Page 32 of The Pakhan's Secret Baby

She thinks I'm gone, but I'll never be gone. And if I make my move quickly, no one will ever be the wiser.

I round the corner and follow her at a careful distance, staying on the opposite side of the street, using parked cars and shadows for cover.

The rain masks every footstep and she never looks back.

She clutches her coat around her body like armor, head down, rushing toward whatever pathetic life she thinks will protect her from me.

My shoes splash through puddles, but the sound disappears under the roar of the storm as she turns toward a squat brick apartment building with a single flickering bulb over the entrance.

It's one block from where I was just parked, and she was foolish enough to lead me right here. I know it's the friend's house, probably the one who had the kid that day.

"Emory, you're a foolish girl," I grumble under my breath as I cross the street and melt into the darkness beneath a closed laundromat awning, lighting a cigarette. Smoke curls up and vanishes in the rain as I wait.

Ten minutes pass. Fifteen.

Then the door opens again.

Emory emerges carrying the boy, bundled in a bright blue coat with the hood pulled up.

He clings sleepily to her neck, arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

My jaw clenches hard at the sight, though this time there's a softness to my edge, rubbed down by sexual afterglow.

My dick still pulses with her warmth, but I have to do this.

I drop the cigarette and crush it under my heel as I start moving forward, rain streaming down my face. I could reach them before she even realizes?—

But two men in dark jackets step out from a black SUV parked halfway down the block and I recognize the taller one instantly—thick neck covered in tattoos, shaved head.

He's marked by Gusev, which means they're following her too. A third man is already behind the wheel, engine purring to life.

My blood turns to ice, then instantly to lava as the tattooed one grabs Emory’s arm before she can react.

She stumbles, clutching the boy tighter, but she's no match for them. I want to run out there and grab her myself, but she'd see this as a rescue and they'd see me as an enemy. I'm already their enemy.

I can't let them know I’m following her too.

“What are you doing?” Her voice cuts through the rain with sudden panic. “Get off me!”

The boy starts to cry as the second man moves in fast, wrenching Lex from her arms while the tattooed one clamps a hand over Emory’s mouth.

She fights like a wildcat, kicking and twisting, but they're bigger, stronger, and clearly prepared.

The driver jumps out, opening the back door of the SUV and they shove her inside first, then the screaming child.

This is a kidnapping. Gusev men are taking what is mine.

Rage explodes through every nerve in my body, but I force myself to stay hidden.

Exposing my hand to these low-level players will only tip off Gusev that I'm aware of what he's doing.

I can't play knight in shining armor with her, and I can't even give them a hint that the child is mine.

I'm forced to watch as they squeal their tires, pulling out, then I break into a full sprint to make it back to my car.

“Move!” I shout as I yank the door open and throw myself inside. “They took her! Gusev bastards just snatched Emory and the boy! Follow that black SUV—now!”

My driver doesn’t hesitate. The car surges forward, tires screaming. “Which way?”