“Answer me, damn it!” I snarl.
“We don’t know,Pakhan,”Edik answers first. “We’ve scoured the security footage for clues but all we got is footage of Annika being carried out the back of the gallery by a masked man. He put her in a blacked out sedan with no plates that headed west, that’s all we got.”
My mind is in a frenzy of panic and need. I had my back turned for a second.A second,and that was all it took for those bastards to kidnap my wife.
“Tolya and Eve are with our tech team, trying to pull any calls or radio frequencies that might be useful,” Yana answers. “But it’s New York City,Pakhan.There’s millions to sort through.”
“There’s got to be something more,” I say, looking over my people. “Something we missed. Where’s Valya? Yulian? They were right there. I’ll question them myself.”
“They’re gone too,” Edik replies, his voice curt.
“I don’t have to tell you how this looks,” he goes on when I focus my gaze on him. “All three of them,justthem, vanish?”
I grit my teeth, knowing what he’s actually trying to say.I told you so.But I can’t accept it. Call me naive or downright stupid, but I can’t. Annika cared-caresfor me. More than anyone ever has, and I feel it in my bones. If Annika is with her father, it isn’t by choice. At least…I pray isn’t. If it is…
“Go back out,” I demand, “Search Yulian’s house again. The Four Seasons. Any of his business holdings.”
My men and Yana turn to leave at once.
I pull out my phone, trying yet again to call my brother. Pyotr wasn’t at the opening, but I neededeveryoneon this. It rings over and over again until his lazy voicemail instructs me to ‘say what you need to and fuck off’ for the fifteenth time.
“And for fucks sake,” I yell into the hall, “Find my brother and tell him to get his head out of his ass!”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Annika
“Easy now. Easy.”
I let out a soft groan, fighting through the heavy blanket of unconsciousness that has hold of me.
“Papa?” I croak, recognizing his voice.
I try to set up, but hands gently push me back down.
“Don’t get up,” my father tells me, his voice laced with fear. “Stay still. They’ll hurt you, maybe even the baby if you don’t stay still.”
My eyes feel like they’ve been scrubbed with sandpaper, but I pry them open. Soft light from a blurry unicorn touch lamp laminates the room- and I suddenly realize it'smyroom. I blink a little, trying to push the scratchiness in my eyes away, and my father’s face comes into focus.
His face matches the worry in his voice.
“I’m so sorry,doch,”he rasps, pushing my hair out of my face, “I’m so sorry.”
I try to sit up, but restraints tug against my wrists, and I begin to panic through the drug-induced haze.
“What are you doing?” I demand. “What did you give me? Where’s Kirill? What have you-”
“I had no choice!” My father snaps, his weary expression twisting into anger. “You don’t understand, it needed to be done!”
“Papa,” I say warily, feeling the drugs wear off a little more, “What did you do? Why am I here?”
“Don’t fight it,doch,”my father wearily replies, moving off my bed. “It is the only way to keep you and your sister safe.”
“Safe?” I snarl, feeling my rage burn through what’s left of the drugs. “Thisis safe?!”
“You’ll see,” my father tells me, turning away from me. “Once it’s done. You’ll see.”
I pull at the restraints again, ignoring his earlier command to be still.
