Page 70 of An Arranged Virgin for the Bratva

"Everyone's safe; that's what matters," I say, my voice steady despite the worry gnawing at my gut.

My eyes dart to the exit of the eastern wing, where I last saw Sofia. I had followed her mere moments later but couldn’t find her.

Someone told me they’d seen her leave. Where is she, though? Everyone else is accounted for. The thought pounds in my head with each rapid beat of my heart.

"Vlad!" Denis calls out, striding toward me with Mark close behind. “We heard about the fire and came as soon as we could.”

But it’s the expressions on their faces, grim and worried, that send a chill down my spine.

"What is it?" I demand, my hands clenching into fists at my sides.

Mark's eyes flick to the nearby workers before he lowers his voice. "I just got a call from our guys. The investigating team found traces of accelerant near the origin point in the eastern wing. This wasn't an accident."

My blood runs cold. "Intentional? You're certain?"

Denis nods, his jaw tight. "Multiple ignition points, strategically placed. Someone wanted this place to burn."

The implications hit me like a punch to the gut. If this was deliberate, then Sofia… My protective instincts surge, nearly overwhelming in their intensity.

"Sofia," I growl, my eyes scanning the crowd with renewed urgency. "Has anyone seen her?"

The silence that follows is deafening. My frustration mounts as worried glances are exchanged, but no answers are forthcoming.

I pivot, my mind racing as I survey the chaos around us. "Denis, Mark, gather the others. We need a command center, now."

They nod sharply and disperse without question. My leadership instincts kick in, pushing aside the gnawing fear for Sofia. I can't let emotion cloud my judgment, not when she needs me most.

Within minutes, my brothers and a handful of our most trusted men converge around me.

"Listen up," I bark, my voice cutting through the background noise of the firefighters in action. "We're setting up a field tent with full surveillance capabilities. I want eyes on every inch of this factory, past and present. Show every fireman a photo of Sofia. Make sure they’re looking for her. Tell whoever is able to walk around outside, see if they can find her."

Yuri, always quick on the uptake, interjects, "I can have our tech team patch in remotely. We'll have access to all CCTV footage."

I nod approvingly. "Make it happen. The rest of you secure the perimeter. No one in or out without my say-so. The only exception is if someone is severely injured and leaving via an ambulance."

As the men disperse to their tasks, I can't help but think of Sofia. I suck in a deep breath, the pain feeling like a stab in the chest. I clench my fists and dig my nails into my skin. I need to not feel. The thought of her in danger…

"We'll find her, Vlad," Denis says quietly, reading the tension in my shoulders.

I meet his eyes, allowing a moment of vulnerability. "We have to. If anything's happened to her…"

The words hang unfinished, but the fierce protectiveness in my tone speaks volumes.

Half an hour later, the makeshift command center buzzes with tense energy. Fingers fly over keyboards, voices murmur urgently, and the glow of multiple screens bathes us all in an eerie blue light. I stand behind the tech team, my hands gripping the back of a chair so tightly my knuckles have gone white. Every second that ticks by without a sign of Sofia feels like an eternity.

"Anything?" I growl, my patience wearing thin.

One of the techs glances up at me, his face pale. "We're combing through the footage as fast as we can, Sir. The east wing cameras were damaged in the fire, but we're piecing together what we can from—"

"There!" Another tech interrupts, pointing at his screen. "I've got movement in the back alley, time stamp matches our window."

I lean in, my heart pounding. The grainy footage shows a familiar figure—Sofia, her blonde hair unmistakable even in the poor quality of the video. She's moving with purpose, her tall, slim frame tense with determination.

I frown. What the hell is she doing back there?

But then I see him. Alexei Volkov, emerging from the shadows like a nightmare made flesh.

"Sofia, no," I breathe, watching helplessly as she confronts him. Her stance is defiant, and I can almost hear the sarcasm in her voice as she faces off against an enemy with the most cause to hurt us.

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