Page 47 of Claimed By my Ex’s Uncle

"You would never do that," I whisper, trying to convince myself as much as him. "Ilya would never forgive you. You’ll never see Alexei become heir if that happened.”

"And I’m not going to see it happen if you keep this baby, either," he replies. "So what’s it going to be? You going to see sense and go to the clinic? Or are we going to have to find another way to settle this?”

As he glares me down, panicky shadows tug at the edge of my visions, ears ringing as the terror sets in. I don’t know if I am going to be able to get out of this, or if my baby will make it out in one piece, either.

I have walked into a nightmare I cannot wake up from. And barring a miracle, I don’t see myself coming to anytime soon.

Chapter 25

Ilya

"Fuck!”

My exclamation fills the room as I push over the bed, sending it crashing to the ground so loudly that I’m sure the entire house shakes. I rub a hand over my face, trying to bring myself back down to earth, but every cell in my being is screaming at me that something is terribly, terribly wrong.

Sergei’s not here. I’ve searched this place inside out to find him, sending my men to the far corners of my property and beyond to track down my second-in-command, but there’s no sign of him anywhere. Even his room looks entirely normal, as if he’s just stepped out to catch his breath. I have rooted through his closet, his wardrobe, under his bed, looking for anything that might explain where he’s gone and what he’s planning.

But there’s nothing. Not a goddamn fucking thing. Apart from the clear-cut certainty that the man I have trusted with so much for so long has turned his back on me.

And I don’t know what the fuck I’ve done to deserve that.

I can’t wrap my head around it, can’t begin to make sense of it. What haven’t I given him that he’s been left wanting? That bastard, I have worked with him for years, laid my trust at his feet, put him in charge of more than anyone else ever had access to, and for what? For him to turn on me when I least expected it, when my child is coming into the world, as though he owes me no loyalty at all? It makes no fucking sense to me, but there’s no way this is a coincidence.

Petar is gone, out of state, on the run for his crimes with no intention of returning. He wouldn’t risk taunting Rose or trying to threaten her, not when he knows the risks; he already has the cops on his ass, and he’s not trying to bring me down on him, too. No, whoever left that note, they were in the house with all the access they needed. Sergei is the only one who can move in this place without anyone second-guessing him.

But why? That’s the part I can’t make sense of. Why the fuck would he do this to me? Has he been planning it all along, waiting for the perfect time to strike? Or has something triggered this sudden betrayal?

I’m about to sink down onto the floor to catch my breath when I notice something fluttering out from between the mattress and the bedframe. It looks to be a photograph. I grab it at once, desperate for anything that might help me make sense of this. When I turn it over, I find myself faced with an image of a man I recognize at once.

Sergei. Younger—much younger than he is now. He looks to be in his early twenties in this image, gazing up at the camera with a grin half a mile wide on his face. And in his arms...

In his arms is a baby.

I stare down at it for a long moment, my brain struggling to make sense of what I am seeing. A child? He has a child? He’s never so much as mentioned a kid to me, but I can see, even in this grainy image, that the kid has to be his – same dark hair, same color eyes. Plus the smile on his face, that’s the smile of a proud new father, I am sure of it.

I flip the image over in my hands. Alexei and Sergei, 2004 is scrawled on the back in messy handwriting, and my brows dig together as I try to interpret it.

Sergei has had a child all this time? A child he hasn’t told me anything about? A child he’s been keeping a picture of in his room to remember him by?

With a secret this big that he’s kept from me so long, there has to be a reason for it. And I can’t believe that the reason has nothing to do with his sudden vanishing here and now. I don’t know how the pieces fit together yet, but I am goddamn certain I will find out, one way or another.

Footsteps stride along the corridor towards me, and I stuff the picture into my pocket, just in case it’s Sergei returning. I don’t want him to figure out that I know his secret; not so soon, anyway.

But instead, I find Gerard standing in the door, his face grim.

"Rose is gone."

The world spins on its axis for a moment as I take in those words.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I demand, striding towards him as if he’s the one who is responsible for Rose’s absence. He backs off slightly, clearly not wanting to deal with the full force of my rage, and shakes his head.

"That’s all I know," he replies. "Maxim and Hector went to take their shift at her room, and they said she was gone. Pulled some of the CCTV footage, and it looks like she made a break for it when you had all the guards gathered."

Shit. I should have known that she might try to pull something like this again. No matter how sure I am that she’s listening to me, I have to understand that she’s not the kind of woman who can be controlled, not the kind of girl I can just lock down and hope for the best. When I called all the guards in, I interrogated them about Sergei’s whereabouts. All the while, I had thought—stupidly, I can see now—that she would take me at my word when I told her not to go anywhere.

"Where did she go?" I demand, making for the stairs and taking them two at a time. Gerard struggles to keep up, and when I reach the ground floor, I see a dozen or so of my men spread out, already beginning the search.

"We don’t know, but we’re working on finding out," he promises me. "We’re pulling some footage from the traffic cameras along the street to see if there’s anything else we can go on."