Page 22 of Lethal Alliance

“And she knewwhythey were coming for them.” He cuts me off impatiently. “So she did the only thing she thought might keep them safe: she ran.”

For a long moment we stare at each other, Mickey white-faced and breathing hard, me temporarily frozen as the pieces slowly sink into place.

They’re forming a new pattern. One I didn’t consider until now.

One I goddamn missed.

“I want my sisters back more than anything,” Mickey says quietly. “But Darya is our family, too. You told us that yourself. You’ve been looking in the wrong place, Roman. We all have.”

I stare at him, horrified realization dawning.

If he’s right . . .

I’m reaching for my phone when the elevator dings and Dimitry steps out. “Boss. I’m sorry to interrupt, but—” He sees my face and halts. “What’s happened?”

“Inger,” I manage. My voice sounds like it’s coming from someone else.

“That’s what I came to tell you.” His voice is resigned. “She’s gone, Roman. You were right,” he says, nodding at Mickey. “Mickey asked me if anyone knew if Inger had actually gone to an ER. None of us had bothered to check. And he was right. Inger never showed up at a hospital. She’s not answering her phone, and there’s no trace of her anywhere. It looks like it was her who took the girls.”

I grip the table again, a slow, burning fury taking hold of me. “Inger was in the apartment. She had access to their passports.”

“She took them.” Mickey confirms what I already know. “I hacked the security footage from the apartment.”

And I blamed Darya.

I think of my final words to her and wince.

I told her to run for her life. I told her that if my children were harmed, I’d hunt her down myself and kill her.

I rub a hand over my face.

I told her I’d kill her myself.

I think of her expression as she backed away from me toward the exit. It was guilt, and I’d read that as confirmation that she was complicit in her brother’s plans.

The truth is that Darya felt guilty that the Orlovs’ relentless pursuit of her had put the children in danger.

Mickey was right. So was Dimitry.

Darya would never endanger the children.

I know that, just like I know Inger wouldn’t hesitate to do so. Especially if she thought she would gain something from it.

And now Inger has my two daughters. Or rather mine and Vilnus Orlov’s.

Not that I give a fuck what a piece of paper says. Ofelia and Masha are my girls. My babies. Now and always.

Inger, however, must have thought she’d hit the fucking jackpot when she’d found out about their paternity.

Darya.

Oh, God. She’s out there alone. Afraid.

And she thinks I hate her.

Shame and a terrible, gut-wrenching fear twist inside me. The three girls I love most in this world are lost to me—and I’ve wasted twenty-four hours by being an idiot.

The elevator doors ding, and we all turn. Abby steps out, wild-eyed, her face crimson with fury.

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