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My heart rate quickens. Every instinct, honed over years in the underworld, screams danger. I clutch the flowers tighter, feeling the fragile petals crushing beneath my grip.
Without another word, I dash to the elevator, jamming the button for our floor. The gold-trimmed doors slide closed with agonizing slowness. Seconds tick by, feeling like hours. My mind races, conjuring up the worst scenarios.
Finally the penthouse level. The doors glide open.
The foyer shows signs of a struggle. Vases shattered. Furniture askew. And no Ana.
My heart clenches, a steel vice of dread. Panic, an emotion I rarely let myself feel, threatens to surface. I rush into the livingarea, then the bedroom, calling out her name, hoping, praying she'll answer. But the silence is oppressive, mocking.
A crisp white envelope lies on the floor, a stark contrast to the dark hardwood. With trembling fingers I pick it up, pulling out the single sheet of paper inside.
It’s the ultrasound of our child. And there’s writing on the back. Rage running through me, I slowly turn the paper over.
Romanian script dances before my eyes. Radu. Even though the language is foreign to my Russian tongue, I recognize the cruel flourish of his handwriting. That bastard.
Swearing under my breath, I pocket the note. I need it translated, and fast. Radu’s vendetta has always been a looming shadow, but to go this far, to travel across the world, to take Ana...
Shaking off the initial shock, my mind sharpens, shifting into rescue mode. Every second counts. I can’t afford mistakes.
Exiting the apartment, I make a quick stop at the front desk. The receptionist, sensing my urgency, meets my gaze with apprehension. “Do you have footage of the team?” I growl.
Nodding hastily, she taps into the security system, pulling up a video. Grainy figures, donned in utility outfits, make their way to the elevator. Their faces are obscured, but one sports a tattoo on his neck—a Romanian symbol.
“That’s all I need,” I snap, storing the image in my mind.
I storm out of the building, rage igniting every cell. I should have killed the fucker instead of giving him another chance.
But more than anything, deep down beneath the fury and fear, a single thought dominates—I will get Ana back. No matter the cost. Radu will learn, in the most brutal of ways, the price of harming the ones I love.
The hum of the city does nothing to drown out the icy storm inside me, the unrelenting anger that boils just beneath the surface. My phone buzzes, a beacon of hope in my hand.
Andrei's name flashes across the screen. The hope is short-lived. A pang of desperation hits me as I quickly answer, "Any word?"
“Not yet," Andrei's gravelly voice replies. There's a pause, a heavy exhale. "Roman's here with me. We've translated the note."
I clench my jaw, waiting.
“It says, ‘The ties of blood cannot be broken, but they can be stretched and tested. You took something precious from me, and now I've taken something precious from you. Let's see if you can reclaim what's lost before it's gone forever,’” Roman recites, his tone grim.
Every word is a knife to my chest. Radu's twisted game. I know he's playing with me, trying to rattle me, but I won't let him win.
"Samuil," Andrei starts, his voice heavy, "The entire Bratva is at your disposal. Whatever you need."
I inhale sharply, wrestling with the desperation clawing at my insides. "I appreciate that, but Radu knows it too. He's anticipating our every move."
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I've always known I could depend on Andrei, but the Atlantic separates us. Even at their fastest, hours would be lost. Hours Ana and our child might not have.
“I’m getting on the private jet with Roman and some of our best men," Andrei continues, determination in his voice. "We'llcoordinate from the skies on our way over, relay information, anything we can do."
“But” Roman interjects, “it might very well be up to you, Samuil. You're on the ground. You're closest. And I think Radu planned it this way, to make it personal. To trap you in a one-on-one fight.”
I clench the phone tighter. Alone. The shock of the realization is immense. But beneath the burden, there’s something else — resolution. If Radu wants this to be personal, then that’s what he’ll get.
"I'll find her," I state, my voice steely. "Radu will regret the day he crossed me."
Andrei's voice softens for a brief moment, a blend of camaraderie and concern. "I know you will. Just remember, you're not entirely alone. We'll be there as soon as we can."
I nod, even though they can't see it. "Thank you, Andrei. Roman."
