "Where?"
"On the grounds. She's still on the property."
"Find her. And get every available man searching." I end the call and throw myself into the driver's seat. Matvey barely has timeto get in before I'm peeling out of the docks, tires squealing on concrete.
The drive back to the estate takes fifteen minutes. It feels like fifteen hours. My hands grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles are white, and my mind races through every terrible possibility. If they've taken her. If they've hurt her. If I'm too late.
I think about the way she looked this morning, standing in my office with fire in her green eyes, demanding to be treated with respect. The way her blonde hair had fallen over one shoulder, the way her T-shirt had clung to her breasts. The way she'd challenged me, pushed back, refused to be cowed.
She's magnificent. Infuriating, stubborn, and absolutely fucking magnificent. And if anything happens to her, I'll burn this entire city to the ground.
The estate gates are already open when we arrive, with guards positioned at strategic points. I don't slow down, just barrel through and onto the main drive. My security watch vibrates against my wrist, but I ignore it. Whatever alert it's sending can wait.
"There." Matvey points toward the eastern section of the grounds, where the jogging path winds through the trees.
I see her immediately. Even from this distance, I'd recognize that blonde ponytail, the athletic grace of her movements. She's running, her body moving with the kind of fluid efficiency that comes from years of practice. For a second, relief floods through me so intense, it's almost painful.
Then I see them.
Three men step out from behind a stand of trees, blocking her path. They're not wearing my colors. Not my men. And the way they're positioned, the way they're moving toward her with predatory intent, makes my vision go red.
27
MARIYA
Istare at the three men blocking my path, and every muscle in my body tenses. The one in the middle is tall, maybe six-two, with dark hair and a scar running down his left cheek. The other two flank him like bookends, both built like brick walls. They're all wearing casual clothes, but there's nothing casual about the way they're looking at me. Like I'm prey they've been hunting.
The middle one takes a step forward, his hands raised in what's probably supposed to be a non-threatening gesture. But I can see the gun holstered at his hip, the knife strapped to his ankle. These men came prepared.
"It would be in your best interests to come quietly with us," he says, his accent thick. Russian. Of course, he's Russian.
My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat, but I force myself to stay calm. To think. Three against one, all of them bigger and stronger than me. But my father taught me that size isn't everything. Speed matters. Surprise matters. And rightnow, they think I'm just some scared woman who'll do what she's told.
They're wrong.
"Fuck yourselves," I say and deliver a roundhouse kick to the middle man's jaw.
The impact sends a shock up my leg, but it's worth it. His head snaps to the side, and he stumbles backward, blood already streaming from his mouth. For one brief, beautiful moment, all three men freeze in surprise. They weren't expecting me to fight back, weren't expecting me to know how.
I use that moment to run.
