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Leaving the lively ambiance behind, I made my way to the elevator, my high heels echoing through the corridors.
As the doors closed, my mind buzzed with thoughts of love and love. An unease prickled at my senses, but I brushed it off as nerves.
Stepping into my office, I retrieved my clutch from the desk, eager to retreat to the comfort of my bed.
However, I couldn’t resist taking one last glance at the enchanting New York City night through the window, captivated by how the city lights shimmered like a sea of diamonds against the dark sky.
Suddenly, goosebumps spread across my skin, and a chill ran down my spine. A strange feeling crept into the room, putting me on edge. The door to my office swung open quietly, causing my heart to race.
Then, a familiar smell filled the room, taking over my senses and stirring up dark memories.
It was a scent I knew instantly, one that carried a name.
Mikhaïl Volkov.
Chapter
Forty-One
“The only way to find true happiness is to risk being completely cut open.”
? Chuck Palahniuk
Volk
“Tomorrow’s her big night,” Alexsei’s voice crackled through the phone.
I strolled into my office, phone glued to my ear, deep in my weekly call with Alexsei.
I knew it was messed up, amplifying my agony by having him trail her every move, but it was more about ensuring her safety, a way for me to have the reassurance she was truly safe.
“She’ll probably even meet the love of her life,” he continued.
My voice rumbled low. “Keep pushing your luck, and the next time I see you, a bullet’s finding its way between your eyes.”
“I heard Lucas Montblanc will be there,” he continued, brushing aside my threat like it was nothing. “Maybe she’ll succumb to his charms too. Every girl fancies a French lover at some point.”
Rage was building up inside me, a fiery torrent that could easily shred the last remnants of my almost nonexistent self-control.
It was digging into me, a bothersome itch I couldn’t scratch away.
This fucker knew me too well.
“Enough,” I snapped, eager to change the subject. “I’ve got news of my own. Found Marina.”
Alexsei’s tone shifted, his surprise evident. “Where?”
“In a whorehouse near Volgograd.”
After watching Sofiya walk away from me, I immersed myself in running Igor’s business, now my own. Hunting down Marina became my sole purpose, the perfect outlet for the revenge Sofiya deserved. The memories of her nearly freezing in that icy lake—lips blue, body trembling with cold—ignited a fiery rage every time they crossed my mind.
I knew the moment I laid eyes on Marina, her hours were numbered.
Chasing her was a real pain. I had a gut feeling she’d orchestrated her escape perfectly, knowing exactly where to run and vanish.
But they don’t call me Volk for no reason. Like a wolf defending its pack, sometimes the teeth have to come out and leave a mark.
After weeks of searching, I finally found her.
