Page 141 of Bratva and Betrayal: Kirill

I think about all the other Russians Kirill and Drago have been killing for not swearing allegiance to him. Of course someone would retaliate.

A chill slides down my spine and my heart stutters. This wasn’t random. This was organized and planned. And I made it easy for them by taking us out of our routine.

My stomach drops, a heavy, sickening weight settling low in my body. This is my fault.

Mind racing, I reach into my brain for connections, names I’ve heard Kirill say, allies to use as threats. I need something, but my mind is fracturing. I’m failing.

I tighten my arms around Violet, pressing my cheek to the top of her head. Breathing in the faint scent of sugar and shampoo. This is real, and I need to stay focused.

“Mommy…” She looks up at me, tear-streaked cheeks and jaw trembling. “I’m scared.”

“I’ve got you,” I tell her, brushing her hair back. “Nothing will happen to you.”

Her lower lip wobbles, but she nods, trusting me. Even though she thinks I left her for five years.

“I’m not going anywhere, okay?” I say, my hands shaking, praying I can mentally survive this. “We’re together. That’s what matters.”

I don’t know where they’re taking us.

I don’t know what they want.

Whatever this is, whoever they are, they tried to take my daughter. No way was I letting go.

Chapter 46

Kirill

Incident. That could mean anything. But I doubt it means something good.

I tighten my hand into a fist. “What kind of incident?”

“Your wife and daughter,” Drago says carefully, as if he’s choosing which words won’t fucking detonate my brain. “They’re missing.”

Everything goes cold. “Missing how? Explain.”

I hate that my brain immediately thinks Sandrine ran off with Violet. But my enforcer wouldn’t be looking at me like he’s ready to fucking kill someone.

A flight attendant hovers nearby before setting two tumblers of vodka on the table between our chairs.

“The report I have says they left the school as scheduled,” he begins, fingers moving across his phone. “There was a deviation. An unauthorized one. To an ice cream parlor. The guards were present and didn’t report the diversion.”

Ice cream. It’s still bitterly cold out. My jaw tightens, but I don’t interrupt.

“From there, they went to a gas station,” he continues cool and direct. “The driver made an unscheduled stop. Records show the SUV wasn’t even low on fuel. That’s where the kidnapping happened. They were out of the car, coming back from the bathroom inside the convenience center. An SUV pulled up right in front of the doors.”

I slam my fist on the table. “And our fucking men let someone take them? My wife? My daughter?”

“Timing was tight. Coordinated,” Drago reports carefully. “There was gunfire exchanged.”

Someone wanted my wife and daughter enough that there were gunshots? On a public street? In broad fucking daylight?

“Guards?” I ask, my voice even.

“Dead,” he says. “All three. The driver is alive. My second is bringing him in for questioning. He was found trying to board a train to New York.”

Traitor. But for who?

“Is there footage?” I say, my throat vibrating.