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RUSLAN
“Alert security,” I growl. “She has to be here somewhere.”
Kirill eyes me warily. “When did you lose sight of her?”
“Just a few minutes ago. I was following her—”Desperate for the fuck that we were both teasing each other with all night—“and then Kostya intercepted me and got in my face about some unruly son of a bitch in the VIP section. By the time he finished talking, she was gone. She was heading to one of the bathrooms.”
“Bathrooms. Got it. I’ll start with the one on this floor.”
I stride towards the first mezzanine. She was probably put off by the crowds on the ground floor. I’m trying as hard as I fucking can not to panic but there’s this gnawing feeling in my gut that’s eerily familiar.
It’s the same one I had the day of the accident.
Something’s not right. She should have returned from the bathroom by now. More importantly: I should never have let her out of my sight.
“Ruslan!” Kirill reappears and trails me to the second mezzanine. “The bathrooms on the base level are clear.”
I follow an empty corridor off to the left. It leads to a few private rooms that VIPs can book at their discretion. As I walk, I try calling Emma again. The ringtone is loud and clear—and echoing down the corridor.
Kirill and I run towards the sound… only to find her phone face down on the floor.
“Fuck,” I growl.
“It’s possible she dropped her phone.”
“This is not a fucking accident, Kirill,” I snap. “This is someone’s doing.”
I keep walking until I hit the staircase. I freeze at the landing when I see her body crumpled at the bottom of the steps.
“Call an ambulance,” I yell. “Now!”
In my head, one thought beats like a fucking drum.
No.
No.
No.
Not again.
63
RUSLAN
The drive to the hospital is a blur of traffic and frantic phone calls. I bark orders on the phone without ever letting go of Emma. She doesn’t so much as stir through any of it. The gash I found on her forehead keeps weeping blood.
“They’re checking security footage now,” Kirill informs me when I call him.
“Comb through every inch of the club. I want the motherfucker who did this so I can kill him with my bare hands.”
The paramedic gives me a startled look but I don’t give a shit what she thinks. The only thing I’m concerned about right now is Emma. I take comfort in the fact that she’s still breathing. But every time I notice a new bruise on her skin, I want to fucking tear the whole of New York City apart until I find the asshole responsible.
This kind of rage is new to me. Boxing has taught me discipline, especially where my emotions are concerned. My anger has always been restrained. But right now, it feels out of control. It feelswild. EvenI’mnot sure what I’m capable of doing.
“Sir…” The paramedic has deep blue eyes that are a similar shade as Emma’s. “You’re holding her a little too tightly.”
She reaches out to adjust my grip, but I pull Emma out of her grasp. “Don’t even think about it.”
