Page 70 of The Pakhan’s Stolen Bride

Two pairs of hands grab my arms, their grip iron, rough, and completely professional. They hoist me off the floor, my feet dragging against the carpet as they carry me toward the rear service corridor. I try to fight, to kick, to bite, but a cold, wet cloth is pressed hard over my nose and mouth.

The scent of chloroform floods my lungs.

The world begins to spin, the white fog in my eyes turning into a heavy, suffocating blackness that rushes up to swallow me whole.

The last thing I see before the dark takes me is the beige suit and the scarred, twisted smile.

"I told you I’d find you, Viallentinka," Mikhail whispers, his voice the final sound before the silence takes over.

28

ILYA

Viallentinka is going to be the death of me.

I’m still breathing hard from the drive back from the southern channel. The rain has stopped, but the damp, grey mist is still clinging to the windows of the corridor.

My jaw is tight, my shoulder throbbing under the fresh bandage, but there’s a quiet, dangerous anticipation humming in my blood. I’m going to open that door. I’m going to walk into our bedroom, look at her stubborn, angry face, and tell her that her father’s security is paid for the next six months.

I want to see the sharp, clever spark in her eyes when she realizes I actually listened to her about the docks.

I reach the heavy oak doors of the master suite. My hand goes into my pocket, my fingers locking around the key, but my eyes drop to the smart-home control panel mounted on the wall.

The digital ring is glowing a steady, bright green.

The physical iron bolt inside the door frame is retracted.

My heart stops, a cold, heavy hand suddenly clamping down around my throat. I don't use the key. I push the door with my palm, and the heavy oak swings open slowly, the hinges silent in the quiet room.

The bed is empty. The white duvet is thrown back, the silk sheets cold and vacant under the pale morning light. The silver proposal ring is still sitting on the glass jewelry tray near her perfume bottles, catching the grey light from the window, but the grey sweater she was wearing last night is gone.

"Via?"

I walk to the bathroom, throwing the door open. Empty. The cold washcloth she used yesterday is still sitting on the edge of the sink, dry and stiff. I turn back to the bedroom, my eyes scanning the carpet, the vanity, the closet. Nothing.

I run down the corridor, my heavy boots thudding against the hardwood like a drumbeat. I reach the west wing, my chest contracting as I stop in front of Ekaterina’s door. Pyotr is standing there, his rifle held low, his face turning pale the second he sees me.

I grab him by the throat, my fingers digging into the collar of his tactical vest as I slam him flat against the brick wall. "Where is my sister?"

Pyotr’s eyes widen in terror, his hands clawing at my forearm as he tries to find air. "Pakhan... she’s... she’s inside. You sent Mrs. Kovalevskiia to⁠—"

"I didn't send anyone," I growl, my voice a low, terrifying rasp that doesn't sound human.

I throw him aside, his body hitting the floorboards with a heavy clatter, and kick Ekaterina’s door open.

Her four-poster bed is empty. Her drawing pad is lying on the carpet, the pages fluttering in the draft from the half-open window. Her thick black coat is gone from the wardrobe, her boots missing from the floor.

She ran. She bypassed the smart-home fire-containment lock, she tricked my guard, she took my sister, and she walked out of my house.

"Dmitri!" I roar, the sound bouncing off the stone arches of the hallway. "Dmitri!"

Dmitri runs up the stairs, his boots thudding loudly, his hand already on his holster as he sees me standing in the doorway of Ekaterina’s room. "Ilya? What is it?"

"They're gone," I say, my voice dropping into a flat, deadly whisper that makes him freeze. "Both of them. Find the guards who were on the greenhouse gate. Bring them to the courtyard."

"Ilya, the perimeter sensors didn't⁠—"

"Now, Dmitri!" I scream, the veins in my neck bulging, my fist slamming into the plaster wall next to the door, leaving a deep, shattered crater in the wood. "Bring them to the courtyard!"