“Petyr?”
“Answer me,” I snarl. “Did you take her?”
“What? No.” Kira frowns. “She’s upstairs. Can’t you hear?”
Yes, I can.Loud and fucking clear.
Which is how I know Sima didn’t run from me.
I won’t pretend I know what she’s thinking all the time. That I can tell, every second of every day, where her mind is at.
But I do know one thing: She would haveneverrun without her daughter.
I force myself to go back to a few nights ago and remember what she said to me then.
“Would you do it again?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Because you trust me?”
“Because I know you better.”
That’s right. She knows me better now. Better than to think I’d lock her up again, or do anything in the world to harm her.
And I know her better, too. Enough to know that she didn’t fucking do this.
She wouldn’t run away. I feel it in my gut. This isn’t her.
She meant what she said to me that night. I know she did. I believed her, and I believe her now.
The more I think, the less it makes sense. The idea of her just walking out doesn’t fit. Something happened to her. And whoever’s responsible doesn’t know what they’ve just done.
I push off the doorframe and grab my phone. My fingers are steady now, my thoughts cold and clear.
“I’m going to look for her.”
Kira blinks, surprised. “Petyr, there’s no point. You know how good she is. If she decided to leave?—”
“She didn’t,” I snap. “She’d never do that. Not without Lilia.”
Or without me,I think but don’t say. Our business isn’t Kira’s to know.
I grab my coat and head out the door. My wife needs me to find her, and I will.
And God help anyone who’s laid a hand on her in the meantime.
55
SIMA
The trunk ride doesn’t last long. I’d say thank God, but the moment the car stops, I realize I probably shouldn’t be thanking him just yet.
We screech to a stop—a trademark of my father’s men. The years may pass, but good old Bogdan and company just do not know how to ease down on the brake pedal.
The latch clicks. I’m ready to claw my way back to freedom, but that plan’s thwarted when bright fluorescent lights explode above me.
My eyes sting as they adjust. A second later, rough hands grab my arms and haul me out like I’m a duffel bag.
