Page 33 of The Lazarov Bratva

Mara appears in the doorway, but only briefly as she’s swept away by several armed guards taking her to safety. My heart drops to my gut, and a cold chill sweeps down my spine, turning my muscles to ice.

“What?”

“The mansion is in lockdown. Security has swept the building from top to bottom, but there’s no sign of her!” Aleksander the Pakhan is briefly replaced by a father, and pain laces his words. “She’s gone, Kristof. She’s fucking gone.”

“Impossible.” This place is a fortress. There’s no way Alena is anywhere but tucked up in a dark corner with her nose in a book.

“We’ve scoured everywhere,” one of the guards remarks. I pull myself over the bar, alcohol and Alexei forgotten.

“You’d think in a place that’s basically a prison, it would be impossible to lose someone.” I snort. Aleksander’s hand shoots out and grabs my arm, his grip painful.

“Kristof, please. For a moment, forget everything else. Alena would never run away. She’s a good girl. Soft. Someone must have taken her.” His breath hitches, and then it hits me.

This isn’t a case of Alena falling asleep in the attic like the last time she disappeared. She’s really gone.

“No…” It can’t be. There’s no fucking way someone took her, right? My heart begins to pound, slow and painful, as we hurry from the bar and out into the hallway. “When was she last seen? Have there been any new guards on the property?”

“She went to bed early, about an hour ago,” one of the guards explains. “She had her nightly hot chocolate and retired. It wasn’t until Mara went to wake her for a wedding-related question that we saw she was missing.”

This fucking wedding. Alarm begins to build inside me, and an impatient itch sweeps down my arms.

“You’re telling me she is definitely not on the property?”

“No, sir.”

“How the fuck did this happen? How the fuck did—” I catch myself, grinding my teeth as my mind races. “Every guard, new or old, I don’t give a shit. You find them, bring them here, and question them until every second is accounted for. Do you understand me?” One guard hurries away with an agreement, and I grab the next by the collar.

“Review all the footage, every single detail, and lock down all exits. No one in, no one out.”

He nods and sprints away, and then I turn to Aleksander.

“Find her,” he orders. “I don’t care what you have to do. You find my daughter, do you hear me?”

“I’ll start at the hut.”

I don’t need to be told twice. With a last glance at Alexei who lingers down the corridor, I sprint for the door and out into the cold night air.

Alena. My Alena.

My sweet, sheltered girl who wouldn’t hurt a fly is out here somewhere, snatched away from the safety of her home. The very thought of her in the hands of anyone who isn’t me is almost suffocating, and my hands shake with suppressed fury as I try to get into my car.

There aren’t many places for me to start looking other than checking with the guard post down the street to see if they saw anything unusual. As I throw the car into gear, I connect a call to the head of security, link my phone to the dash, and then race off down the driveway.

There is one thing that I have to check first. Last year, I gave Alena a stunning platinum pendant on her eighteenth birthday.

If she’s wearing it, the tracker I planted in it will take me to her, and I’m going to kill whoever has taken her.

6

ALENA

There’s pounding music all around, each song blending seamlessly into the next. The lights sway above, flaring slightly in my vision, and the passage of time doesn’t even cross my mind.

There’s only Katja, the fourth drink in my hand, and the alcohol in my veins. It hits me hard, making me feel weightless and bold. I sway slowly in time to the music, gently snapping my fingers on one hand while the other balances my drink as condensation slowly rolls down my fingertips. I close my eyes, and the world melts away.

Pain from my heels becomes an afterthought. The smothering warmth from the sea of bodies around me turns into an alluring heat, and I rock and sway in time to each bass-filled thump.

Katja is next to me, dancing the same, and when I open my eyes, her bright blue eyes catch the light. She grins at me, and I mirror the smile. Sweat clings to me like a second skin, and together, we sparkle from the glitter that’s sprayed through the air. I’m too hot, but I don’t care. Ever since my second Strawberry Woo-Woo, there hasn’t been a single worry in my mind.

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