Page 68 of Rafi

“And he’s on his way here,” Leo adds, leaning back in his chair with a triumphant grin.

My stomach clenches. “Here? Tayana’s estranged from her father. Why would he come now?”

Leo’s grin fades, replaced by a more serious expression. “Because Anton Aslinov hates one thing more than the thought of losing his daughter.”

Kanyan speaks before Leo can elaborate, his tone quiet but resolute, as though the answer has already clicked into place. “The thought of losing her to anyone else.”

The room goes deathly silent. The realization washes over us like ice water. Igor isn’t just running from us—he’s running from Teskin. Because Tayana has been the target all along. Igor took her before Teskin could get to her.

Brando exhales sharply, breaking the silence. “So what’s the move? Do we hit the airstrip or wait for Anton to do our job for us?”

“We can’t wait,” I say firmly. My voice surprises even me with its intensity. “We don’t know what Anton’s timeline looks like, and I’m not risking Tayana’s life in the hope that he’ll get to her before something happens.”

Leo nods, already typing furiously. “I’ll pull up the layout of the airstrip and surrounding areas. You’ll need a strategy.”

My mind is already racing ahead, piecing together the steps we’ll need to take. “And contact the bed-and-breakfast. See if anyone matching Igor’s description has checked in.”

Leo’s screen lights up with a detailed map of the airstrip. “I’ll have everything ready in five,” he says.

As the team mobilizes, a single thought loops endlessly in my mind: Tayana is out there, trapped in the hands of a madman. With another madman on the loose. And a third one about to join the party.

39

TAYANA

“We have to get out of here!” I hiss, gripping Maxine’s wrist tightly. My voice cuts through the tense silence, sharp and urgent. Maxine flinches but doesn’t move, her wide eyes darting to the door and back to me. I can’t let myself think about how thin she looks or the shadows smudged under her eyes like bruises. The questions burn in the back of my mind—where has she been, how did she fall into Igor’s clutches—but now isn’t the time.

“Come on, Maxine. We don’t have time for this,” I say, pulling her gently but insistently toward the door. My pulse thunders in my ears as the weight of every second presses against me. Igor might be gone for now, but that doesn’t mean we’re safe.

Maxine resists, her feet rooted to the floor. Her head shakes in small, jerky motions, and her lips part to speak, but the words seem to die before they form. She looks at me with a desperation that makes my chest ache, but still, she doesn’t move.

“What is wrong with you?” I snap, my patience fraying. “Do you really want to be under his grubby thumb for the rest of yourlife?” My voice comes out harsher than it should, but fear makes me reckless.

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she stares at me with a blank look that makes my stomach twist. Then, slowly, almost robotically, she raises her hands and begins to lift the hem of her shirt. Confusion flashes through me, quickly followed by a sickening sense of dread.

“Maxine?” My voice cracks as I speak her name, but she doesn’t stop. Inch by inch, her shirt reveals pale skin until I see it—a wide black belt strapped snugly around her waist, its glossy surface broken only by a small, ominous device with blinking red lights.

“Mother of mercy,” I breathe, stumbling back a step. The room spins around me, and my stomach lurches as realization crashes over me. Igor doesn’t need to guard us. He doesn’t need chains or locked doors. Maxine is his leverage and his threat. The bomb around her waist says so.

“He’ll kill me if I try to leave,” Maxine whispers, her voice barely audible. She drops her shirt, her arms wrapping protectively around her torso as if to shield herself from the truth. “I don’t think I’m ready to die, yet. I need to get home to my sisters.”

The truth of her sisters wraps around me like a noose. She said her sisters. Which means she doesn’t know about Sophia. She doesn’t know about her twin sister and how she died at the hands of a maniac who shot her up with too many drugs. If she knew, she might be willing to risk escape; she mightwishfor death knowing that she’s lost her other half.

I shake my head vehemently, my mind racing. “We’ll figure this out,” I tell her. “There has to be a way to disarm it, to get it off.” But even as I speak, I feel the weight of hopelessness creeping in. Igor’s cruelty is precise, his plans meticulous. He wouldn’t have left a weakness for us to exploit.

“It’s wired to a trigger,” Maxine says, her voice hollow. “He has the control. If we try anything, he can activate it from wherever he is.” Her gaze drops to the floor, her shoulders sagging under the burden of her words. “I… I can’t risk it. I don’t want to die, but I don’t want you to die, either.”

Anger and fear tangle in my chest, each feeding off the other. “We’re getting out of here, Maxine. Together.”

“And if we don’t?” she whispers, her voice cracking. Her gaze locks with mine, and in that instant, I see the raw, unfiltered terror hiding behind her eyes. It’s the kind of fear that tells a story without words, and my chest tightens at the weight of it. Whatever Maxine has endured, it’s far worse than I can imagine.

Images try to force their way into my mind—scenes of the horrors I know exist in these human trafficking rings. I’ve witnessed their aftermath firsthand, the broken lives left in their wake. People treated like objects, passed from one set of greedy hands to another, as if they’re nothing more than commodities. Plates of food being shared and discarded. Torture, degradation, inhumanity—all of it designed to strip them of hope, of their humanity. I shove the thoughts away, knowing that while I can block them out, Maxine has no such escape.

And yet, despite everything, there’s something in her that most survivors don’t have. It’s faint, but it’s there—a resilience, a stubborn defiance against the odds that should have crushed her long ago. It’s that spark that’s kept her alive this long, and I’ll be damned if I let it go out now.

“You’ve made it this far,” I say, my voice firm but quiet, an anchor in the storm. “And I swear to you, Maxine, I’m going to get you out of this. No matter what it takes.”

I swallow hard, forcing myself to stay calm. “I won’t let him hurt you. Do you hear me?” My voice softens, but my grip on her arm remains firm. “You’re not alone in this. We’ll find a way.”

---