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Marta shakes her head, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t...I don’t know,” she sobs, her voice breaking. “She—she told me to take Seraphina and get her to the safe room. Then she ran out. Into the gardens.”

My blood turns to ice in my veins. The gardens. Katerina is alone. Unprotected.

My feet pound against the marble as I race for the back of the house. I can hear my men behind me, shouting and cursing, the sharp click of rounds being chambered and safeties being flicked off.

But it’s all distant and muffled, like I’m hearing it from underwater.

All I can focus on is the pounding of my own heart, the sickening surge of adrenaline that floods my system and sets every nerve alight with dread.

I have to find her.

I have to get to her before…

I slam through the patio doors, the sunlight hitting me.

For a moment, I’m blinded, my eyes struggling to adjust to the sudden brightness.

Then I see it.

The black SUV, tearing across the south lawn, gravel spraying from beneath its tires.

It’s moving fast, too fast, and even from here I can see the glint of gunmetal through the open windows.

They have her. They have Katerina.

The realization drives the air from my lungs in a ragged, agonized gasp.

For a split second, I’m paralyzed by a fear so profound it borders on madness.

The rage hits, a white-hot blast of fury that sears through my veins like molten lava.

It bursts from my throat in a roar that hardly sounds human, a sound of such primal, animalistic anguish that it scarcely seems possible it came from me.

My feet fly over the grass, my lungs burning and my heart slamming against my ribs. I can hear the shouts of my men behind me, the pounding of their own footsteps as they race to catch up.

But it’s too late. The SUV is already tearing through the front gates, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust and the acrid stench of burning rubber in its wake.

They’re gone. She’s gone.

I stumble to a halt, my chest heaving and my hands shaking.

I can feel the scream building in my throat again. But before it can tear free, there’s a rough hand on my shoulder.

I spin, my fist already cocked back to strike, and find myself face to face with my head of security.

“Report,” I snarl, the word tasting like blood and bile on my tongue. “What the fuck happened?”

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Four assailants, heavily armed. They breached the perimeter on the south wall and made straight for the gardens. We engaged, but…”

He hesitates, his eyes flicking away from mine. I know what he’s going to say before the words even leave his lips.

“They took her, boss. Dr. Sokolov. We found signs of a struggle in the maze, blood on the gravel. They must have overwhelmed her, dragged her out…”

The rest of his words fade into a dull, distant buzz. Blood on the gravel. Signs of a struggle.

God, what have they done to her?

The rage that swells up in me is like nothing I’ve ever felt before.