I force down the rising vomit in my throat, along with my doubt. “Let me call him,” I say, grasping at the one thin thread of hope left.
“I already checked your phone. He hasn’t replied to you in nine days.”
Nine days. My brother wouldn’t disappear from me for nine days. Not unless something was wrong.
“I can at least leave him a message,” I say. “Tell him I’m with you. Tell him to fix this.”
Dominik shakes his head once. “ThePakhanwill decide what happens next.”
“ThePakhan?” I repeat, but he doesn’t bother clarifying who that is. I assume it’s his boss.
“Gavriil will want to send photos to motivate Archer,” Dominik says.
“Photos of me?”
His gaze drops to my torn shirt, then back to my eyes. “Seeing his sweet, innocent sister restrained should encourage him to return what he stole.”
A pulse of cold terror slides through me when he holds up his phone to snap pictures of me.
I remind myself it could be worse. I’ve seen worse. My mom’s boyfriend used to knock her across the room for breathing wrong. Even after she died, it took years before I understood not every man reacts with violence.
Dominik and his men haven’t hurt me intentionally.
Yet.
They chased me down, yes, and kidnapped me off the street, but only to convince Archer to return their money.
I’m terrified of what happens next, but fury boils underneath it. At Archer. At myself for even feeling it. He’s my brother, but he’s dragged me into something I might not survive.
A new fear slams into me.
What will these men do to Archer?
I’ve been so focused on staying alive that I barely let myself consider what they’ll do when they find him.
“When Archer returns the money, you’ll let us both go, right?” The question leaves me before I can stop it, bargaining, the only lifeline I have left.
Dominik puts his phone away, then clasps his hands between his legs. His gaze drifts away, calculating, for far too long. “If your brother comes to his senses, he might get a second chance from thePakhan.”
My stomach drops.
“Might?” I echo. “You can’t guarantee?—”
“I’m not guaranteeing anything,” he cuts in. “Your brother dug his own grave. ThePakhanwill decide what his betrayal will cost him.”
The implications hit me harder than the concrete floor. If Archer doesn’t come back soon, if he doesn’t fix this, the Bratva won’t wait forever.
My brother and I survived things most siblings don’t talk about. He kept me fed, kept a roof over our heads, kept us together after our mom died. He dropped out of school so that I could finish. I owe him everything, which is why the thought of him abandoning me now feels like the ultimate betrayal.
“There must be something…”
“Gavriil does not forgive easily,” Dominik mutters.
In other words, we’re fucking screwed. Archer’s fate may have already been decided by this ruthlessPakhan. And if Archer suspects as much, then he may never return with their money.
The men behind Dominik begin speaking tersely to each other in Russian, and I have a feeling that they’re talking about me even though none of them look at me. While they converse, I think back to all Archer and I’ve been through together.
I’ve always believed he would come through for me. But for the first time, doubt cracks through that belief.
