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LUKA
Gone.
Vanished.
Disappeared into thin air.
How the fuck?
I pace the private hallway at the country club, raking a hand through my hair. My mind trips back to our conversation and I grit my teeth.
Val tried to cover it up, but I could tell something was wrong. I felt it. And goddammit, I should have pressed her for more details before she and Nik left my house with Natasha, but I was too focused on what I was about to lose.
The need to find her fiancé Dmitri and slam him against a wall so I can start beating the truth out of him consumes me like a tumultuous wave.
“Luka,” Nikolai calls out, jogging over to me. “We can’t stall for much longer. I’ve been everywhere. Mom is flipping the fuck out, and the rest of the family…”
He shakes his head. “Nobody knows anything. We’re not going to be able to keep it quiet for much longer.”
“Somebody knows something.” I stalk past my brother and head for the room where the groomsmen are gathered. “I need five minutes.”
Nik follows close behind, and we pick up two of my other brothers, Danil and Taras, on the way.
I give the door a hard shove and it slams open. The heavy wood hits the wall with such force that the picture frames shudder and fall to the floor. Glass shards skitter across the tile. I sidestep the mess, my glare closing in on the rat bastard lounging against the wall with a glass in his hand.
“Well, well. If it isn’t the fucking welcome wagon,” Dmitri, my dickhead future brother-in-law, mutters. He raises the glass to his lips and tilts his head back to down the shot.
“Everybody out!” Nikolai yells, and the men scatter like cockroaches.
My blood boils like hot lava ready to spew and incinerate. I cross the room and shove Dmitri against the wall behind him. The glass slips from his grip and shatters when it hits the floor. I press hard against his throat, glowering at his shocked expression. In seconds, his face turns as white as his starched shirt.
He may have only heard the stories about me, but he’s about to find out firsthand exactly what I’m capable of.
“Where the hell is she, Dmitri?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he sputters.
I elbow him in the sternum. “Try again.”
He gasps for breath. “She who? Val?”
“Nobody can find her, and I want to know where she is.”
“How the fuck would I know?” he yelps. “I’m not supposed to see her before the wedding.”
“When I spoke to her the other day, she sounded off, like something happened between you guys. What was she trying to hide?” I narrow my eyes, now clutching his shirt in my fists.
“She’s a fucking drama queen,” he snarls. “Always shooting off that mouth of hers and not using it the way she needs to.”
I let him go and back up before smashing my fist against his jaw. The adrenaline pumping through me blunts even the slightest tingle in my fist. “Don’t you dare disrespect her, you asshole.”
Dmitri sways on his feet after the blow, wiping the stream of blood from his lip. “Val is a spoiled little bitch who’s always looking for attention. She’s just pissed off about the arrangement. And if she really did run, when I find her, I’m gonna make sure she pays for embarrassing me like this!”
I wind up again, ready to pummel him into the wall for what he just said. Then the words sink into my muddled brain. My fist hangs in midair.
Arrangement.
“What do you mean, arrangement?”
