Page 99 of The Mafia's Fake Wife

I stare at the message while I calculate every possible angle. Nikolai has finally made his move, using the one piece on the board I can’t afford to lose. I press a button on my desk. “Anton, my office. Now.”

While waiting, I access the tracking system on my computer. Elena’s phone shows movement, heading south on I-95. The signal moves steadily for several seconds after I receive the text before suddenly stopping. They’ve discarded the phone, as expected. Amateur kidnappers keep phones to taunt. Professionals know better.

Anton enters without knocking, his expression grim. “I heard. What do we know?”

“Nikolai.” I turn one of the monitors toward him, showing the kidnapping footage. “Professional job. They’ve already dumped her phone.” I pull up another program on my computer and enter a sixteen-digit code. A new tracking window opens, showing a faint signal.

“The emerald necklace?” he asks, leaning closer to the screen.

“Yes. RFID chip embedded in the setting.” I zoom in on the map. “Signal’s weak but moving southeast toward the Chesapeake.”

“Nikolai must have a safehouse there, or a designated holding area.”

I nod. “Organize three SUVs with full tactical gear. I want our best men. We leave in fifteen minutes.”

Anton nods and pulls out his phone, already making calls as he heads for the door.

I stand and hurry to the bedroom, where I change into black tactical pants and a fitted black shirt that won’t restrict movement. After that, I return to my office to retrieve my gun and holster, strapping on the shoulder holster for the custom Glock 19, my preferred weapon. I check the magazine, chamber a round, and secure it. Next comes a ceramic knife that slidesinto my boot sheath. Finally, I tuck a smaller snub-nose into an ankle holster.

The emerald necklace tracker blinks on my phone screen. The signal grows slightly stronger as our systems recalibrate. They’re definitely heading toward the Chesapeake. Nikolai thinks he’s clever, but I’ll find him.

I pull up the records Anton and Mikhail have been putting together about Nikolai’s holdings. Mikhail has focused on the legally acquired ones, and our IT person, Nazhya, has organized everything into an easily searchable database. I input “Chesapeake” and get back three hits, all for properties owned by companies Nazhya has linked to Nikolai’s holdings or shell corporations.

The most likely one seems to be the ostentatious mansion he acquired four months ago…just about the time I got married, as if he’s been planning this for that long. Sounds just like the bastard.

I study the satellite imagery of the property, which is a modernist mansion on five acres, with a private dock, and surrounded by trees on three sides. Four entry points and minimal external security cameras. Nikolai relies on isolation for protection. His mistake.

My phone rings again. “Yes, Anton?”

“Convoy’s ready. “

I grab my coat and head for the door. “What’s our ETA?”

“Ninety minutes with traffic.”

“I want real-time updates on all movement at the property. Anton?”

“Yes?”

“No one touches Nikolai. He’s mine.”

I end the call and take the private elevator down to the garage level. Three black SUVs wait, engines running. My men stand at attention, dressed in tactical gear, faces grim with determination. They know what’s at stake.

Anton approaches as I reach the vehicles. “Thermal imaging shows movement inside that mansion. We think they might have two guards with her. She seems to be in a room on the second floor, east side.”

I nod, processing this information. “The necklace signal?”

“Getting stronger. We’ll have precise coordinates the closer we get, but it matches what Nazhya dug up about things he owns. Same general location, so I’d bet he’s taking her there.”

“Unless he guessed I tagged her necklace.” I strive to remember if I ever mentioned the item, or its significance, around Nikolai. Considering we were once like brothers, I probably did. I hope he doesn’t remember or make any connection to the emerald necklace and the possibility of me tracking her with it.

We climb into the lead SUV. Viktor, my driver, pulls out immediately, while the other vehicles following close behind. Traffic parts before us as we weave through the city streets.

My phone displays the tracking signal from Elena’s necklace, growing stronger with each mile we travel south. The dot pulses steadily, like a digital heartbeat connecting me to my wife.

“She’s smart,” says Anton, checking his weapons. “She’ll buy time.”

“She shouldn’t have to.” My voice is ice. “This is my fault. I should have anticipated Nikolai would find a way to get to her.”

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