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He held out a ringing phone to me. The call was from an unknown caller.
I picked it up. “This is Romanov.”
“Your little queen is being chased by wolves in the woods.”
I immediately recognized the female voice. Ice shards spiked along my spine. “Onyx. How nice to finally meet you, albeit over the phone. I’m assuming you have something to do with her escape?” I was going to bury the damn hacker for this. The twins wouldn’t even get a chance to take a shot at her.
“I’ve sent her coordinates to your head of security,” she said, ignoring my comment.
As if on cue, Damon walked in. “Let’s roll.” He had a tactical team behind him, clearly already in the know.
I strode after them, trying not to lose my shit. “What happened?” I asked through clenched teeth.
“Two men in a black SUV drove her off the road,” Onyx said.
I jumped into the waiting van. “Onyx, listen to me carefully. If anything happens to her, I will slowly spit-roast you until your flesh falls from your bones.”
Damon’s eyes narrowed, but he kept silent. He knew I never made a promise I didn’t intend to keep. No matter his deal with Onyx, I knew that to him, Bratva always came first. I wouldn’t accept any less.
Onyx sighed over the phone. “That wouldn’t be fair, now would it? Especially since I’m doing you a solid here.”
“How so?” The van took off with screeching tires.
“If I hadn’t called you, you wouldn’t even know I helped Katya out,” Onyx mused. “I could have erased all evidence leading to me from her phone. In fact, it would have been easier to cover my butt. So instead of threatening me, maybe you should think about why your woman left you. Hint—being less of a dick helps.” Then she hung up on me.
I glared at Damon. “You will find this woman. And you will stop her from being a nuisance. You have three months.”
He nodded, his face tight. Onyx was becoming a liability and had just made it to the top of his to-do-list. She didn’t know it yet, but her days of roaming the world freely were soon to be over.
Damon pulled out his tablet. A map appeared with a red dot on it.
“Katya’s at a gas station.”
It was in the middle of nowhere.
“How the fuck did she end up there?”
It was a longer way to the airport, assuming Katya was on her way there. My jaw clenched when I was reminded that my wife had run from me. I wasn’t sure why it surprised me. She had vowed to do it, after all, so it was to be expected. Once she made up her mind, she was all-in.
Damon looked up. “I’m guessing she thought you wouldn’t look for her there so soon.”
“Who are the assholes after her?” Yuri asked. His hands were balled into fists, and he gave me a defiant look. “If it’s Sokolov, I’m going to fucking kill him.”
This was what Katya was capable of. Even Yuri, who normally would never verbally threaten another pakhan, let alone my old mentor, turned murderous because of her.
“It’s not Sokolov,” I said, certain of that. The old fox was a lot of things, but a protocol breaker he was not.
Damon nodded. “It’s not him. He would never go after a Vory wife.”
“Of course, that doesn’t mean that he would mind if others did,” I mused, my mind painting a picture of what must have happened. Guess the cat was out of the bag. Sokolov wouldn’t go after Katya himself anymore, but surely he’d exposed her so others might finish the job for him. It was a brilliant move, actually. Something I would do myself. Fuck.
“According to the grapevine, it’s a crew of Albanians,” Damon said as he typed on the tablet. When I raised a brow, he added, “There are rumors about Aslanov murdering the head of an Albanian family in Moscow.”
I cursed. Of course there was. No pakhan in the history of the Bratva had plowed through so many bodies.
“A car bomb took out the Albanian’s wife and kids,” Damon continued.
“I’m guessing the man himself wasn’t in the car?”
