Page 167 of Marrying the Savage

Arman smiles without humor. “Long enough for you to decide whether you are running from him or just making him chase you.”

The words hit too close.

“I’m not playing games,” I say.

“No,” he says. “You are scared. That is different.”

I swallow. The truth of that sits between us, heavy and unpleasant.

Downstairs, someone opens a door and low voices drift up, then disappear again.

I take one sip of water. My hand is steadier now.

“Sleep tonight, we’ll talk tomorrow. You can stay here as long as you need, but remember, you husband owns the city. Sooner or later, he’ll be here.”

24

DAMIR

By the third day, no one asks if I have eaten.

Marina leaves food because she knows better than to ask. Coffee beside the files. Broth near the phone. Bread on a tray by the edge of the desk. Most of it goes untouched until Mikhail stands across from me and says, “You can’t find her if you’re dead on your feet.”

I eat because he is right.

The city has been pulled apart piece by piece since Sofia disappeared. Cameras from shops, traffic lights, hotels, parking garages, private houses, and restaurants have been collected. Men who owe me money call before I call them, offering names, plates, rumors, anything they think may keep me away from their doors. Dmitri’s men have been taken from clinics and apartments. Sergei’s house is watched from every side.

Still no Sofia.

The gray car appears on three cameras and vanishes before the fourth. The plates are false. The driver keeps his face down. Whoever planned the route knew where the cameras were weak, which means this was planned.

Three days, and there’s still been no demand. I know Sergei didn’t take her. I have eyes and ears everywhere, and she hasn’t been seen in the Antonov house. If he’s hiding her or worse… I will kill that bastard.

There’s no proof of life except the footage from the basement, where she was pushed into the car alive.

That is the only thing keeping half the city from burning.

By evening, Mikhail insists we sit at the dining table. He says the house needs order. He says the men need to see me in control. He says Sofia will not be found faster because I spend another night standing over maps.

I let him arrange it.

The dining room is full, but no one relaxes. Grigori sits to my right with Maksim between him and Irina. Kirill is farther down with Lev. Nikolai stands near the wall, because he never sits unless he has to. Mikhail sits opposite me and watches everything.

I hold a glass of water and listen.

“Two Sokolov cars crossed the border yesterday,” Lev says. “Neither had her.”

“Dmitri?”

“Hidden. His father moved him after the gallery.”

“He needs doctors,” I say. “Find the doctors.”

“We’re on it.”

I look at Mikhail. “Sergei?”

“No visible movement. No direct communication with Sokolov that we can prove.”