Page 79 of Trapping His Darling

I clenched my fists, a mixture of relief and determination coursing through me. “Thank you, Roman. You’ve been invaluable.”

He smiled faintly, a glimmer of pride in his young eyes. “We’ll find her, Sir. I’m sure of it.”

With renewed purpose, I moved towards the door, Roman at my side. We were a mismatched pair; me, a hardened BratvaPakhan, and Roman, a child genius. But together, we were determined to bring Tiffany back, to face whatever darkness awaited us, and to ensure that justice was served.

As we prepared to set out into the unforgiving streets of Tuscany, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of hope. With Roman’s intellect and my unwavering determination, we would follow the trail wherever it led, and bring Tiffany back from the shadows that threatened to consume her.

The momentI entered the building, I could sense the residual tension in the air, the echoes of the struggle that had taken place. Broken glass and scattered debris hinted at a fierce confrontation. My instincts guided me through the dimly lit corridors, until I reached the room where Tiffany had been held captive.

As I pushed open the door to the room where Tiffany was, a chilling sense of foreboding washed over me. The room bore the scars of the recent struggle; a battle fought between darkness and survival.

The stale air hung heavy with tension, mingling with the faint metallic scent of blood. Shards of shattered glass littered the floor like broken dreams, glinting in the dim light that filtered through cracked windows. The walls, once a sterile white, were now marred with scuff marks, evidence of Tiffany’s desperate fight for freedom.

The room where they’d held her was now empty, a haunting silence echoing off the walls.

Yelling outside pulled me away. I rushed out, searching for any trace of her, but she’d vanished like a wisp of smoke. Instead, a frightening scene of violence laid before me.

Roman was gripping at his neck while blood poured down. A man was on the ground as Alexie sliced into him.

“Stop, we need him for information.” I tried to pull my brother away, but he was too far gone.

I narrowly ducked away from his knife as he went on a rampage, avenging his protege.

I slid over to Roman and applied pressure.

“Call a fucking doctor!” I ordered.

Alexie dropped to his knees beside me. Everything stilled. I’d never seen my brother look like this before. Grief and anguish softened his face. For a moment time stopped as I reached one blood covered hand out to him.

“It will be alright. He will survive this.”

Alexie looked at me. “How do you know?” His voice cracked.

“Because he's a Petrov,” was the only proper response.

Alexie hugged me, and I thought I heard a sniffle coming from him. But I must’ve been mistaken. My brother didn’t care about anyone but himself. Right?

I couldn’t be more wrong as I watched Alexie struggle to pick Roman up off the ground. The deadweight had him stumbling. I reached out to help.

Together, we lifted Roman up and rushed him back to the safe house. The doctor was there when we were. Lucky for him, or else he would’ve died this very night. We laid Roman’s still form on the bed.

“Everyone out,” Dr. Heindrich demanded.

“The fuck I’m going anywhere.” Alexie’s deadly tone kept the surgeon in his place.

I walked over and gripped his shoulder tightly. “You owe us, so you don’t have any power here. Fix his son, or I will pick up your wife and your daughters, and give them to all my men, while they grieve for their fallen comrade you didn’t help save.”

“Meanwhile, you’ll be chilling at the bottom of our family’s lake,” Alexie tacked on.

Dr. Heindrich went to work. I left the room and stumbled off to the bathroom. I couldn’t believe how deeply Alexie cared for a street urchin he adopted on a whim. I’d never thought of Roman as family, but that little boy was strong, and he deserved our last name.

Hopefully he’d survive his injury, unlike the man who gave it to him. I needed to find my wife. She was still missing. I cleaned my hands in the bathroom, staring at the blood as it drained down. I needed a drink. That was only our first stop, we had plenty more to go.

It infuriated me to know she could be out in the world. Hurt. Frustration and exhaustion gnawed at my resolve, as I returned to our room, my footsteps heavy with defeat.

I longed for the solace of a bottle of vodka, a brief respite from the relentless manhunt that had consumed the night. The app on my phone that I completely forgot tracked Tiffany’s movements pinged. I looked down as I was going inside. Something was off with the tracking device. It showed Tiffany was right on top of me, and as I entered, my tired eyes fell upon an unexpected sight; a sight that left me utterly perplexed.

There she was, Tiffany, reclining on the sofa with a nonchalant grace, a tiny little smirk playing at the corners of her lips. It was as if she had been waiting for me, an enigma wrapped in a riddle.

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