“WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?!”
My roar echoes around the warehouse as I stare at the cowering men whom I call soldiers.
Misha’s the only one dumb enough to offer, “We have every man out looking for her. We’re even goddamn coordinating with the Irish! I’m not sure there’s much else we can do, Maxim.”
Notthe right answer.
My brother withers under my rage-fueled stare.
“Who’s following the police scanners?”
“I am,shukher,” Kirill, my left-hand to Misha’s right-hand, states.
“Anything at all?”
“Not in the city.”
“Where the fuck have those bastards taken her then?!” I growl, muscles bunching as I punch my desk and then kick it.
Shit goes flying, but I don’t care. I could raze this warehouse to the fucking ground and it still wouldn’t alleviate the guilt that has me wanting to drop to my knees.
I told her I’d protect her and here we are, the day after we were supposed to be married and she’s still missing!
“Get me Tima,” I snarl at Misha.
“Max, youneed to calm down?—”
“Youcalm down, Misha.” I bare my teeth.“Do as I fucking say.” Once he obeys, I snatch his phone from his hands. “Update?”
“I’ve spoken to several cops on our payroll, Maxim, but nobody’s seen her. I’m talking no one. She’s like a ghost.”
I hurl the cell at the wall.
“Max,” Misha warns, flicking a look behind me.
I twist around and find Brennan, Eoghan, and Aidan O’Donnelly standing near the warehouse entrance.
The first two aren’t unexpected. They keep their hands dirty, but Aidan’s presence is a shock. He’s like God. Watching over the city and making everyone dance to his tune.
Their expressions are blank canvases with little painted on them. But an absence of emotion means nothing where family’s concerned.
With urgency I haven’t experienced in years, I stride over to them. “Have you heard anything?”
Jaw working, Aidan studies the collection of men in my warehouse. “Allpolkóvniks.” Captains. “You have gone to war for our Victoria.”
The addition of the “our” pisses me off even more.
“She’s mine. Of course I have. And she’s only on this goddamn path because she wants to prove herself to you.” I jab him with my finger. “If she’s hurt, it’s on you.”
Aidan lifts his hand, grabs his chin, and cracks his neck. “I agree.”
My eyes narrow in surprise.
“There’s no trace of her in Poughkeepsie and NYC in our territories. I had Conor track the vehicle used to drive her from the drop-off point. Are you sure you got the right license plate?”
I turn to Misha, who forces out a chuckle. “Are you kidding me? He would serve my balls up for dinner if I made a mistake with that number. I took it down as soon as I watched her drive off in it.”
Brennan’s jaw works. “Any clue on the driver’s ID?”
