Page 77 of Forced Marriage Vows

“Okay, Daddy,” he says cheerfully. “Bye, Ana.”

“Bye, Jalen.”

He leaves with his mother and I feel a certain hollowness in my chest as I watch them go. I already miss him, which is crazy because I spent three years without a clue about his existence. Anastasia wraps her hands around my waist, peering up at me.

“You were amazing.”

“No, you were,” I correct, my heart thumping in my chest.

I lean down to give her a lingering kiss, savoring her softness before I pull back to rest my forehead against hers. I feel hopeful. Which is an emotion I hadn’t even realized I didn’t feel until now when it’s been returned to my life.

The thing about hope, though, is that most of the time, it can turn to dust.

CHAPTER 23

Anastasia

Mikhail and I are trying to enjoy a Sunday afternoon, watching a movie together, when my phone suddenly starts ringing. I’ve never been a very religious person but I swear as soon as I look at the phone, chills spread up my arms.

It’s Sierra. She and Jalen just left the house about an hour ago. They popped in to see us and have lunch on their way home from church.

The second I answer the call, all I can hear is crying. I sit up, feeling my throat immediately close up. I push past it and struggle to speak.

“Sierra,” I murmur gently. “What is it? Are you okay?”

Mikhail’s alert behind me. He doesn’t speak, but I heart his breaths quickening and I know when I look in his face, all I’ll see is stark worry and fear.

“Ana,” she whispers sounding hollow and unlike herself, “they took Jalen.”

Over the next hour, a cavalry arrives inside our penthouse apartment. It takes only an hour to call anyone and everyone with any authority in this city, and Mikhail has them all searching for his son.

“I want every camera checked,” he barks, looking every bit like a general at the head of his army. “Whoever was responsible will be found.”

I’m comforting a crying Sierra on my couch, watching as my husband also tries his best not to fall apart.

In my heart, I already know who was responsible. And I think Mikhail knows too, but it isn’t until the Italians walk through our door that they give us the reality check we hadn’t wanted to face.

Adrian Rossi snarls at my husband, “So what? Finding Igor’s a priority now that he’s kidnapped your child?”

My heart stops and I want to tell him that’s wrong. My father would never harm that sweet little boy. Mikhail glances at me in the next moment, his jaw clenched.

“If Igor really took him, then I’ll tear this city apart to get him back,” he states.

The Don speaks next, his entire demeanor calm and alert. “Have any calls been made? If this is a hostage situation, I’d expect he’d contact us to make any demands.”

“He knows we’d be tracking any number he used to call us until we found his location,” Ivan Volkov speaks up from Mikhail’s side.

They’re all distracted so I use that opportunity to sneak out, heading to the bedrooms. I’m gripping my phone tight in my hands as I step inside. It’s been weeks since I’ve tried tocommunicate with my dad. The number I had is unsurprisingly out of service, but I’ve got a backup option.

I dial Coda’s number, hoping and praying he picks it up.

“Anastasia,” he says, answering on the third ring.

And the way he says my name like he’d been expecting me to call has my heart skipping several beats.

“Please tell me you don’t have him,” I beg, feeling a muscle spasm in my arm.

Coda hasn’t been in contact with me since Mikhail kidnaped me from my home. I took that to mean that he was safe and had managed to find and regroup with my father.

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