She swallowed hard, her eyes flicking to me before settling back on him. “Igor.”
The name hit like a gunshot.
“He stopped me on the stairs,” she continued, her voice shaking. “He said that Mr. Zoloth would be staying with us, so he instructed me to make up the room. When I stepped into the room, someone grabbed me from behind. I couldn’t breathe, so that I couldn’t scream. Then everything went dark.”
Rage surged hot and sharp, threatening the discipline I’d spent years mastering. Igor had planned this. Carefully. Efficiently.
“I am so sorry,” Alexandr said, placing a steadying hand on Nadia’s shoulder.
I didn’t look away from the bruises on her neck. I couldn’t.
“He took Anya,” I said flatly.
I turned slowly to Alexandr, every muscle in my body coiled tight, lethal intent burning behind my eyes.
“Give me Igor’s address,” I said.
The city blurred past as Dominic drove, the engine low and aggressive beneath us. My phone was already in my hand, thumb pressing Alexi’s number as my thoughts ran several moves ahead. Igor’s apartment sat in an older concrete block near the docks—cheap rent, good sightlines, too many exits—a place chosen by someone who planned for contingencies.
Alexi answered on the second ring. “Tell me you found her.”
“Not yet,” I said. “But we found Nadia. Igor attacked her. Put her in a chokehold.”
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. “Then it’s him.”
“You’re certain?” I asked.
“Yes,” Alexi said immediately. “Vladimir—there’s something I never told you. Before I met with Oleg, Pavel, and Artem… Igor brought me tea. Said it was from my father’s kitchen. I remember thinking it tasted strange.”
Cold settled in my veins.
“You think he drugged you.”
“I know he did,” Alexi said. “Everything after that was fractured. I was sluggish. Slow. It would explain how they took me so easily.”
Dominic shot me a glance, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel.
“There’s more,” Alexi continued. “Igor has military connections. Cousins. Friends. A few of them are still in active duty. He used to brag—said knowing soldiers was more valuable than knowing politicians.”
That fits too well. Logistics. Muscle. Access.
“He may not be acting alone,” Alexi said quietly.
“He is tonight,” I replied. “And that’s enough.”
“I’m close,” Alexi said. “I’ll meet you there.”
We arrived minutes later, the building looming like a concrete coffin against the darkening sky. Alexi’s car pulled in just behind us. He stepped out, his expression carved from controlled fury.
No more words were needed.
The stairwell smelled of damp concrete and old smoke. Our footsteps echoed as we climbed, each level tightening the coilin my chest. Third floor. End unit. Igor’s door stood closed, unremarkable, as if nothing monstrous waited behind it.
I raised my hand to signal silence.
That was when we heard it.
A scream—sharp, terrified, unmistakably Anya’s.
