Page 60 of Dancing With Delusion

I nod again. “This doesn’t leave this room until we know who the fuck is involved. The only person we know for certain is Harriet. She said she’s been to see Victoria and they’d been having sessions. That can’t be true if she isn’t actually in a hospital. She also told me Victoria has been taking her medication. There is no way she should be on Xanax while pregnant.”

“So, what’s the plan?”

“We visit the one person who knows where she is,” I state. “Harriet usually sees her last client at seven. We’ll wait until then to pay our little therapist an after-hours visit. By the time I’m finished with her, she’ll be begging for me to end her.”

“What if she doesn’t know where she is?”

“Then she’ll tell us who does. Someone put her up to signing her off to a non-existing hospital. But we’re not stopping until I have Victoria back. She belongs with me. I’ve failed her enough recently, and I’ll be damned if I let her down again. And every bastard involved will be taken out, one by fucking one. No one will be left standing.”

Marshall stands to leave, and before he gets to the door, I say, “Thank you for not giving up on Victoria, and for coming to me with this. If you’d listened to me, God knows what would have happened.” He offers a small smile and leaves.

He’s loyal, and I know he’d give his life for her, even with me being blinkered for so long.

The Range Rover pulls to a stop outside Harriet’s office just as the time flicks to seven p.m. Marshall rounds the car and opens the door for me. I smirk as I get out. It’s been some time since I got my hands dirty, but this requires my personal touch, and right now, I crave the release of my inner psycho. He’s been held captive for far too long.

I crack my knuckles and a surge of energy radiates through me. I will end anyone standing between me and my krasota. The earth will burn until I have her by my side again. Her and my child.

We enter, and the receptionist eyes us suspiciously. “Miss Steele isn’t taking any more clients today,” she informs us.

“I’m not a client,” I tell her, fixing my eyes on the closed office door.

“She’s expecting us,” adds Marshall.

She picks up the telephone, but Marshall slams his hand over hers, offering her a cold smile. “Let’s surprise her instead.”

She swallows nervously, her eyes flicking back and forth between us. “Could I . . . erm, get you anything, Mr. Volkov?”

My lip lifts at one side. “No, thank you,” I look down at her name badge, “Rosa. You’re free to leave now.” She begins to gather her coat just as Harriet’s door opens. Her eyes widen in panic when they land on me, but she recovers quickly, forcing a tight smile her client’s way as he proceeds to leave.

I place my arm around Rosa’s shoulders, and she jumps nervously at the contact. “I was just telling Rosa here that she’s free to leave now. And we were never here, right?”

Harriet offers a weak smile, locking eyes with Rosa. “Of course, get yourself home.”

Rosa releases the breath she’s been holding and rushes to pack her things, stepping away from me. Then she heads for the exit, looking more than relieved. “See you tomorrow, Rosa,” I shout after her, then I enter Harriet’s office. I’m confident Rosa will not breathe a word of my visit to anyone. After all, people around here know exactly who I am and what I’m capable of.

I take a seat on the plush couch, leaning back as Harriet enters the room. Her steps falter when Marshall stands in the doorway, his frame filling it and blocking any escape.

She takes a seat opposite me, and her eyes occasionally flit to Marshall. Her jaw is tense, and it satisfies me to know she’s worried right now. “What’s the matter, Dr, Steele?”

“Nothing.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I was going to call you back,” she rushes to add, “but it slipped my mind.”

“It’s a bit late for that. I’ve given you plenty of opportunities to get back to me with updates and you chose to avoid me. So, I had to do my own research, and do you know what I found?” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees while rubbing my hands together and fixing her with a stony glare. “Rumour has it that Victoria isn’t where she’s supposed to be.” I stand abruptly, and she recoils slightly.

“Erm . . . I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Volkov,” she almost whispers. At every encounter I’ve ever had with Harriet, I’ve never seen her show an ounce of fear, yet right now, she oozes it in abundance. I know without a doubt that Marshall is right—Victoria is missing, and this bitch knows all about it.

“So, you didn’t know that the hospital you sent Victoria to isn’t actually a registered hospital?” I ask, my tone laced with suspicion. “Or that Victoria is pregnant and therefore would not be taking Xanax like you told me she was.”

She shifts uncomfortably, not quite meeting my eyes. “Dmitry, I?—”

“No disrespect, Doctor, but I’m sick of your bullshit,” I interrupt. “I’m here for one reason and one reason only . . . where the fuck is Victoria?”

“I just signed the paperwork,” she admits.

“You have merely seconds before I get bored, so you should answer.”

“I don’t know,” she cries desperately. I slap her hard, and she sobs uncontrollably. “Please,” she begs.

“This will only get worse the more you drag it out.” I take some photographs out of my breast pocket and throw them on the table in front of her. “You just decide how many of your family and friends you take with you and how painful the end will be.” She looks down at the images in front of her, swallowing hard as she runs her hands over the family shot.

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