Page 92 of Unspoken

It hurts. Hurts so bad, but I can't just give up. Can't give up Sasha. "It’s not your fucking place to judge whom he likes."

Vlad dares to take a step in my direction again and I’m ready to punch him back if I must. "I do not care who Sasha fucks," he spits, "but you should have known better than to shit where you eat, Logan. Did you really think you two could keep this a secret?"

I straighten, meeting Vlad's gaze head-on. "I have feelings for him," I say simply, the truth of it ringing in my bones. "And he has feelings for me. That's all that matters."

"No, you dumb piece of shit. What matters is the fact that you two did not even bother to hide it well. My enemies have been able to get a gazillion photos. How is that protecting Alexander? You had one job Logan and you fucked it up. And now I don’t know where my brother is."

I hear Vlad loud and clear all of a sudden. "I’m here. I’ll help to look for him."

"Do you not think I have enough men to scour the city?"

"They don’t know Sasha as well as I do."

Vlad opens his mouth to retort, but before he can speak, the shrill of his phone on the desk shatters the tension. He snatches it, his eyes never leaving mine as he answers.

"Vlad speaking," he barks.

I watch as his expression shifts again. This time a flicker of fear passes over his features before they harden once more. He listens for a moment, turning away from me, his knuckles whitearound the phone, jaw clenched tight. Then he ends the call with a curt, "I understand."

The silence that follows is deafening. Vlad spins around, his face becoming a mask of grim determination.

"They have Sasha," he says, his voice flat, emotionless.

The blood drains from my face as Vlad's words sink in. "What do you mean, they have Sasha?" My voice trembles. "Who?"

Vlad's eyes are cold. "The people who sent those photos... They asked if I enjoyed the show." He pauses.

My heart pounds in my chest, a sickening rhythm of fear and guilt. "What do they want?"

"They said they would let me know when they are done having fun with him."

No, no... This can't be happening.

CHAPTER 31

LOGAN

My pulse is loud in my ears, an unstoppable drumbeat of dread. Vlad slams his phone down on the desk and rakes a hand through his slicked-back hair, a rare slip in his normally unflappable composure. Not counting the blow that he delivered just now. The energy in the room crackles with restrained rage. And I don’t think that rage is directed at me anymore.

Vlad paces the office with his hands on his hips, his eyes glinting like sharpened steel. Something in Russian—probably a curse word—falls from between his lips. Then he yells for Ivan. His voice is a unique blend of roar and plea.

Meanwhile, my mind reels. This is my fault. If I hadn't gotten close to Sasha... If these people didn’t take photos of us, didn’t get leverage…

"Logan?" Vlad's icy stare pins me in place. "Why exactly are you still here?"

Before I can respond, the door swings open. Ivan strides in, all compact muscle. Vlad barks orders at him in rapid-fire Russian, the foreign words colliding like bullets. I catch a few–Sasha, photos, now. The rest is lost to me.

"We are done," Vlad says, finally shifting his gaze to me.

There’s adrenaline pumping through my veins, ideas forming. "I can help."

A dark laugh escapes Vlad's mouth. "You have done quite enough." His tone slices through me, cutting to the bone.

Ivan nods curtly and strides back out, purpose in every movement. Vlad follows him. Without thinking, I fall into step behind them as they march through the house.

"I will ask you once more, McKenna," Vlad snaps as we turn the corner. "Why are you still here?"

"I'm going to get him back, with or without you."

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