Page 59 of Dark Bratva Christmas
“Man, they’re all celebrating—”
“And because of your arms deal with my father-in-law, I no longer have my wife and unborn child to celebrate with,” I cut in, monotone and cruel. “You’ll give me the backup, or I’ll take your fucking kingdom by force.”
Mauricio eyes the pistol in my hand. “You know what,” he pauses, pressing his lips together. “I’ll do you one better. You help me get rid of Boris Petrov, and you have my protection while you rebuild your crew.”
I take a deep breath, and then lower my gun. “Deal. Let’s go.”
Mauricio shakes my hand. “He’ll never see us coming.”
I sure as hell hope so.
***
“Ishchite vezde(Search everywhere). Ne ostavlyayte nichego bez vnimaniya(Leave nothing unturned),” I demand as we reach the Petrov estate.
There’s just one fucking problem.
I already know it’s empty.
But we all spread out, looking through every room for clues as to where Boris might have run off. Boris has been in the business for a long time, and he has properties all over the country. He could have fucking flown to Panama by now.
Still, I'm on a warpath as I storm through every room, ripping through drawers, reading every document I find.
My movements are calculated and calm, but there’s an urgency to them that pushes my aching body far beyond its limits, considering everything it’s been through today.
I need to find her. I need to findthem.My wife and my baby.
I rip desk drawers open, scattering the papers everywhere. There has to be something here that indicates where he went. Men as old-school as Boris don’t usually leave a paper trail, but I'm hoping for any minor oversight.
Anything could lead me to them.
Searching his office, I find records of some of the warehouses he owns in Red Hook as well as various other places nearby. These would be quick places to hide out if he were in a rush, but he knows I would look there.
And he’s bound to know I’m still alive.
I find other property listings that appear to be more warehouses in port towns where he ships goods. I highly doubt he has Catarina holed up in one of those.
While searching in his desk, I see a stray photograph, like it once belonged in a picture frame but had been taken out at a certain point. It's a photo of a much younger Boris standing in front of a snow-covered cabin with a version of Catarina that looks like she's just been shrunk down.
Seeing her wide smile in the photo makes my heart ache. She can't be more than ten years old. The same blue eyes, honey-blonde hair, and smile. I grip the photo, wondering if this is what our child might look like.
The thought of it makes my blood run cold.Our child. Catarina is out there somewhere, afraid and alone, our child at risk wherever she is.
I won't let anything happen to them.I’ll burn every blade of grass between me and her to the ground if I have to.
I grab the photo and walk out of the office, searching for Nikolai. “You’re tech savvy. Do you think you can find where this cabin is?”
“It might take some time, but I'll try,” he says, grabbing the photo and setting off without waiting for another word.
None of the properties I saw in his ledgers gave any indication that they were a cabin or vacation home of sorts. They were all warehouses and investment properties. I look again, just to be sure, and I start rifling through more of his office.
I find a couple of other photos with the cabin, but they provide no more information.
Eventually, at the bottom of a filing cabinet, I find a business card that looks promising. It's for a cleaning and upkeep company in the Adirondacks. It's about four hours away from here, and I could see that being a suitable place for a snow-covered cabin.
Please let this work.
I dial the number. It's Christmas Eve, and I know there's a strong chance this business isn't open. But it’s worth a shot.
