Page 58 of The Bratva's Hunted Bride
I tap the side of my glass, and the barman pours another shot of vodka into it, then tosses three fresh ice blocks in as well. I’ve been sipping at the same drink for two hours, not wanting to get drunk, but trying to kill time.
Again, I glance at my watch. Eleven fifteen.Where is she?
Eleven thirty.
Eleven forty-eight.
Midnight.
I can’t take this.
Maybe she’s waiting downstairs in the lobby?
I told the reception desk to notify me if anyone asks for me, and to keep an eye out for a beautiful girl with long blondehair… but maybe they didn’t notice her arriving, and she’s waiting down there.
I lift my glass and drain the liquid from it. It burns down my throat. Standing, I set the glass down on the bar and hurry through the gold-framed doors toward the elevators.
My heart is racing as the mirrored box carries me down to the lobby. Illuminated numbers count down the floors on a digital panel.
I burst through the doors as soon as they slide open, but I can instantly see that the lobby is empty, except for one older man sitting on a yellow velvet sofa with his travel bag at his feet.
Talia isn’t here.
It’s past midnight, and she isn’t here.
Inside, deep in my chest, a pain begins to spread. Adrenalin, or anger, it’s hard to know the difference, starts shaking through me.
The walls feel too close to me. Everything is closing in.
I need air.
My feet march toward the rotating doors, pushing against them. I leave the Swan Inn and stand outside in the cool night air, taking heavy, deep breaths, fighting the rage building inside me.
I pull my phone from my pocket and dial the men I had watching over her bedroom window. Spies, placed to make sure that if she…when she snuck out, her brothers didn’t follow.
The phone rings once before he answers.
“Mackavay,” I snap. “What happened?”
“The brothers didn’t follow, sir. They haven’t noticed that she left. The house is quiet. We’ve been camped around the property, watching.”
“What?” I stammer, confused. “Did she just get out?” I look at my watch again. It would take her no more than ten minutes to get here.
“Uh, no, sir. She came past us about two hours ago.”
“Two hours?” I shout, shocked.
“Yes, sir…” his voice is strained with stress. “Is she not with you?”
“No.”
“Track her phone immediately. Now!” I snarl, hanging up and sprinting toward my car. Someone else was watching her. Some took her. There’s no other explanation.
I’m driving aimlessly, peering into every dark space along the road between the Swan Inn and her brother’s home. It’s pointless, but I need to do something.
Within five minutes, Mackavay reports back with her last known location. It’s along the side of a highway. Whoever took her tossed her phone before they reached their final destination. But the highway, the route they took, it’s a dead giveaway.
There are only two Bratva families that live on that side of the city. And only one of them is a dedicated rival of the Popovs.
