Page 37 of The Bratva King's Auctioned Bride

After an interminable amount of time, with my driver having to eventually find a place to park, I grew worried. Where were Mila and Vilen? I had expected it to take some time, but not this long. I called Vilen, but there was no answer. Could they have been pulled for questioning, perhaps in a holding room right now? I had faith in the brilliant young man who made all my forged documents, but I didn’t like not having eyes on my wife. Way too much time had passed.

No longer giving a shit about the police, I went back into the airport to look for them, calling my driver to get out and start looking as well. The baggage claim area was packed, and I combed through every inch, moving on to the area where people lined up for taxis, angrily calling Vilen again.

He didn’t answer, and there was no trace of them.

My wife and the guard were just gone.

Chapter 26 - Mila

Before I knew it, I was back in Moscow again, my unformed and ill-thought-out plan to disappear at the airport in Rome foiled before I ever got a chance. Being in Moscow wasn’t the perfect scenario, or so I thought, until Arkadi had to get crammed into a trunk to keep from being arrested. I was almost on my own at last.

It had been silly to panic before. This was the absolute best place he could have taken me. I still had to ditch the guard somehow, but after resting up on the plane, I had a renewed spirit, ready to get my freedom back. All I had to do was get away and out of sight. One phone call and I’d have a swarm of people coming to my rescue. I might even be on a plane back to LA by tonight.

Vilen pulled me into the line, his jaw set and his brow furrowed as he searched the crowd for possible dangers. As far as guards went, he was pretty cool, and I didn’t actually want him to get hurt. Not too much, anyway. Whatever it took to get away. But I thought I could manage it without resorting to violence.

As we waited in the never-ending line, I wrapped my arms around my midsection and made a sour face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked instantly.

“Cramps,” I said, leaning over further. Not quite going full out with my performance yet, but laying the groundwork for when we were on the other side.

He grumbled, not buying it yet, but I was just getting warmed up. I’d gotten out of my fair share of gym classes with this same act many times before. After we had been waiting and slowly inching forward for about twenty minutes, two airportofficers tapped us both on the shoulder, asking us to step out of line. The fake cramps became very real as they led us into a separate interview room.

“Don’t worry,” Vilen said under his breath as he maintained a stony mask of indifference. “Just stay quiet. Your passport will pass inspection, and we’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Oh, I wasn’t worried about that at all. I was revving with adrenaline once I realized we were going to be questioned. I was ready to ask for help at the first sign that the border patrol agent interviewing us wasn’t friendly to Arkadi’s organization. If the stars really aligned for me, it might be someone who was on my own family’s payroll.

It was going to be a huge risk to go against the story Vilen was going to put out there. If it didn’t pay off, I could be in worse trouble than I was now, having to face Arkadi’s wrath. He had seen right through my escape plan in Rome and had easily nipped it in the bud before I could get a foot away from him.

The two guards who escorted us motioned for us to go into a small room by ourselves, not following us in. There was another door on the opposite side of it, and I stealthily moved in that direction. Swift as a bullet, Vilen’s hand clamped around my wrist, and my hopes sank.

A click sounded as soon as the door shut behind us. Keeping hold of my arm, Vilen whirled around, twisting the doorknob to find it was locked and immovable.

“That’s not normal,” he said. “Not for a simple interview.”

He looked furious and ready to fight, and as the door opposite us opened, it was easy to see the three huge men who entered weren’t friends of the Mikhailov organization. They didn’t seem interested in anything I could offer them, either, but were intent on what they had to do. No, not normal at all.

They didn’t allow either of us to utter a word, instantly swarming Vilen. He put up a surprisingly strong fight, and for once, I was rooting for him instead of plotting against him as I tried to scurry out through the door they came in. It must have locked automatically, or someone was behind it, waiting for the outcome, because the handle didn’t budge.

Turning back to the fight, I watched Vilen get three hard blows to the head that had him crumbling to the ground. The three men didn’t let up, continuing to pummel him until he was out cold, then they turned to me.

“No, no, no,” I said, backing into the corner. “Listen to me first.”

As I suspected, they had no interest in anything I had to say. One grabbed my arms and forced them behind my back. Another slapped a dark cloth bag over my head.

Damn it, not again.

Chapter 27 - Arkadi

I met up with the driver, who hadn’t seen the guard or Mila anywhere either. She was gone without a trace, not even a report of her going through customs, according to my intel, who kept track of things like that. How could she disappear when she was with one of my most trusted guards and the whole place was crawling with cops?

Oh, right. Cops. It was highly possible this could have been a setup from the start, but there were too many people who could have been behind it to immediately call for someone’s head on a platter. The dirty cops themselves could have nabbed her, hoping to reel me in for something and hopefully make the charges stick this time. Or was someone following us all the way from Rome? It wasn’t beyond reason that someone had traced us there, especially with my brother only just arriving.

I didn’t think Kolya was directly responsible; he knew better than to actively cross me like that, but he could have opened his mouth to the wrong person.

Either way, I had no idea where Mila was or who she was with at the moment. Or even if she was okay. I had to push that thought aside to keep from tearing an international airport to shreds. Hanging around there, making myself susceptible to getting picked up by the roaming bands of security officers, wasn’t going to help her.

Calling the driver, who was doing another search in an area that it wasn’t too smart for me to go due to all the police hanging around, I told him we were ending the search. For now.

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