Page 41 of The Bratva Queens' Kings

I meet her gaze, nodding once. "They're on it, Lana. We'll find her."

"You don't understand, Luca. I lost someone before, and I won't let that happen again."

I can see the fear in her eyes, the desperation that fuels her determination. But I also see the resilience, the strength that has carried her this far. I know I can't make any promises, especially not in this line of work. But I can give her the one thing she's been missing: hope.

"Lana, listen to me," I say, trying to convey the sincerity behind my words. "We'll find Julia. But we can't afford to panic, okay? We need to stay focused, to think clearly. Time is our enemy here, and we have to use it wisely."

The room holds its breath as the last piece of the puzzle clicks into place, the techs managing to pull up the audio of the last call made from Julia's phone. A hush falls over the room, every eye fixed on the speakers as the play button is pressed.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Julia."

That voice. Roman's voice. The familiarity of it, laced now with a betrayal so deep it sends a shockwave through the room. Goosebumps raise on my arms, a visceral reaction to the undeniable truth laid bare before us. This can't be right, yet there it is, as clear as day.

Disbelief, anger, betrayal—all of it mixes in a potent cocktail that leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I glance at Lana, seeing my own turmoil reflected in her eyes. The Roman we thought we knew, the man we considered family, has just been unmasked as the architect of our current nightmare.

Lana's fury crackles through the air like a live wire, her command slicing through the stunned silence. "Track his fucking phone! I'm going to kill him myself!"

The team exchanges uneasy glances, the gravity of the situation settling in. Protests bubble up, half-formed words of caution and concern, but Lana's not having any of it. "I said track his phone!" she screams.

Under the weight of her command, the team springs into action, fingers flying over keyboards with renewed urgency.

Grigori is there in an instant. He reaches for Lana, his touch gentle but firm, an attempt to anchor her to the present, to temper the rage boiling within. "Lana, we need to think this through," he tries.

But the die is cast, and the chips fall with startling clarity. The digital breadcrumbs lead not just anywhere, but to Perez's house—the heart of the viper's nest.

Lana's rage boils over, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "If Perez wants a war, he's going to get one. I will not be seen as weak. I will not be bullied into handing over everything I've worked for, and I will not allow my best friend to be hurt."

Grigori steps in, trying to inject a note of caution. "Lana, think this through. Charging in blindly—"

She whirls on him, her fury undiminished. "Think it through? My best friend is in the hands of that snake, and you want me to sit here and strategize?"

I join in. "We need a plan, Lana. Going in guns blazing won't save Julia. It could get her killed."

Lana's glare could cut steel. "So, what? We just sit back and let them take her? Let them think they can push us around? No. I'm done playing it safe."

Grigori tries again, voice steady. "Nobody is saying we do nothing. We're saying we do it smart. We can't afford to lose you too."

Lana's breathing is heavy, "Lose me? I lost myself the moment they took Julia. What's left to lose?"

I step closer, the urgency in my heart translating into a fierce determination in my voice. "You, of course! I can't afford to lose you too."

"You may not have a choice, Luca. I won't let them get away with this. I won't let Roman or Perez destroy us."

We need a plan," I assert, breaking the charged silence, my mind racing through every possible strategy that could bring Julia back without risking us further.

Lana's response is immediate, her voice laced with a steely determination that leaves no room for argument. "Oh, I have one." With those words, she strides out of the room, her purpose clear in her swift, decisive steps.

I know exactly where she's headed—the armory. With a heavy sigh, I follow, Grigori at my heels. We both understand the gravity of the situation, the desperation driving Lana, but the thought of her marching into danger, especially in her condition, sends a chill down my spine.

By the time we reach the armory, Lana is already assessing her arsenal, her movements methodical, a general preparing for battle. I step in front of her, blocking her path. "I won't allow you to go there guns blazing while you're pregnant," I say, the weight of my concern for both her and our unborn child heavy in my voice.

Grigori joins in, his stance firm beside me. "Me neither."

Lana's gaze flicks between us, a fire igniting in her eyes at the challenge. "I didn't ask for your permission," she retorts, her voice cold, a clear indication that she doesn't see this as a debate.

With a determined glint in her eyes, Lana brushes past us, grabbing the weapons she deems necessary for the task at hand. I exchange a resigned look with Grigori before following her lead, knowing that trying to dissuade her at this point would only be futile.

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