Marian exhales through her nose again, rougher this time, frustration breaking through the restraint she’s been holding onto.
“You’re standing in my kitchen talking about this like it’s business.”
“I’m explaining it clearly.”
Her hand slides off the back of the chair, and she steps closer, anger rising through the control she’s been forcing onto herself.
“Clear would be telling me exactly what happened to my daughter.”
I hold her gaze. “Arkady believes Rowan has value.”
Her eyes narrow. “For what purpose?”
“For leverage.”
“Leverage?” she repeats. “Against you?”
“Yes.”
Marian absorbs the implication, her expression hardening as the meaning sinks in. “So, she’s been taken because of you.”
“Yes.”
Her eyes flash briefly. “And you’re talking about it like that’s acceptable?”
“I’m focused on correcting it.”
Her eyes shine with raw anger now. “Fix it,” she snaps. “I don’t care what it costs you, or who you have to burn to the ground to do it. You bring my daughter home.”
I don’t look away. “I intend to.”
She studies my face then, searching it carefully, as if she’s trying to decide whether the certainty behind those words is real or something rehearsed. My jaw hardens as I draw a slow breath.
She doesn’t thank me. She doesn’t pretend to trust promises. That restraint earns more respect than anger would.
A few minutes later, I step back outside into the cold night air. Mikel walks beside me toward the car, his hands sliding into his coat pockets against the chill.
“You handled that conversation better than most men would,” he remarks.
“I didn’t lie,” I state.
“That simplifies things.”
I slide into the passenger seat while Mikel starts the engine again. As the car pulls away from the curb, I glance once through the window toward the house. Marian is still standing in the kitchen light. The image stays with me longer than it should.
The drive back to the estate passes quietly. Streetlights move across the windshield in regular intervals while my thoughts return to the same pattern again and again.
Arkady’s accounts are restricted. Ivan is coordinating external crews. Rowan taken.
When the estate gates come into view ahead, security opens them immediately. The car rolls across the stone driveway toward the house, the tall windows glowing warmly against the dark sky. Everything looks calm, but calm rarely lasts.
Mikel slows the car near the entrance and glances toward me.
Ethan is waiting near the base of the steps when I step out of the car, the sling across his chest stark against his dark shirt. His posture is rigid with anger that has been building for hours. The moment he sees me approach, whatever restraint he brought with him breaks.
“You told her she’d be safe!” he shouts.
The accusation cuts across the driveway, drawing the attention of several of my men stationed near the entrance. I stop a few feet away from him and meet his eyes.
