Page 77 of Marked By the Mob

“We need to find her,” I say, already moving toward the door.

Rurik’s hand catches my arm, stopping me. “We don’t know where she went.”

“Then we figure it out. We call every contact we have, check every location Krystal has been seen, and we don’t stop until we find her.”

Before Rurik can respond, the sound of the front door opening echoes through the estate. Footsteps click against marble floors, steady and unhurried.

Emma.

Relief floods through me so fast it makes my knees weak. Then the relief transforms into fury.

I’m down the stairs before I fully register moving, Eduard and Rurik right behind me. Emma appears in the main hallway, her jacket slung over one arm, her expression calm, like she just came back from a casual stroll instead of disappearing for hours without a word.

“Where the fuck have you been?” The words come out sharper than I intend, but I don’t care.

Emma’s green eyes narrow. “I went to meet Krystal.”

“Without telling us?” Eduard’s voice is controlled, but I can hear the anger underneath. “Without taking guards? Without even leaving a message about where you were going?”

“I left a note,” Emma says, her tone defensive.

“No, you didn’t,” Rurik says flatly. “We checked everywhere.”

Emma’s expression shifts, confusion flickering across her face. “I wrote it and left it on the desk in the bedroom. Right next to the laptop.”

I think about the desk, the laptop sitting open, the scattered papers. There was no note. Either Emma is lying or someone removed it before we got back.

“There was no note,” I say, my voice tight. “We tore this place apart looking for you. We thought you’d been taken.”

Emma’s jaw tightens. “I can take care of myself.”

The words ignite something dark in my chest. “Can you? Because last time you tried to take care of yourself, you ended up chained on an auction stage.”

Her face flushes with anger and maybe embarrassment. “That was different.”

“How?” I step closer, crowding into her space. “You walked into a trap then, and you walked into a potential trap today. The only difference is we weren’t there to pull you out this time.”

“I’m FBI,” Emma snaps. “I’ve been doing this job for years. I don’t need three overprotective criminals hovering over me every second.”

“You’re not FBI anymore,” Rurik says quietly, his pale eyes cold. “You’re officially dead. Which means you don’t have backup, resources, or authority. All you have is us.”

Emma’s hands curl into fists at her sides. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“No, you didn’t,” Eduard says, his voice gentler but no less firm. “But this is where you are. And walking out of this estate alone,without telling us where you’re going, puts you at risk. It puts all of us at risk.”

“I was meeting my best friend,” Emma says through clenched teeth. “Not staging a prison break.”

“Your best friend works for Aleksander Volkov,” I remind her.

Emma’s expression shifts, something defensive flickering in her eyes. “Krystal wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Maybe not willingly,” Rurik says. “But Volkov is very good at making people do what he wants.”

The silence that follows is heavy, charged with everything we’re not saying. Emma knows we’re right. I can see it in the way her shoulders tense and how she won’t quite meet our eyes. But she’s too stubborn to admit it.

“I’m going to my room,” she says finally, her voice tight.

“Our room,” I correct. “You don’t get your own space anymore, remember?”