I obey automatically, the vodka burning down my throat. It doesn't help. Nothing helps.
Hours pass. I sit in the leather chair by the window while Dimitri works, making calls, receiving reports, coordinating the response to Viktor's death. The other Bratva families are in chaos. Some are celebrating, seeing Viktor's death as an opportunity. Others are calling for blood, claiming Dimitri orchestrated everything. A few are staying neutral, waiting to see which way the wind blows.
I should be listening. Should be paying attention to the politics that will shape our future. But I can't focus on anything except the clock on the wall, watching the minutes tick by. Waiting for news about Katya.
The sun is starting to rise when Alexei finally appears in the doorway. His shoulder is properly bandaged now, his face less pale. But the expression he wears makes my stomach clench.
"We searched the entire compound," he says quietly. "Every room, every building, every inch of the property."
"And?" Dimitri's voice is sharp.
"There's no body, Pakhan." Alexei's eyes meet mine. "We found evidence of violence in one of the bedrooms. Blood, signs of a struggle. But no body. Katya isn't there."
The words don't make sense. I heard my father. Heard him tell me he killed her. Heard the satisfaction in his voice as he described how she cried for me.
Dimitri dismisses Alexei and kneels in front of my chair, taking both my hands in his. The eight-pointed star tattoo on his chest is visible through his partially unbuttoned shirt, a reminder of who and what he is. A man who's survived everything this world has thrown at him.
"We'll find her," he says, and it's not a promise. It's a vow. "Whatever it takes, however long it takes, we'll find your sister."
I want to believe him. But I've learned the hard way that hope is dangerous in this world.
His thumbs brush across my knuckles. "You need to rest. You've been through hell, and your body needs sleep."
"I can't sleep. Not until I know…"
"Alina, let me handle this. Let my men do their jobs. You need to take care of yourself."
He's right, and I hate that he's right. My body is screaming for rest, my mind foggy with exhaustion and shock.
A knock at the door interrupts my spiral. One of Dimitri's tech specialists enters, carrying a tablet. His face is carefully neutral, but I see the tension in his shoulders.
"Pakhan. We pulled traffic camera footage from the area around the Popov compound. You need to see this."
Dimitri takes the tablet, and I move to stand beside him, looking over his shoulder at the screen. The footage is grainy, black and white, timestamped from early this morning. It shows a residential street I recognize as being near my father's house.
A black sedan pulls up to the curb. Three men get out, and even through the poor quality footage, I can see the tattoos on their necks. Bratva markings. But not Popov colors.
Kozlov colors.
My breath catches as a fourth figure is dragged from a house. Small, struggling, dark hair whipping around as she fights. Even without seeing her face clearly, I know.
Katya.
They force her into the car, one man's hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her screams. The sedan pulls away, disappearing down the street.
"The Kozlovs have her." Dimitri's voice is cold, controlled, but I hear the rage underneath. "Viktor must have sold her to them. Insurance, in case his meeting with you went wrong."
I stare at the screen, at the frozen image of my sister being taken. She's alive. Katya is alive. The relief is so intense it makes my knees weak, but it's immediately followed by terror.
The Kozlov family. The same people who orchestrated the church attack. The same people who wanted me dead. Now they have my sixteen-year-old sister.
"We have to get her back." I turn to Dimitri, grabbing his shirt. "Right now. We have to…"
"We will." His hands cover mine, steadying me. "But we need to be smart about this. The Kozlovs will be expecting us to come for her. They'll use her as bait, try to draw us into a trap."
"I don't care." The words come out fierce, final. "She's my sister. She's all I have left. I don't care what it takes, what it costs. We're getting her back."
Dimitri studies my face, and I see the moment he makes his decision. The moment he chooses me, chooses us, over strategy and caution.
