Page 31 of Twisted Vows

The men nodded, and no one protested or suggested a different way. We split into teams, each taking a different target. Rurik and I headed for the heart of the Armenian territory, a seedy bar known for its criminal clientele.

The stench of stale cigarettes and cheap liquor assaulted my nostrils as we entered Ararat Tavern. Patrons turned to stare, their expressions wary and hostile. We moved through the crowd, our presence a silent threat.

I grabbed the nearest man by the collar, slamming him against the wall. “Where is she?”

He sneered, his breath reeking of oghi, an Armenian fruit vodka. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rurik’s fist connected with his jaw, the sickening crunch of bone echoing in the dingy space. The man crumpled to the floor, spitting blood. That didn’t jar his memory, so I punched him, leaving him propped against the wall before turning to the next one. We worked our way through the bar, leaving a trail of broken bodies in our wake. Each lead proved fruitless, and each dead end was more frustrating than the last.

Hours turned into a blur of violence and desperation. We raided hideouts, interrogated associates, and chased down every whisper of information. The city trembled beneath the bratva’s fury, but still, Nika remained elusive.

As dawn approached, we regrouped at one of the safehouses, our bodies battered and spirits weary. The solemnity around us spoke of everyone’s shared disgust with our failure.

I slammed my fist against the wall, the pain a welcome distraction from the ache in my chest. “We’re running out of time.”

Rurik placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm. “We’ll find her, brat. We won’t stop until we do.”

I met his gaze, seeing the same determination reflected in his eyes. We had been through hell together, had faced impossible odds and emerged victorious. This would be no different.

We poured over maps and surveillance footage, searching for any clue we might have missed. The bratva’s network stretched far and wide, and we called in every favor, pulled every string. The sun rose and set, the city awakening and slumbering, but still, we searched. Sleep became a luxury we couldn’t afford. I refused to rest while she was enduring whatever imaginative cruelty Petrosian, or more likely, his second, Levon Terzian was inflicting upon her.

I should have protected her better. I should have listened to my instincts when Valentina suggested she might be leverage and focused on her instead of my duties to the bratva.

Rurik’s presence was a small comfort, a reminder that I wasn’t alone in this fight. The safehouse had become our command center, a hub of activity where information flowed in from every corner of the city. Maps and surveillance footage covered every available surface, a tapestry of clues and leads that seemed to lead nowhere.

I pored over the data, my eyes burning from lack of sleep, searching for any detail that might have slipped through the cracks. Rurik spoke into his phone, getting the latest update from one of our teams.

“Another dead end,” he said as soon as he disconnected the call, frustration evident in his tone.

Slamming my fist against the table, I let out a guttural roar, the sound echoing through the room like a primal cry of anguish. Scattered papers fluttered to the floor but I paid them no mind. They were useless for finding her.

Rurik again gripped my shoulder and I nodded. What choice was there but to keep looking? I refused to leave her to our enemy’s mercy, which was nonexistent.

Chapter Fourteen – Rurik

I strode into Valentina’s domain. Monitors flickered, bathing the dimly lit room in an eerie glow. She swiveled in her chair, her fingers lifting from the keyboard.

“Here for an update?” Her voice cut through the electronic whirring.

I nodded. “Nika’s been missing for too long. Have you found any clues that could lead us to her location?”

Valentina’s eyes narrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line before she said, “Not yet, but I was just about to try something else.” With a few keystrokes, she pulled up a map of the city, overlaid with a web of data streams. “I’ve been monitoring their communications, but they’re using advanced encryption protocols. It won’t be easy to crack.”

I leaned over her shoulder, studying the intricate network. “We don’t have time. Nika’s life is at stake.”

She clicked more keys. “I’ll try to trace their signal origins to see if I can pinpoint any potential locations.”

Silence fell as we worked. Tension crackled in the air, fueled by the urgency of our mission. Every second that ticked by felt like an eternity.

Suddenly, her fingers stilled. “I’ve got something.” She enlarged a section of the map, a cluster of dots pulsing in the heart of the city. “These are the strongest signal sources, consistent with the Armenians’ encryption protocols.”

I studied the locations, committing them to memory. “Cross-reference them with any known Armenian holdings or safehouses.”

Her fingers flew. “Got it. Two of these locations match properties owned by shell companies linked to the Petrosians.” She tapped the screen. “This one has utilities turned on. I’d try it first.”

A grim smile tugged at my lips. “That’s our best lead.” I straightened, muscles coiled with anticipation. “Send the coordinates to Malachi.”

Valentina nodded. “Be careful out there. These guys won’t go down without a fight.”

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