Page 91 of Possessive Mafia Bodyguard

“There is no guarantee that Ivana will be found alive.” He lowers his voice, keeping this information between us.

“Perhaps this child will give her a sense of purpose.”

I don’t add that she has the life growing inside her to keep her grounded too. Tamara and I have yet to discuss the pregnancy, and I’m taking nothing for granted.

Leonid places a hand on my shoulder. Man to man. “We’ll do everything we can. I just want her to know that.”

He cares. Tamara doubted him when Ivana went missing, but her emotions were running wild. Deep down, she knows that he has always had their best interests at heart; all I must do now is help her recognize this again.

I follow her inside, where we find Andrej set up in the control room, computer screens pinpointing the locations of vessels around the St. Lawrence Seaway, the Great Lakes, and out to the Atlantic.

He is speaking Russian into a handheld device when we enter, his gaze sliding our way, acknowledging the child in Tamara’s arms, and then back to the monitors lining the wall. I pull out a seat for Tamara and Katya, feeling powerless.

Everything rests on the equipment that Andrej has commandeered in this building, and the resources that he is clearly pulling in from every direction.

Finally, he ends the call and faces us, his eyes scanning the little girl in Tamara’s arms, the blood spatters on Tamara’s face now visible in the stark light, and the wound on her arm. “I called the emergency services,” he says.

“They’ve checked her over.” I answer on Tamara’s behalf. “I’ll see that they’re taken to the ER.”

When we find Ivana. They both have something to hold on for until then.

For Tamara, everything rests on locating her sister. If we don’t… How will I convince her that her sister’s death wasn’t her fault? How will I get her to choose life over guilt?

It’s a momentous fucking task, but I’ll never stop trying.

“Talk us through it,” I suggest to Andrej.

Anything to keep Tamara focused. She needs facts as well as hope, information that she can process and understand, to prevent fear for her sister from dragging her down into a worm hole she’ll never climb out of.

“I’ve spoken to other port authorities around the country.” Andrej unfolds the bloody schedule that Tamara gave him and traces a trajectory with his fingertip. “Working on the assumption that the Bratva waited until they were in empty waters and out of reach of passing vessels, we’ve narrowed it down to an area here.”

He points to one of the screens in front of him, where a green circle has pinpointed the center of the most likely location and expanded to an initial search area based on the ocean’s current and weather patterns. I don’t ask the size of the area; some information is best left unspoken.

“Who’s searching for her?” Tamara asks in a small voice.

For the first time since being rescued from the shipping container, Katya turns her face away from her savior and looks at me and Andrej.

From her size, I would guess her age to be around seven or eight, and the thought of what those fucking monsters would do to her makes me feel physically sick. Maybe I’m wrong. I know nothing of the child’s history, so maybe she is smaller than other children of her age because she comes from an environment where she was starved rather than nurtured. But no child should ever have eyes hollowed out by the horrors they’ve experienced first-hand. No child should have sunken cheeks and protruding collarbones, and an overwhelming fear of everyone they meet.

But especially an overwhelming fear of men.

Sure, I can’t change the world, and I know that fear exists. Has always existed. But change has to start small, and I’ve already made up my mind that I will do whatever it takes to make Katya whole again. Little by little. Even if it takes the rest of my life, I will prove to her that not all humans are capable of unspeakable evil.

“The United States Coast Guard is patrolling the area.” Andrej looks tired too, the dark puffy circles under his eyes exacerbated by the overhead strip lighting. “We have helicopters scanning the water from above.”

“I want to go,” Tamara says.

At first, I think that she wants to leave the port because it’s too stressful waiting around for news. But one look at her clenched jaw, and I realize that she wants to be out there, she wants to join the search party, she wants to be close to her sister even if they never find her. Sitting still, safe and secure in the Port of Chicago building, is torturing her.

“Sweetheart…” I crouch beside her and squeeze her hand, mindful of getting too close to Katya. “Those people out there searching for your sister… They’re the experts. They know what they’re doing. They know exactly what to look for.”

“It’s unprecedented to carry out a search of this scale at night,” Andrej adds. “I’ve called in just about every favor ever owed to our family.”

Her dark eyes hop back and forth between us as if the movement is costing her the last of her energy. It’s only a matter of time before she goes into shock and her system starts shutting down to block out the trauma. When that happens, I’ll have no choice but to intervene.

“But they don’t know Ivana,” she murmurs.

“Ivana.” The whisper catches us all off-guard. Katya is watching Tamara closely, her body curled into a peanut shape, making herself as small as possible.