Page 53 of Forced Bratva Hostage

I didn't do anything with that seductress, but I could only imagine how it must have looked from my wife's point of view. Veronica had been too close to me and, at some point, had her hands all over me. What if Wren had witnessed that?

Fuck. She'd probably be thinking that I didn't care about her or that I was having an affair with Veronica. The need to explain myself over a misconception was alien to me, and I hated the way my heart was racing in my chest.

I couldn't stomach the thought of her having the wrong notion about what she may or may not have seen. There was a perfectly reasonable explanation for what happened, and I was willing to set the record straight.

But first, I had to find her.

I walked through the crowd, my sharp eyes scanning the space until I spotted the behind of a woman in a red gown with dark, wavy hair. However, as I approached her with a quickened pace, she turned, smiling at a friend, and immediately, I stopped in my tracks, shoulders slumping in disappointment.

It wasn't her. The woman was dressed like her and looked like her from the back, but it wasn't her.

I dug my hand into my pocket and withdrew my phone, dialing her number. My jaw clenched when my call went straight to voicemail. Her phone's battery shouldn't be dead, so why was it switched off?

Now, I was starting to worry, and with good reason—she wasn't at the party, and her phone was dead, which was odd. My chest grew heavier with each passing moment, my mind flooding with negative thoughts, all of which I struggled to dispel.

I called Yakov's phone as I headed outside. Maybe she went out for some fresh air, and I'd need all hands on deck in order to find her quicker.

“Boss,” he answered on the other line.

“Gather the men. Tell them to find my wife. She's not in the building. Have them search the entire compound,” I instructed, my tone dripping with urgency as I stepped outside, my eyes looking around for any sign of her.

“Understood,” he said. “But Boss, there's something you need to see.”

I spotted him standing beside his car with a few of my men around him. “Get the men to work. I'm coming to you.” I hung up the phone.

As I descended the long steps at the entrance of the building, I watched him give the order, his hands flying around, showing them what grounds to cover.

“Boss,” he greeted as I halted in front of him. “The men are out looking for her. As long as she's in the compound, they'll find her.”

The statement didn't sit right with me, but I wouldn't let negativity sink in.

“What is it you wanted to show me?” I asked, hoping to at least distract my mind while the men searched for her.

He revealed his iPad, showing me footage of a man walking into the building, clad in a black suit. My brows knitted as I recognized him. It was Kolya, the idiot who had stolen from me. He still had the scar on his face—courtesy of Afanasy Tarasov.

I knew scarring him for life was a great punishment, considering how much he adored his handsome face.

But what the hell was he doing here? He was supposed to be far away from the city, and why was he scanning the surroundings like he was about to…?

My breath caught in my throat as the realization kicked in. He wouldn't dare.

I clenched my jaw.

“If Kolya is here, that means he's up to no good,” Yakov said, looking at me, probably thinking,I told you we should've killed the bastard.

“Where's he now?” I asked through gritted teeth.

He swiped his finger across the screen, skipping to the next footage. “CCTV caught his car exiting the compound about ten minutes ago.”

Dang it! That was around the same time that I was with Veronica, around the same time that Alexei said he'd seen Wren going in my direction.

It was no coincidence that my wife was missing on the same night Kolya stepped foot into the building. Why would he come around, only to leave within ten minutes?

“Boss, you don't think he…?” Yakov's words paused mid-statement, his eyes lingering on me. “Surely, he's not that stupid.” He frowned at the possibility of Kolya's involvement in Wren's vanishing.

“Get in the car, now!” I instructed, rushing toward the vehicle.

I yanked the door open and slid into the front passenger seat. Seconds later, Yakov grabbed the wheel, giving orders through the walkie-talkie, instructing the men to get in the vehicles and follow us.

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