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“Missing? How does a sheltered nineteen-year-old girl slip past Egor’s security?” Vasili had asked.
“I don’t know, sir. The newest intel says she stole her father’s Bentley and took off,” the man had answered. “We have the license plate number. Our men are watching the roads. Wherever she pops up next, we’ll know.”
“Good. When you find her, I want to be the first to know. And don’t scare her away. Clearly the girl is skittish,” Vasili said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh, and tell your men not to harm a single hair on her pretty head. It would be such a pity to spoil a perfectly good wife for my son before he even has a chance to do it himself. That is all. You are dismissed.” Vasili had waved his hand.
“Yes, sir,” the security guard had said, then he’d given a deferential bow and stalked off, leaving Mikhail fuming next to his father.
“How the hell are we supposed to join forces with Egor Baranov when he can’t even keep his own daughter under control? He’s a liability, and so is she,” Mikhail had spat bitterly.
“I’ve always taught you to take care of your belongings and take pride in your work, Mikhail. The Baranov brat has provided an excellent opportunity for both,” he’d replied. “You will have plenty of time to break her later on. First, you must bring her home.”
It was proving to be one of the most annoying operations he had ever been a part of. Mikhail was built for violence. He was a punisher, an enforcer, a hunter. He was meant to be running the streets with an iron fist, not chasing a flighty teen bride up the West Coast. The mission seemed below his pay grade. But he knew the importance of getting her back. Vasili didn’t have much time left, and there was still so much to do before Mikhail ascended to Pakhan. ‘Losing’ Annika right before their arranged diplomatic marriage made the Sokolovs look weak, even though it was the Baranovs who had let her slip away. Mikhail was determined not to let his father die with his honor tarnished.
He had followed intel from Sokolov Brigadiers and had Brodyaga stationed throughout Nevada and California, who watched the roads and kept tabs on Annika as she fled the state. She was a sneaky one, to be sure, and Mikhail thought it was kind of funny that she’d managed to steal Egor Baranov’s Bentley, but he refused to admire her for it. Not when she was causing so much commotion for both families. Luckily, the Bentley stuck out like a sore thumb, and once the spies had hammered out a potential route for her, it had been easy to track her down. Even luckier that the girl was foolish enough to have run out of fuel on the road. He wondered what she was like. On the one hand, she had enough pluck to pull something like this. On the other hand, she was naïve to think it would work. With Mikhail Sokolov hot on her trail, there was no hope of escape. He would have found her, no matter how far she’d fled.
Mikhail stood at the window again, gritting his teeth as the sun sank lower in the sky. It was turning out to be a beautiful sunset, but he was unmoved by the natural beauty. He pulled out his cell phone and watched a tracker beep on the map. His Bratok was moving closer to the hotel now, just seconds away, with Annika in custody. The tracker slowly turned into the parking lot. Mikhail looked up and saw the sedan, sure enough, pulling into a space close to the exterior staircase to the second level. They were right below his window now. He couldn’t see much from this bird’s-eye angle and through the tinted windows, but he knew it was time to act.
He grabbed his gun and concealed it under his jacket. He moved in utter silence out of the room and down the staircase. The ocean breeze wrapped around him as he approached the sedan’s passenger side. He bent down and peered through the window to see his bride for the first time. She was surprisingly pretty, with her sleek black hair and large green eyes. Her face was pale and twisted with fear. Mikhail gave her a smirk as he slowly revealed the gun. She clapped a hand over her mouth in horror, making Mikhail laugh. He stood up.
The driver stepped out of the vehicle and stood at attention. Mikhail said, “Good work. Get her inside and you’re free to go.”
The driver nodded and joined Mikhail as they tentatively opened the passenger-side door and reached in to grab her. The girl immediately recoiled, shaking her head. “No, no, no. Please don’t,” she gasped. She kicked and flailed at him, making it hard to get ahold of her.
“Come here,” Mikhail growled, and pulled her out by the arm. She began to twist and yank away from him, her pretty lips parting to scream. She let out a strangled yelp before Mikhail thrust the cold barrel of his gun into her ribs and leaned in to hiss in her ear, “Be quiet or I’ll silence you forever.”
The girl went limp as a rag doll, knowing she was defeated. Mikhail and his henchman dragged her up the stairs and into the motel room. Mikhail shut the door on her and turned to his inferior to say, “I’ve got it from here. Inform the others that I’m bringing the bitch back to Vegas.”
The man nodded obediently and left. Mikhail watched him drive away, then turned back and stepped into the hotel room, locking it behind him. Now, for the first time ever, he had some time alone with his betrothed. Annika was breathing heavily, her perky chest rising and falling as she gritted her teeth, glaring at him. She was backed against the bed, unarmed, defenseless, and yet she wasn’t falling apart. No tears, no pleading. Only seething hatred on her gorgeous face. She was a feral cat in an alleyway, hissing and spitting at an enemy twice her size.
“Who the hell are you? Let me go!” she shot at him.
Mikhail scoffed and crossed his arms. “Don’t be stupid. You know who I am, and you know exactly why I’m here,” he said.
Her face flooded pink with rage and embarrassment as it dawned on her. She took one aggressive step toward him and spat, “You’remy fiancé?”
“Andyou’rea pain in my ass,” Mikhail retorted. “You’ve wasted everybody’s time, and for what? So you could play out some bullshit romantic runaway fantasy for a few days?”
“I don’t want to marry you! I don’t care what my father says. I’m going to New York. I don’t want to be a part of this!” Annika shouted.
“You thinkIwant to marryyoueither?” Mikhail snarled. He closed the gap between them in two aggressive strides, forcing Annika to shrink away from him.
Mikhail’s eyes flashed with dangerous intent as he stared her down. “After everything the Baranovs have done, you should feel fucking honored to join us. Do you know how many women would die to take your place?”
“Then let them take it!” the young woman exclaimed. “Come on; if neither of us wants this, then just let me go. We never have to see each other again!”
“My father, the Pakhan, has chosen you for me. It’s going to happen, whether you like it or not,” he snapped.
“Your father can go to hell,” she spat fiercely.
Mikhail reached out and grabbed her by the throat so quickly she could only gasp, her eyes bugging out of her head.
He leaned in close and snarled, “Just because your spineless rat of a daddy let you disrespect him doesn’t mean I will. Listen to me. You aren’t one of them anymore. And if you dare breathe one more word against my father, I will cut you down so fast you won’t even have time to plead for mercy.”
Mikhail let Annika’s delicate hands scrape weakly at his much larger hand wrapped around her throat for a few seconds, just watching her squirm. Mikhail knew exactly how much pressure he could apply without causing permanent damage. Then, he released her, shoving her back against the bed. She coughed and wheezed, clutching at her throat. She looked up at him with mingled terror and rage, but she knew she was in over her head.
