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“As for you,” he tells his men. “Go to the police. Make sure every car entering and exiting the city is checked, including the trunk. Mikhail, call the chief of police. Let him know we need this done.”
I’m about to call the chief of police when Vanya comes closer. Her face is lined with worry as she crouches next to Caterina’s chair.
“We’ll find her,sestra,” she murmurs, using the Russian term for sister. “You have my word.”
Caterina’s eyes glisten as she places a trembling hand over Vanya’s. A silent understanding passes between them, two mothers united in their fear and determination.
I feel a swell of gratitude for my soft-hearted sister. Out of all of us, Vanya alone knows what it’s like to be a mother.
“Go on,” Caterina whispers. “Bring our girl home.”
Vanya squeezes her shoulder and straightens, her eyes hardening with sisterly resolve. We exchange a nod, and then she’s striding out the door, already shouting orders into her phone to get her the entire school’s contact list.
I crouch down beside Caterina. “I have to go now, but I’ll be back soon. Stay strong for me, yes?”
She grips my hand tightly, her eyes shining with tears and trust. “Hurry,” she whispers.
I command my men to watch over Caterina and assign our housekeeper, Olga, to keep her comfortable. Olga is fussing over Caterina, urging her to drink some tea, before I can even leave her side.
I press a fierce kiss to Caterina’s knuckles. Then I’m on my feet and out the door, my heart racing with single-minded purpose. I will find Emiliana. No matter what it takes.
I stride into the lobby, barking orders to the men who stand at attention.
“Fyodor, take your team and scour the streets around the school to get footage from every CCTV camera around there, especially the ones overlooking the school. Andrei, coordinate with our contacts in the police department and monitor their search efforts. I want updates every fifteen minutes.”
I turn to Dima, my most trusted advisor.
“Reach out to our informants on the street. Someone must have seen or heard something.”
Dima inclines his head. “I’m on it.”
As my men rush to carry out their tasks, the atmosphere is tense, electrified. We all understand the stakes here. Emiliana, though new to this household, is the heart of this family, the living symbol of the future we fight for. If any harm comes to her…
I cut off that line of thought. No. I cannot afford to think like that now. Fear and rage will only cloud my judgment. I need to be strong, focused. For Caterina. For Emiliana.
Jaw clenched, I stride back toward the conference room. Caterina looks up at my entrance, her eyes wide and imploring. I crouch down and take her delicate hands in mine.
“I promise you, we will find her,” I vow, my voice low but vehement. “No one steals from the Zolotovs. No one.”
Caterina searches my gaze, then nods, a spark of hope flickering in her eyes. As long as that light continues to burn, we will never stop fighting. I press a fierce kiss to her forehead, then I’m up and striding out the door again.
The hunt is on. And heaven help anyone who tries to stand in my way.
Chapter 18 - Caterina
My heart pounds against my ribs as I pace the plush carpet of my bedroom. It’s been fourteen hours since Emiliana vanished from school. Fourteen agonizing hours of silence from everyone. The compound is quiet, with most of the men gone on the search for her.
I clench my fists, nails digging into my palms. How could I let this happen? I’m a horrid mother. I should have thought to buy her one of those watches with GPS tracking. Why did I think Philadelphia was safe for my child?
My angel. Bile rises in my throat as I imagine her bound and gagged in some dingy warehouse, crying for her mamma. I picture her chestnut curls matted with dirt, her cherubic cheeks streaked with tears as she lies in a ditch somewhere, hurt. She’s only six years old. My baby.
I halt at the window, peering out over the sprawling grounds surrounding the Zolotov family’s estate. Somewhere out there, my Emiliana is alone and afraid. But not for long, I pray.
Pacing to the vanity, I catch my reflection in the gilt-edged mirror. Dark circles ring my eyes, my skin sallow. I look like a ghost of myself.
My phone chimes from the bedside table, the shrill sound piercing the heavy silence that has engulfed the room. I freeze, my heart hammering against my ribs. This could be the news I’m dreading, confirmation that my precious Emiliana has been ripped away from me forever.
With trembling fingers, I pick up the phone, blinking against the harsh light of the screen in the dim room. An encrypted message from a three-digit number. Untraceable.Even before I open it, I know this won’t be good. I draw a sharp breath, steeling myself as I swipe up.
