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We continue on our path down the hall. “Get a team together. We need to search the area from top to bottom.”
“You think she’s still on the property?”
“I fucking pray she is. Because if she is not here, she is out there.” I glare out a window to the front gates in the distance. “And if she is out there…”
I don’t say it out loud. Dima knows exactly what that could mean.
“I’m on it, boss.” He is looking at me intently. “We’ll bring her back.”
I eye him for a moment, grateful that he’s not giving me shit about being too distracted by a woman. At the same time, I’m painfully aware that it’s the truth. I can barely fucking think straight. And even knowing this, I’m still going to tear this fucking town apart until I find her.
Tiana Avants is coming home.
And when she gets here, I’m going to make sure she’s not going anywhere.
Chapter Twenty
Tiana
The blindfold is yanked off my face.
I blink against the sudden influx of light, squinting into the van’s interior. I’m so terrified that even my teeth are chattering. I cringe, squeezing my eyes shut, and waiting for something terrible to happen. Nothing happens at all. So I look up. And stare in confusion at the people surrounding me.
The small group around me couldn’t be more than their mid to late twenties, and look like they could be straight out of an office job ad. There’s a guy hunched down on a seat next to me wearing tailored trousers and a crisp white button-down beneath a lightweight navy jacket. If I expected to be snatched away by a gang of mafiosos, this is not exactly how I imagined they would look.
The guy in the button-down leans toward me. “It’s okay, you’re safe.” He gives me a smile.
I stare at them in confusion. There are three others in the van with me; a guy in the driver’s seat is dressed much like the first guy, from what little I can see, and two more are huddled in the back with us. There’s a woman in a conservative suit, and another guy wearing jeans and a white T-shirt with the words “Institute of Technology” written across the front. The woman is discreetly made up, and the men are all clean-shaven and unassuming. Normal. Oddly normal.
What the actual hell?
I’d expected to see a bunch of burly mobsters with menacing scowls waving weapons in my face. Still, my heart hammers in my chest as I try to make sense of this bizarre situation.
“Who are you?” I ask, my voice shaking with fear in spite of my determination not to panic. “Where am I?”
“Calm down!” the guy closest to me says sharply.
“Be sensitive, Greg!” The woman interrupts him. “Remember what she’s just been through.”
“We’re here to help you, Miss Avants.” The guy softens his voice. “My name is Greg Thomson… Agent Greg Thomson.” He holds out a hand. I frown at him and he looks sheepish. “Shit. Sorry.” He jerks his head at the other two behind me, and they get to work freeing my wrists and ankles from their bonds.
I rub my wrists. His hand is still extended, so I take it and shake it awkwardly. “Agent Thomson?”
“Yes.” He nods. “FBI. Again… sorry about the uh…” He waves a hand at where they’ve dropped the cable ties that had been used to bind me. “We needed to make it look convincing in case anyone saw us take you.”
My eyebrows are so tightly pulled together that I’m sure they’re about to meet. “Convincing? I’m not sure I understand.”
Agent Thomson and the others exchange glances. “We wanted to be sure that if we were spotted, it would look like you were being taken against your will.”
“I was taken against my will!”
“Right.” He awkwardly rubs his face.
“Why?” I ask. None of this is making any damned sense.
“Well… we’ve had Kirill Vyronov under surveillance for the past few months, and we didn’t want to compromise our planning.”
My mouth drops open. “You’ve what?”
