Page 70 of Accidentally Knocked Up By the Bratva

"Smart move at the time," Denis muses, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm on the armrest. "Any other leads?"

I shake my head, the weight of my worry pressing down on me. "Nothing concrete. But I can feel it in my gut—she's in danger."

Mark stands, his imposing frame casting a shadow across the room. "Then we tear this city apart until we find her."

I nod, grateful for their unwavering support. "We need a plan. Ideas?"

As my brothers brainstorm, I can't help but imagine Zara's face—her soft smile, the light in her eyes. The thought of that light dimming, of her being afraid…

A sudden idea pierces through my racing thoughts. "Wait," I say, my voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. "Zara mentioned she was going with her cousin Carl.”

Vladimir's eyes narrow. "Carl? Isn't he the one whose family is always asking for money?"

I nod, a plan already forming. "Exactly. Zara says he’s different, that he’s changed. I have my doubts now. And I bet he hasn't changed his habits when it comes to technology either."

Denis catches on immediately. "You think we can track his GPS?"

"It's worth a shot," I reply, already moving toward my laptop.

My fingers fly over the keyboard, accessing systems that most people don't even know exist. I pay a man on the dark web with crypto. Half an hour later, we have everything on Carl. His address, his social security, his passport number, bank statements, and… jackpot—his vehicle number. The familiar rush of adrenaline courses through me, but it's tinged with desperation this time.

We hack into his car.

"Got it," I mutter after a few tense minutes. "Looks like he took a strange route. Heading out of the city, then…"

Mark leans over my shoulder, his presence looming. "Where did he end up?"

I zoom in on the map, my heart rate quickening. "An empty street on the outskirts. Middle of nowhere."

Vladimir's voice is low, dangerous. "That doesn't sound good, Brother."

"No," I agree, already standing and reaching for my coat. "It doesn't. Let's move."

***

The dilapidated building looms before us, a decaying monolith against the darkening sky. Its windows are like hollow eyes staring blankly into the night. I feel a chill that has nothing to do with the cool evening air.

“There,” I whisper, pointing at Zara’s car. “She’s somewhere here.”

"This is it," I mutter, my hand instinctively reaching for my weapon. "Be ready for anything."

Vladimir nods, his face a mask of controlled aggression. "Always, Brother."

We approach the building cautiously, our footsteps crunching on broken glass and debris. The door hangs off its hinges, groaning ominously as Denis pushes it open. The smell of mold and decay assaults us as we step inside.

"Zara?" I call out, my voice echoing in the empty space. No response.

We move deeper into the building, our eyes adjusting to the gloom. Suddenly, Mark's sharp intake of breath catches my attention.

"Abram," he whispers, pointing to a corner.

There, slumped against the wall, is Carl. His eyes are red, like they’ve been burnt, the skin around them purple. But it's not his condition that makes my blood run cold—it's the absence of Zara.

"Where is she?" I growl, striding toward Carl. "What have you done with her?"

Carl's eyes flutter open, fear flashing across his face as he recognizes me. "A-Abram? I… I don't…"

I grab him by the collar, my patience evaporating. "Where. Is. Zara?"

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