Page 72 of The Russian's Kidnapped Bride
Picking up on this, Roman puts a firm hand on my shoulder to keep me grounded. “Nik’s scrubbing the surveillance now…we’ll find out what happened.”
I know he’s right, but I also know it’s damn impossible to be optimistic right now. Not while Lily’s safety is in the balance.
I don’t know where she is, or if someone has her. And if they do, I have the sinking feeling I know exactly who’s responsible.
“I found something,” Nikolai mumbles, moving in with the tablet in his grasp. He holds it out, giving me a good view of it. “Here…Lily steps into the frame and heads into the washroom.”
My brows furrow as I look closely, seeing her figure move into the shot before disappearing into the other room. A moment later, she comes back out and pauses. The others come into frame next, and my heart drops.
We all go silent while the feed continues, showing as they crowd around her, making my throat close up.
Then, she’s rendered unconscious, and I’m ready to be sick at the sight of her body going limp.
At them hauling her out.
Immediately, I’m seeing red, and someone has their hands on me to stop me from losing it.
As badly as I want to rage, I keep it in and mutter, “Back it up a few seconds.”
Nikolai nods and does exactly that, rolling it back to the moment the men come into frame.
“Pause it.”
The feed stops, landing on the man who stopped her from retreating into the washroom. Just barely, I catch a few pixels of something on his hand—a tattoo right on the junction between his thumb and forefinger. My jaw tightens.
“Fucking Maxim…”
Their eyes are on me immediately, and Sergey furrows his brows. “How do you know that’s him?”
“Because I know that tattoo…I put the damn cuffs on him the last time,” I utter, feeling as every nerve in my body comes tolife, prepared to do everything in my power to get Lily back. “He took her…he really tried it…”
“He was never supposed to have this much manpower…but now he’s feeling brave enough to handle this shit himself,” Roman says, arms folded tightly over his chest. “Where the hell is he getting these people?”
“I don’t care,” I mumble, finding it hard to look at any of them then. Not with the footage repeating in my head. “I want him dead.”
Of course, nobody argues.
“I’m calling our units out now,” Roman says, not missing a beat, while he pulls out his phone and glances at Nikolai. “Go through more cameras and see if you can find a plate. We need to know where the hell they took her.”
Nik nods and gets to it while Roman makes his calls, but I don’t wait. I can’t.
I’m already whirling around and heading down the alleyway when I hear Ivan and Sergey’s steps following.
“We’re coming with,” Sergey says, giving me a supportive look without needing to say anything else.
“We’ll get a head start,” Ivan adds.
I can hardly manage a nod at the moment—not while it feels like someone is gripping my heart and squeezing it as tightly as possible.
I don’t say it, but I appreciate their company.
Hurrying to the underground parking, I don’t wait for the valet. Instead, I rush to the car while the other two file in after me.
Even if I try to keep it in, my pulse is roaring in my ears, and I can’t focus on anything but Lily.
She was taken by Maxim. Goddamn Nikolaev.
I let it happen. I allowed myself to be distracted, and now she’s gone.
