Page 74 of Thorns of Love
TWENTY-SIX
KONSTANTIN
My gaze slid back to the monitor, reflecting Tatiana’s movement.
Two days! Two fucking days and it felt like two goddamn years.
I attempted to take my Bugatti out to get to the city. Fucking piece of junk! The damn thing barely made it half a mile before it slid out of control. It crashed against the fountain and now sat there with the hood open and the whole driver side smashed.
Then, a snow storm swept through. There was no way of getting out. My helicopter was unable to make it through the storm. Tatiana ensured my plane was in South Africa. Goddamn end of the world.
And my fucking vehicles were useless.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I kept watching the screen, as the little blue dot kept pacing. I was able to narrow down her and Isla’s location to the hotel. I could call in a favor to Marchetti, but I didn’t trust him. Not with Tatiana and not with my little sister.
Calling the Nikolaev lunatics was out of the question too. Sasha would start a war in the underworld.
Goddamn it!
All the men I trusted the most were stuck in this fucking house with me. I’d been racking my brain trying to figure out what Tatiana’s angle was. Maybe she remembered the accident and kidnapped Isla to get back at me? Or maybe Tatiana told her what I had done to Isla’s mother and I had lost both of them.
Fuckery all the way around.
I sent messages to Isla. No response, although she read them. I traced down any calls and texts she might have made. She was silent, non-responsive to any messages. Even from her best friends.
Until she reached out to Marchetti.
Except, who reached out to him - Tatiana or Isla? And why didn’t that fucker alert me right away?
It made me want to burn his empire to the ground. Fuck it, I didn’t even care if I went down with him.
But Tatiana and Isla - I couldn’t risk them falling too.
I hacked into the public surveillance. I watched Tatiana and my sister act like tourists in Paris, both carefree like they were on vacation.
I slammed my fist against the table.
A red mist covered my vision. I wanted to protect her. Shield her from Adrian’s shit. Instead of trusting me, Tatiana went right into the fire in her blind devotion to that fucker. Adrian.
If I could kill him again, I would. No hesitation.
I should have done that the moment he took Tatiana from me.
The overstimulation of my mind made me blind. It made it hard to think. I knew my control was slipping. My obsession with Tatiana made me blind. Now that I evaluated every single word and look since I came back, I was fucking positive she remembered the accident.
Leaving the table with the surveillance set up, I strode to the window, releasing a heavy breath as I stared at the vast white landscape.
“At least they’re safe,” Boris remarked, trying to be helpful.He wasn’t.
I tapped my finger against my thigh. His observation didn’t help. The need to protect and punish pulsed through my veins. When I get my hands on my wife, I’d spank her and then fuck her so hard, she’d not be able to walk for fucking months.
“Call Yan, Tatiana’s bodyguard,” I instructed him. “Have them fly to Paris tonight and watch over them. One or both, I don’t give a shit, as long as someone’s watching them.”
Boris’ brows bunched. “That’s actually a good idea.”
I should have thought of that the moment I realized we were stuck in Russia. “Remind me to never come back to Russia in the winter,” I remarked dryly.
