Page 66 of Trapping His Assassin

Benedikt gagged, looking up from his phone. “That’s enough of that.” He made his way slowly to the bedroom door, hisclothes askew, as his feet aimed for the doorway, but he ended up in front of the door jamb instead.

I refused to let any guilt seep into my conscience. He deserved the punishment he’d received, and I made sure he learned his lesson. As we moved on from the incident, I glanced at the tracking app on my phone that was supposed to show her location. But there was no blinking dot, no sign of her at all. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks; she had disappeared completely without a trace. I grabbed his arm to turn him around.

“She’s gone?” I signed.

“What?” Benedikt paused in the hallway. “What do those signals mean?”

I pulled out my phone, and showed him on the tracking app that her dot was missing. I spun around, my eyes scanning the house for any sign of her. My hand clutched my phone tightly, as if it would somehow reveal her location.

But all I saw was deserted hallways and empty bedrooms. How did she manage to remove the tracking device from her back? I had placed it near her spine during her staycation at the house, ensuring maximum coverage. I couldn’t comprehend how she could have done it, without some kind of assistance, or advanced technology. My mind raced with possibilities as I continued to search for her in vain.

Benedikt’s gaze narrowed as I slapped the screen in aggravation.

“I know we will find her, but I mean, she could be like the Pakhan’s wife and walk off from time to time. Who knows with women?”

I glared at him as I tried to form all the words in the text.

Me: Do you honestly believe she had any choice in the matter? She was taken against her will, and we both know it.

My grip on the phone tightened as I fought to keep my composure, knowing that every second counted in finding her before it was too late.

“How the helldid she disable the tracking device?” My uncle’s astonished tone irritated me.

I glared at him, as we traveled on the Petrov family’s private jet.

Benedikt’s fingers flew over the small keyboard of his phone, while I scanned the computer on my lap for any signs of a cyber attack. My hacker was hunched over, trying to juggle two monitors, typing furiously, and scouring CCTV footage. We were all working together to find a solution before it was too late.

“When was the last time you checked everything?” Benedikt asked me urgently, as he reached out to more contacts.

Up to this point, my efforts had only resulted in fruitless pursuits of women who bore a resemblance to Valentina. But whenever I finally caught up to them, they turned out not to be her.

I signed, a bewildered smile on my face from the confession. “The day I told her we were married. I got comfortable and I haven’t checked since.”

Benedikt sighed, “I always forget how young you truly are, because you don’t carry yourself that way. But in this case, I believe your age is a huge factor. You make mistakes because of this woman. You aren’t as careful.”

He wasn’t saying anything I didn’t already know. I allowed myself to get twisted up in knots over Valentina, instead of ensuring she would never leave. That’s on me.

“We’ve found something else.”

I signed, “Where?” I leaned forward to get a better view.

“It has to be her. CCTV picked her up coming out of a terminal in Switzerland.”

A lightbulb went off in my head.

Me: She must be headed back to the bank we kidnapped her from. That’s where her money is, and if she keeps running, she’ll no doubt need more.

Benedikt nodded as he looked at his screen, reading my message. “Then let’s pick her up.” He went and informed the pilot that our destination had changed. We were planning on going to Chicago or New York, to see if Valentina had fled to an inner city, trying to blend with the locals.

That wasn’t the case.

The woman we ran into was moving there, because she had a job offer. She was flattered we mistook her for my wife. I’m almost certain she had a quickie with Benedikt before we headed to the next lead.

“This better pan out,” I signed, missing my woman.

“She probably hired all of these women to throw us off her scent,” Benedikt pointed out. “I can’t help but think that this is one of the many reasons we can’t catch up to her.”

Me: We know she had help, but who would she turn to?

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