Page 112 of Savage Reign

Roman and Pavel sit in the leather chairs in my office, their eyes drilling into me. Vadim leans against the far wall, his arms crossed, while Eva is seated on the couch.

I’ve told them everything from the beginning—about marrying Sofiya, my partnership with Igor, how I learned he’s been working against me and likely turned Emil, and the events that unfolded tonight. The hardest part is explaining that she’s missing.

When I finish speaking, Roman looks like he’s seconds away from lunging across the desk and throttling me. Pavel’s expression is cold, more measured, but no less lethal. They don’t speak, and the silence is worse than if they were shouting.

I deserve their wrath for failing to protect Sofiya. I allowed someone to get close enough to betray me, and now she’s in danger. I blame myself more than anyone. But blame won’t bring her back. Nothing will except figuring out where she is.

“That’s all we know right now. Igor’s behind this, and Emil’s working with him. That’s where we start.” I look at Vadim. “Have our hackers analyze CCTV footage and cross-reference it with traffic control systems to trace Emil’s route after the club.”

Vadim nods and fires off a text.

Roman tilts his head, his voice like ice. “This happened on your watch. The only reason we’re still sitting here is because Sofiya begged Liza not to attack. Don’t think for a moment that I trust you.”

Eva crosses her arms and glares at Roman. “Well, you better learn some trust, because whether you like it or not, we’re going to have to work together to find her.”

Roman doesn’t respond, but a muscle in his cheek twitches.

I clear my throat. “Sofiya wears a tracking monitor. I turned it off last night before we went out because I didn’t want an alarm going off, but we need to find a way to activate it remotely.”

“You had her wearing a fucking tracking monitor?” Roman growls.

I arch a brow. “Besides the point. Right now, it could be helpful.”

Vadim straightens. “Let me see what I can do.” He strides over to the computer at the side of the room, pulling the chair out and sitting. His fingers fly across the keyboard. “What kind of device is it? Did you encrypt the signal, or are we working with a default setup?”

I blow out a breath and hand him my phone with the tracking app turned on. “I don’t fucking know, our tech guys set it up. Everything you need is right here.”

Vadim nods, muttering to himself as he works. Roman watches him like a hawk, his tension palpable. Pavel rises to stand behind Vadim as he works.

I can feel Roman’s eyes on me, and I meet his stare, refusing to look away. “Something you want to say to me, Vasiliev?”

“I’m trying to figure you out. If you’ve tricked or manipulated Sofiya into falling for you, I’ll flay you alive.”

I run a finger over the indent in my chin. “That’s fair.”

“What does that mean?”

I throw my hands wide. “It means I didn’t trick or play or manipulate her. It means I fell just as hard for her. I’d burn the world to ashes to get her back. I’d trade every deal, every ounce of my power, for her happiness.” My voice cracks, and I resist the urge to smash a fist through the wall.

Roman blinks, clearly caught off guard by my response.

I open my desk drawer and pull out the documents for the casino deal. Slapping them onto the desk, I push them toward him. “These are the papers Igor wanted me to sign. The deal I walked away from so I could show you how serious I am about her.”

Roman picks up the papers, his expression hard as he flips through them. Finally, he sets them down and gives me a tight nod. “You’re still an asshole, but I believe you.”

It’s not forgiveness, but I’ll take it. However, nothing can erase the unease gnawing at me. Sofiya’s still out there, and every second she’s in Igor’s hands feels like torture.

A moment later, Vadim curses and leans back in frustration. “There’s no signal. They must’ve removed the monitor.”

Pavel steps forward. “Mind if I try?”

Vadim looks at me, and I dip my chin. Pavel takes a seat and cracks his knuckles. “What kind of encryption am I dealing with?”

“Military grade,” Vadim says flatly.

Pavel’s lips twitch, the closest thing to amusement I’ve seen from him all night. “Let’s see if it holds up.”

The room goes quiet except for the rapid clicking of keys. Roman’s eyes dart between Pavel and the screen, his hands curled into fists on the armrests of his chair.

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