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“It’s not him,” Maksim answered for me. “There’s no way that he could know Avgust’s connection to Samara.”
“Perhaps he took her to find out her connection to Avgust,” he suggested. “When she was pulled out of here the other night, she didn’t exactly go quietly. Maybe word reached him that Avgust has an interest in her.” Gosha shrugged as possibilities continued to run through his mind. “I mean, if she has no enemies, then what else could it be?”
“Well…I mean, women randomly get attacked all the time,” Masha chimed in. “Maybe she just found herself in the crosshairs of a sexual predator.”
“Then why take her someplace else?” I posed. “Why not just rape and kill her in the abandoned building that he was already occupying? It’s a huge risk to transport Samara somewhere else, considering that she’d not go willingly. If anything could be said about your sister, it’s that she doesn’t back down easily.”
“If he had a gun on her, she might go more quietly than you think,” Masha suggested. “Not backing down and not fearing for your life are two very different things.”
“We’re wasting time,” Maksim snapped, and that was cause for concern. Maksim was always calm, so it was easy to see that this thing with Nikel Ovchinnikov was doing a number on him, and that wasn’t good. A volatile Maksim Barychev was a dangerous one.
Taking in another deep breath, I said, “Masha, I need you to think. Is there anything that you can remember about anything that she might have said since coming home?”
Her tears started again. “No,” she whispered brokenly. “Like I said, she’s mad at me.”
“Well, what the fuck did you expect, kukla?” Maksim bit out. “Instead of trying to find a way to help your sister, you started fucking the enemy. Why wouldn’t she be mad?”
Like the spoiled girl that she was, Masha let out a dramatic cry as she turned to throw herself in Gosha’s arms. To his credit, Gosha looked like he wanted to say something to Maksim, but he knew better. Even without the rules of the bratva hierarchy, Maksim was as deadly as they came, and Gosha knew that he was no match for the sovietnik.
“Oh, for fuck’s sakes,” Maksim muttered, causing me to shoot a look his way. He wasn’t helping by turning Masha into a hysterical mess.
“Okay, that’s enough,” I said through clenched teeth, trying to remain focused.
Fed up, Maksim said, “Since this one is no help, that only leaves us one option, Pakhan.”
I already knew where he was going with this, so I said, “Let us talk on the way.”
Knowing better to speak about our association with the Sartoris or O’Briens in front of anyone that wasn’t blood, Maksim wasted no time following me out of the condo, Masha Andreev’s cries an annoyance that I could do without. I had no use or patience for hysteria; it never brought value to any situation.
Once we were in the hallway, Maksim said, “We need to call Sartori and borrow Morocco Carrisi’s skills again.”
“I agree,” I replied, though it pained me to say the words. “With Masha knowing nothing, the only way that we’re going to be able to find her is to have someone hack into the street cameras to track where she could have been taken.”
“We can also have him pull up any other empty buildings if the cameras don’t produce anything,” Maksim went on. “At this point, anything is more than the nothing that we have now.”
As soon as we reached the street, I pulled out my phone to call Nero. Though it burned to have to do it, I knew that I was responsible for what was happening to Samara right now. Had I not sent her home without any real protection, then she’d be safe, even if she was hating me at the same time.
When Nero finally answered the phone, he asked, “Avgust, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I need Morocco’s services again,” I admitted, getting to the point.
“Do you, now?” he mused.
“Samara Andreev has been kidnapped, and only the city’s surveillance cameras will be able to give me an idea of where she was taken,” I explained. “I have no one in my organization with Morocco Carrisi’s skills.”
“Is this the same Samara Andreev from your childhood?” he asked evenly, and it didn’t surprise me that Nero knew about my history with Samara. You could not climb the ranks the way that we’d had without knowing practically everything about your enemies.
“Yes,” I answered. “It is the same one.”
“Christ, what is it with the women in our lives?” he muttered, and though Samara was quickly becoming an issue, Nero’s wife had ended an entire bloodline, so it wasn’t apples to apples.
“Then you understand the urgency?” I prompted.
I heard a deep sigh on the other end of the line before he said, “Send me the address of where she was last seen, and then I’ll have Morocco work his magic.”
“And what is it that you’ll be requesting in return?”
Another deep sigh came over the phone. “Nothing,” he answered, surprising me. “However, if you ever come across my wife in the future, you may want to thank her for this little favor. If it wasn’t for the fact that I know exactly what you’re feeling, I might not be so generous with my resources.”
