Page 107 of Savage Reign

He slides in beside me, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Hello, Sofiya,” Igor drawls, his tone far too pleasant for the circumstances.

My throat tightens, and I press back against the seat. “What’s going on? Why are you here?” I demand.

The car speeds off again, and I catch Emil’s stony expression in the rearview mirror. This isn’t good.

Igor leans back, his posture casual, like we’re old friends catching up. “Don’t look so scared. We’re just going for a little drive.”

I shake my head, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Emil, stop the car right now. I want to get out.”

Emil ignores me. I lunge for the door handle, not caring that the car is moving.

Igor’s hand clamps down on my wrist like a vise, twisting hard. I cry out in pain.

“You’re not going anywhere, my beautiful little dancer. You and I have much to discuss.”

“No we don’t!” I scream, thrashing as Igor presses a cloth over my mouth and nose. The chemical smell is overpowering, burning my throat. My vision blurs, and my limbs grow heavy as I fight against the darkness closing in.

The last thing I see is his smug face before everything fades to black.

CHAPTER

FORTY-TWO

NIKOLAI

My shirt hangs open,the fabric slick with blood from the graze on my shoulder. With a grimace, I unscrew the vodka bottle, pour a shot, and toss it back.

Tilting the bottle, I let the alcohol spill over the wound. The sting is sharp enough to make my head swim for a moment.

“Fuck,” I mutter, grabbing a fresh bandage and pressing it against the graze. It could have been worse. The pain is a welcome distraction, a reminder that I’m alive. It feels like the only thing keeping me from spinning out of control.

Sofiya could have been killed tonight. It would’ve been the second time her life was in danger under my watch, and that fact eats away at me. I’ve failed her again, and I fucking hate it.

Emil got her out while the fighting was still going on. I’m furious he didn’t wait for my orders, but at least she’s safe. He texted to say they’re en route to the estate.

I still don’t have a clue who’s behind the attack—the Syndicate, the goddamn Azerbaijanis, or some unknown enemy lurking in the shadows. In my world, anything is possible.

Eva and Vadim enter my office a moment later as I fumble with the bandage one-handed. Eva clicks her tongue and snatches it from me.

“You’re going to make it worse,” she mutters, taking over first-aid duty.

When she’s done, Vadim presses a spare, clean shirt into my hands. “Try not to bleed through this one,” he says dryly.

I rub at my temples. “What did you learn?”

Eva blows out a breath. “The men who attacked us arrived in an unmarked van. They were all wearing black, with no visible signs of affiliation. It’s possible they were mercenaries hired for this job.”

I nod, wiping the sweat from my face. “And the dead?”

Vadim shakes his head. “No tattoos, no scars, no identifiers. We’re still running their images through facial recognition software to see if we get any hits.”

I run a palm over my chin. “It feels like it was meant as a distraction more than an attack.”

“The Belov Syndicate?” Vadim suggests. “Could they have been looking for Sofiya?”

My blood freezes. “How would they know she’s here? Details of the party were kept secret until the last minute.”

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