Watched.
How could they do nothing?
Halfway across the street, I saw movement above. Broad shoulders framed the window.
“Lachlan!” My voice cracked his name.
The van’s back door burst open. The man tugged me into the seatless rear of it. A machine gun glinted to my side.
Lachlan’s voice ripped through the air—raw, furious, and every shade of protective I’d ever known in him. The words, his promise to save me, burned into me.
Bullets sprayed into the street, shattering the morning air. I dove for the gunner, swinging hard, but my captor yanked me into his steel grip.
My life narrowed to one awful truth: My life ended the second they found me. I’d made love to Lachlan countless times last night. Now, I’d marry Edik Mikhailov. And after experiencing true love … death sounded more promising.
52
VASSILI
Dundee
Weak.So weak.
Lachlan clawed at Simeon’s forearm. “Wait. Wa—” he begged.
I turned away as Simeon lifted the gun, glaring at the dilapidated flats where my men should’ve escorted my daughter from.
My phone rang. Lev Mikhailov.
“Hold on,” I growled, not wanting my colleague to hear gunfire in the background. “Da?”
“Vassili,” Lev said, “we must meet at once, old friend. It’s a critical matter.”
My eyes rolled. “Where?” Alright, I’d pop Lachlan and head for Russ?—
“I’m here, in Aberdeen. Bieldside. Your daughter is safe.” The call disconnected.Proklyatiya! Every small act was a power move. Grounding my molars together, I read the text message that popped up seconds later. An address. I turned around.Simeon glared at me as if the genius had the insight to question words I hadn’t spoken yet.
“Get up,” I ordered.
“I should have pulled the trigger while that call distracted you,” Simeon growled, snatching Lachlan up by the bicep. “Who was that?”
“The Mikhailovs. They have Natasha.”
I thrust Lachlan toward the enforcer. The Scot didn’t bend. We had bruised him. Still, no stumbling. No cowering. He stood, hands crumpled in his hair, eyes hollow as if his fate baffled him. Lachlan asked, “Where is she?”
“Not withLorenzo,” I chuckled. Still, the name rolled in my mind again, heavy as iron. Still nothing.
The enforcer slapped duct tape over Lachlan’s mouth.
Simeon stepped close, voice dropping into a growl. “Are they aware of Natasha’s association with these MacKenzies?”
“Da.” I turned toward my man. “Take us to this address. Keep him company. Unless we need him.”
“We do.” Simeon shoved into my face, the heat of his breath sharp with vodka. Behind him, the lieutenant cinched a zip tie around Lachlan’s wrists. The Scot hissed.
“We’ll feed Lachlan to the Mikhailovs.” Simeon wiped his hands. Casual, cold, as if my brother’s fingers bore the blood of those who’d kept him from his childhood love, Anastasiya. “We restore our relationship with ourbrat’ya, Vassili.”
“Nyet.” I snapped my gaze to his. My brother’s eyes narrowed, but I did not flinch. “I always had a strategy. Remove our daughters from these marriages. They own most of the KGB. They just need a little more. We give them that hand.”
