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“The emotion is,” I reply coldly, “but the legality is not.”
She stares at me with a knowing look. “And what about the physical, Andrei?”
And before I can respond, she rips the pen out of my hand and signs her name brusquely before we walk out, hand in hand, to join the reception.
Chapter 21
Andrei
Tapping my index finger, I sit alone at the main table in the banquet hall and wait for something to happen. The day was planned for conflict and upheaval, but so far, the only hiccup has been some undercooked chicken. The kitchen staff is better at shooting than cooking, and they scurry past me, avoiding my stony gaze.
But instead of the Karamazovs, my mind is focused on the other missing thing here.
I lean back in my chair and eye the empty seat beside me. Paige should’ve been in here by now. How long does it take to wash your face?
I stand up to survey the circular tables draped in white damask. My mother had a say in the decorations. She wanted the austere and grand interior to look airy and light and reflect her happiness. White, lavender, and gold balloons decorate the dreary gray walls. Assorted white and lavender flowers in gold vases make up the centerpieces. And a ton of food surrounds a block of ice carved to look like two swans.
All eyes watch my moves, and each guest is instantly on alert. Hands slip into jackets, and purses unlatch as assassins and soldiers all reach for their handguns.
Paige’s bridesmaids, minus Natasha, are all seated. Through the archway, Natasha rushes into the room and looks around the hall before cautiously looking at me. I motion her over. She moves quickly despite her purple heels. Her wide eyes speak before she can open her mouth.
“Find her,” I grit out.
Natasha turns and gestures at the other bridesmaids discreetly with a single dip of her head. They stand up to follow—a column of pinkish lavender rushing out of the central archway.
I know what the phony guests are thinking. They’re thinking the worst, as I am.
Paige must have become the first fatality of the evening. Her bleeding corpse is a harbinger of what’s coming for us. I didn’t anticipate that something could happen in the few steps from the hallway to the banquet hall. I should’ve had eyes on her at all times.
A moment later, Natasha returns. Her expression transmits concern.
“We can’t find her in the building, Andrei Vasilyevich,” she whispers. “Inessa and Katerina are searching the grounds.”
“Andrushka.” Mother sits beside me, her posture still and composed. “Is everything all right?”
I don’t answer her. My chest tightens in my shirt as my rage climbs out of control. A low murmur rises as voices question what is going on.
Dammit.
I know what is going on. Paige isn’t dead. She’s escapedagain. I stand up from the table and walk out, ignoring the questioning eyes that follow my every move as I barrel out of the room.
Natasha stumbles behind me down the hallway, her heels clattering against the polished wood.
“It’s an isolated park,” she says breathlessly as she matches my pace. “It would be impossible for anyone to enter and exit without security knowing.”
“Have Dmitri check the perimeter. No one leaves.”
Natasha brings her phone to her ear. And I leave her behind, kicking an outside door open. Satisfied, I hear a loud crack when it slams into the wall. My fists tighten in fury at Paige’s inability to understand.
When I find her …
Security men in dark suits look like black sheep grazing across the lawn. They search the grounds carefully, working their way toward the road. Dmitri catches up as I cross the gravel driveway toward the old carriage house where the utility vehicles are stored. Those are the only vehicles that are not locked up.
“We checked the garage,” he catches his breath, “but she’s not hiding in there.”
“I didn’t expect her to be.” I swing open the door and visually check the spaces.
A weak light from a dusty window illuminates an empty space wide enough for a golf cart.
