“Understood.” His voice is thick, but he’s not arguing with me. “I’ll wait for you both to get home.”
Both.Like he doesn’t doubt for a second I’ll be able to bring her back.
Good. He shouldn’t. This is my wife we’re talking about. If I have to burn Nikolai’s empire down to get to her, then that’s what I’ll fucking do.
I end the call and grab my coat off the chair. My mind’s already ahead of me: routes, entry points. An exit strategy.
She’s there. I can feel it in my bones. And I’m going to bring her home.
I’m about to head out when I hear a knock on my door.
“Cuz.” It’s Mikhael. “Someone here to see you.”
“I’m busy.”
“He says it’s about Sima.”
I throw the door open…
And Maksim Danilo walks in.
58
PETYR
For a second, the world goes still.
My eyes go to Mikhael first. He’s standing behind our guest like he’s just swallowed a shit soufflé. His fists are white at his sides, but he isn’t punching through Maksim Danilo like he so clearly wants to.
Unfortunately for him, I don’t have the same restraint.
The space between us disappears in a blink. I grab Maksim by the throat and slam him hard against the wall.
“You’ve got three seconds,” I growl, my voice low with fury. “Tell me where she is before I end you right here.”
He tries to speak. Chokes out half a word. But I’m not ready to let him breathe again, so I shove him harder.
His head hits the wall with a dull thud. I can feel my pulse hammering through my grip.
I fucking loathe this bastard. Not just for his name, or his family, but because he’s standing here breathing while Sima isn’t safe.
And I sure as fuck haven’t forgotten why.
Maksim. The brother who ratted her out to Anatoli. She’s spoken lovingly of him since, but I’m not fooled.
This is a Danilo. Pure-blooded, bred for it. Nothing like Sima.
Mikhael moves behind me, tense but quiet. He knows better than to interfere.
“You fucking—” Maksim rasps.
“Wrong answer.” I push harder. Lean in close enough to see the fear in his eyes. “You’re going to tell me, or I’ll make sure you never get another word out again.”
He gasps for air. His hands claw at my wrist. “Jesus Christ, man,” he croaks. “Why else do you think I’m here?”
I let him drop.
He sucks in a mouthful of oxygen, then trains his eyes back on me.
