Page 19 of Sinful Bride

“Sofi, call Lev and have his men secure the parking garage. Dom can check the elevators. You—” I point at the guard. “—are going to show me the security footage for my wife’s room.”

“I am not—what the fuck?! Let go!”

I don’t have time for this bureaucratic bullshit. I grab him by the collar and drag his cowardly ass to a door that looks like it belongs to the back end of operations. “Is this it?”

He clams up.

I slam him into the door and jab my finger in his face. “Listen to me right now, motherfucker, because I’m not going to fucking repeat myself. If my daughter is lost to your negligence, I will personally make sure your life becomes a living hell. I brought a goddamn gun to a hospital—do you think I’m playing around?”

“N-no.”

“Correct. I am not. So let me ask you again: is this where the security footage is stored?”

He nods. “Y-yes. B-but you have t-to understand?—”

“I don’t have to understand shit. Open it. Now.”

I have neither the time nor the patience to figure out what his problem is. Once he works the lock open, I shove him inside and make him sit in the chair at the controls to pull up the feed from Daphne’s room a few minutes ago.

“Right there.” I point at one of the screens where it shows Stewart and Ophelia entering the room. Even just watching a recording of them makes my fist clench. “Slow it down. There.”

He follows my orders surprisingly well, slowing the playback around the time the place was swarming with angry family members and exasperated security guards.

“Slower.”

I can see Tatyanna in her bassinet. Bodies moving back and forth prevent me from getting a clear view of her. But when they part again, her bassinet is empty.

Ophelia’s bag, however, looks suspiciously full.

“Play it back again. Five seconds.”

The image on the screen rewinds, then plays again. This time, I focus on tracking Ophelia’s every move.

The camera never catches her in the exact act, but it’s unmistakable: her bag is limp and empty before the swarm, then full and heavier after.

She glances around, then zips it up.

“Make a copy of this. I’ll send someone in to pick it up later.”

“I’m not just gonna?—”

I hold a hand up to silence him. Not just because I’m tired of his weak protests, but also because there’s something else on an adjacent screen. A highly relevant scene that a different camera caught on tape.

Stewart Hamish… handing this same exact head of security a wad of cash.

“You son of a bitch.” I grab the back of his head and slam his face against the screen. Spiderweb cracks go rippling across the image of him accepting the bribe. “What did they tell you to do? Huh? What the fuck did they pay you to do?”

“Just to slow you down!” he wails. The guard was not cut out for this job. He breaks into a screaming sob and spittle flies across the glass. “They just wanted you delayed! A hundred dollars to buy them time!”

“A hundred fucking dollars?!”

My fist connects with his gut before I can even process my rage. He doubles over, and it’s exactly the angle I need to slam his head against the desk once again.

“What kind of cheap motherfucker sells out a baby?!”

Sofi runs into the cramped space. When she sees me slam his face against the screen again, and what’s happening on the screen itself, it doesn’t take long for her to piece the puzzle together.

Her face darkens and she straightens into the pakhan’s second I need her to be right now. “Tell me what to do.”

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