Page 34 of Vendetta Vows

My jaw clenches so tight I feel my teeth might crack. "Mikhail is dead too."

For a moment, she's silent. Then, she asks, her voice tremoring slightly. "How?"

"An accident at the studio is what they've told me so far." The words burn my throat. "Where are the girls?"

"At school, of course." She says it like I'm stupid for asking. "St. Catherine's?—"

"Get them. Now." My voice drops dangerously low.

"I can't just?—"

"Get your daughters and bring them to the mansion." Every muscle in my body tenses. "This isn't a fucking request, Tamara. Until we know what the fuck is going on, they're in danger."

"You can't just tell me what to do, Ruslan." She attempts a silky tone that makes my stomach turn. "I'm not one of your?—"

"ETO MOI PRIKAZ!" I roar into the phone.

Tamara goes silent at those words. Words that only a pakhan can say. An order whose defiance could mean death.

"I'll get them now, Ruslan Vitalyevich, " she whispers. "I meant no offense."

I hang up without another word, and toss my phone onto the passenger seat. The weight of what I've just said settles on my shoulders.

Those three words have changed everything, even if I didn't mean for them to.

And now that they've been said, there's no going back now.

* * *

I blastthrough the studio doors like a winter storm. The hushed whispers and shocked faces tell me they know who I am, who I've always been beneath the veneer of a Hollywood producer.

Right now, I don't give a fuck what they see.

Let them witness a Dragunov in anger and grief.

"Where is he?" My voice echoes across the soundstage.

A trembling PA points toward a cordoned-off area where police and paramedics stand. I stride over, ignoring their attempts to stop me.

"I want everyone who touched a prop weapon today in front of me. Now." My voice doesn't rise, but it carries the weight of command that's bred into my bones.

The weapons master approaches. He's a balding man with nervous eyes who's worked with me on three previous productions.

"Mr. Dragunov, I don't understand what happened." His hands shake. "I checked everything myself this morning. All the blanks, all the guns?—"

"Who else handled the weapons other than you?" I cut him off.

He swallows hard. "Props department delivered them to set. Aurora Castellanos was the only other person to touch them."

My heart stutters at her name.

"Aurora?" I repeat, trying to keep my voice neutral. "Where is she now?"

The weapons master glances around. "I... I don't know. She was here when it happened, but?—"

I scan the set again, more carefully this time. No sign of her anywhere.

"Find her." My voice drops to a deadly whisper.

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