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“Maybe not in America.” He grins. “But this is Russia.”

My pulse goes into overdrive. “Alex won’t let you get away with this.”

“He will. This time, I’m not planning on failing.”

Breathless with fright, I ask, “How is this supposed to work? What happens now?”

“Now we wait for Alex to arrive. And then…” He pushes a finger against his temple and makes as if to pull a trigger with his thumb. “Bam.”

It takes everything I have to maintain my pseudo-calm. “Why? Why do you want Alex dead? What do you want? Money?”

He gets to his feet. “If it were about money, I could’ve simply traded you.”

“Wait,” I say as he walks to the door, but he leaves without sparing me another glance.

Horror washes over me as the situation becomes terribly clear.

Alex and I aren’t leaving here alive.

34

Alex

It’s been an hour since I left the hospital, and there’s still no news about Katerina’s whereabouts. I’m pacing my study, checking my email and phone every few seconds. The lunch Tima brought stands untouched on my desk. Mikhail won’t let Dania’s interference go unpunished, but I feel like killing her all the same. I’m still undecided about what to do with Lena.

A knock falls on the door. Leonid enters, his face somber.

“Any news?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “What about Nelsky?”

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I take it out and look at the screen. I’ve been sending business-related calls to my voicemail, preferring to keep the line open in case there’s an update from one of my men.

My heartbeat picks up as I register the name on the screen.

“Have they found—” Leonid continues.

I hold up a hand to silence him. “It’s Igor.”

Leonid’s expression goes tense, reflecting what I feel inside.

I swipe the answer button and put the phone on speaker. “Tell me you have news.”

“She’s not at the airport,” Igor says in a rushed tone. “No one matching her description has checked in.”

I assume she would’ve changed into normal clothes before entering the airport building. We don’t know what she’s wearing, but my men have her passport photo on their phones. They’re questioning both passengers and airport staff, asking if anyone has seen the woman in the photograph.

“What about the parking lots?” I ask harshly.

“There was no sign of Mikhail’s car.” He pauses. “We did, however, find the driver.”

I tighten my grip on the phone. “Dania’s bodyguard?”

“Yes.”

Exchanging a look with Leonid, I ask, “Where?”

“At the morgue.”

My heart slams to a stop.

Leonid moves closer, his troubled look intensifying.

“I’m here now with one of Mikhail’s men,” Igor continues. “He identified the body.”

My order is brusque. “Tell me what happened.”

“Car accident, but that’s not the cause of death. Someone popped him in the head.”

“Fuck.” Ice fills my stomach. This is my worst nightmare come true. If anything has happened to Katerina… I can’t even think it. Rage burns like acid in my chest. “Any sign of Katerina?”

“No,” he says with regret. “But we did find the bag with the clothes, money, and passport Dania had mentioned in the trunk.”

Dania wasn’t lying. My kiska was in that car.

“What about satellite footage?” I ask, clenching the phone hard. “Are there any witnesses to the accident?”

“No one reported the accident when it happened,” Igor says. “A good half hour passed before someone called it in.”

“Inform Nelsky.” Covering the microphone with a hand, I direct the order to Leonid. “I want that satellite feed. Now.”

He hurries to the door. “I’ll let him know.”

“Comb the area where the accident took place,” I tell Igor. “Tell our men to start searching in a twenty-kilometer radius. Knock on every door and ask every person living in that vicinity if anyone has seen something. Don’t offer money. They may spew bullshit just to get the reward. Use fear instead.” It’s faster.

“Got it,” he says and hangs up.

I shut my eyes briefly, praying I find Katerina before I have to make a call to Laura that will destroy her as surely as it will destroy me.

My phone pings a second later. I look at the screen, but it’s not the satellite recording that I’m expecting from Nelsky. It’s an image of Katerina lying on a cot in a cell, handcuffed to the bedframe. The text message is signed by Vladimir Stefanov.

Motherfucker.

Fury like I’ve never experienced rushes through my veins, even as fear rips through me, cold and terrifying.

Leonid walks back into the room. “Nelsky says you’ll have the footage in five minutes.” One look at my face makes him stop in his tracks. “What’s wrong?”

I turn the screen of my phone toward him, shaking with rage as I show him the image.

He blanches. “Fuck.”

“Weapon up.” I clench my teeth so hard it feels as if my jaw is about to unhinge. “We’re going after Stefanov. I’m bringing her back.”

He pushes a hand on my chest as I take a step to the door. “It’s a trap.”

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