I let out a bark of laughter, then look at the screen again. There’s one Albanian fucker wearing a hoodie, and we can’t get a good look at his face.
“Anything on the other guy?” I ask as I look at the facial recognition software scanning his face through the system.
“No.”
A knock at the door has me straightening up, and when I open it, the receptionist from the lobby smiles politely at me. “The envelope, Sir.”
“Thanks.” I take it from her and shut the door. I tear the side open and frown when there are no papers. I tip it over, and something shiny falls from it, bouncing on the floor.
The blood in my veins turns to ice, and a hard tremor rocks the ground beneath my feet.
No.
As if in a trance, I crouch down and pick up the wedding ring.
“What’s that?” Viktor asks. I hear his seat squeak as he gets up. “Luca?”
Darting up, I yank the door open and call out, “Stacy!”
The receptionist startles, quickly turning back. “Sir?”
“Who gave you the envelope?”
“A courier guy.”
I swing to Viktor. “Pull up the security footage for the lobby?”
He gets to work, muttering, “Care to fill me in on why I’m doing this?”
My stomach bottoms out, and my heart shrivels to the size of a fucking pea.
God, no.
There’s a sharp pain in my heart as the raw fear knocks me back a step.
Mariya.
Lowering my eyes to the ring in my palm, my voice is hoarse as I say, “This is Mariya’s wedding ring. It was delivered to us.”
“What?” Viktor slowly gets up, shock tightening his features.
I pull my phone out and dial her number. When it goes to voicemail, the air wooshes from my lungs. “Fuck!”
Not this. Anything but this.
I try Lev and Ivan’s numbers, but the same thing happens.
“Motherfucking fuck,” I shout, anger starting to mix with the panic flaying my chest raw.
Viktor sits down and starts to type as if his very life depends on it. Seconds later, he says, “Tijuana. She’s in fucking Mexico.”
The relief that hits me in the gut is drowned out by the shock that she’s already been taken across the border.
“You have a tracking device on her?” I ask. “Please tell me it’s not something she can lose.”
“It’s embedded beneath her skin.” Viktor taps his shoulder. “Covered by a tattoo.”
Thank fucking Christ.
“Let’s go,” I snap, rage boiling in my veins.
I rush out of the office, and I’m just about to press dial on Uncle Alexei’s number when Viktor says, “Don’t do that. This is not something you tell him over the phone.”
“If I don’t let him know, I’m good as dead.”
“We’re heading to the mansion. We tell him face to face and get him and my dad to help. We’re dealing with this as a family.”
We hurry out of the building and climb into the G-Wagon. I floor the gas, not giving a single fuck about traffic laws.
When we enter the high-class neighborhood the mansion is in, we’re stopped because the road’s been closed due to an accident. I’m just about to put the vehicle in reverse when I recognize the SUV.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” I throw the door open and jog closer.
Three bodies are covered, and the SUV is on its roof.
“You can’t enter. It’s a crime scene,” a police officer shouts. I ignore the man and lift the first cover, which exposes a dead Albanian. The next is Lev and then Ivan.
Viktor talks to the police officers, and I have no idea what he tells them, but they leave me alone.
I look at the SUV, and my eyes lock on something that looks like chicken scratch.
Alive.
“Mariya,” I groan, almost dropping to my knees. Hurrying to Viktor, I say, “She’s alive. Let’s move.”
“Dashcam,” he says, jogging the SUV and pulling the memory card from it.
We take another road to the mansion and stop in front of it with screeching tires.
Viktor’s father yanks the door open, takes one look at us, then shouts, “Alexei get your ass out here. Something happened.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Uncle Alexei snaps as he appears in the doorway. His eyes lock on my face, then he takes a step back. “Don’t you dare tell me my baby girl’s…” His voice disappears, and he turns his back to us, sucking in deep breaths of air.
“Mariya’s been taken,” I say, my voice not hiding the worry. “On her way to you, they were rammed off the road. It’s a couple of blocks from here.”
“I have the dashcam’s memory card,” Viktor says as he walks into the house.
“I want to see what happened to my daughter and who the fuck dared touch her,” Uncle Alexei growls as we all follow Viktor.
My heart is still thundering in my chest, my mouth dry from the shock. It feels like I’ve been electrocuted, my mind buzzing with energy, but I can’t focus long enough for it all to make sense.