“Someone grabbed her from behind…A thiarna!” she exclaims. “He took her, Roarke.” Fiona’s voice turns shaky and distressed. “He dragged her through a marked door on the left. It’s the basement… Roarke, you have to hurry!”
“Who took her, Fiona?”
“Yuri Balshov!”
Goddamnit!
I’m out of the room before she can say another word, her voice echoing in the call as I rush down the hall. I consider taking the stairs, but I’m on the tenth floor, and I’m afraid that the fucker will hurt her before I can get to her.
“What’s happening, Fiona? Can you see into the room where he’s taken her?”
“There are no cameras past the hallway.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Hurry, Roarke. You have to get to her fast. I’m messaging Da and Conor in case you need backup, but I don’t think you have time to wait.”
Damnit!
I glare at the indicator, willing for the numbers to move faster. I grab my gun and check for bullets. I can already picture where I’m going to plant them. I’m going to kill him. Yuri Balshov is dead for taking what belongs to me.
I’m practically vibrating with rage when the elevator door finally opens, and I rush for the door Fiona indicated. I have my gun aimed ready to shoot when I open the door, groaning when I realize it’s not a closet but a bloody labyrinth of doors that lead to God knows where.
I hang up on Fiona and slide my phone into my back pocket before slowly stepping in, straining my ears as I used to do back when I was in the military. It’s tempting to use my flashlight to navigate, but I don’t want to alert Yuri of my presence. Instead, I use my senses to move, careful not to bump into the stacks of boxes stacked along the wall. I have helped carry out dozens of rescue missions, so this should be no different.
Except…it is.
This is nothing like any rescue mission I’ve carried out before. The person waiting to be rescued is a woman I love. The one I intend to spend the rest of my life with and someone is threatening to steal that from me.
I’ll fucking kill him.
“Tonight, I will teach you a fucking lesson for thinking you could cross me!”
My eyes target the second door to the right. The door is open slightly, so I move steadily toward it and peek in, my heart dropping to my feet when I see Elena tied to a chair with a gun pointed at her head.
“Get the fuck away from her!” I roar, aiming my gun at the man’s head when he whips around to face me, surprise written on his face. He turns his gun from Elena to point it at me. Good. “I’m faster, and I have never missed a shot in my life.”
I sense a presence behind me and curse at myself for being a fool. Fuck, I should have anticipated Yuri bringing company even though Fiona didn’t see it.
“I’m afraid he means it,Batya. Drop the gun!” a voice calls from behind me as a gun appears to my right, but the barrel is not aimed at me but at the other man in the room. I don’t dare take my eyes off Yuri to glance at the man standing next to me.
“Alexei!” Yuri curses, and I immediately recognize the name. Yuri’s oldest son. Well, the second oldest, seeing that the first died young. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I followed you,” the man says with a sigh. “I had a feeling that you were up to no good, so I followed you to the hotel. Don’t you realize what you’re doing could put our family at risk? Messing with the O’Sheas and the Rossis. Are you trying to start a war?”
Yuri’s eyes darken. “Stay out of this, Alexei. I am yourpakhan. How dare you challenge me!”
“What?” the younger Balshov challenges. “Are you going to kill me like you killed Ivan when he was sixteen? Or murder me in cold blood like you did my mother?” Silence, tense and deep, follows his words.
“Shut up!” Yuri roars, waving his gun erratically. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Shut the fuck up and leave now!”
Fuck this!
This man is clearly insane, and the gun he’s waving around could end up taking us all out. I’ll be damned if I risk Elena’s life while the two Balshovs air their grievances. Without missing a beat, I aim my gun at the older Balshov’s shoulder, enough to injure but not be fatal. I fire.
Yuri screams before dropping to the floor, but I don’t give him time to recover as I step forward and kick his gun away. I turn to the son and study him, weighing the pros and cons of trusting a Balshov. But I decide I don’t have time for this. I need to get Elena out of here.
I make quick work of untying her hands before crouching to untie her legs. I quickly check for other injuries but only see a cut on her cheek. Rage courses through my body at the thought of that man harming my wife, and I reach up to wipe the blood away. That’s when Elena screams.
