Page 3 of Captive Prize

She shook her head. “You have to get him back. He’s going to be a father. I need him back. I can't do this without him.”

My world tilted. “What did you say?”

“He’s going to be a father,” she whispered again, the truth spilling out through trembling lips. For a heartbeat, the storm seemed to pause around us.

Surprise was not my predominant reaction. Fury was. Not at her, but at the world that dared to rip Pavel away from his wife and unborn child.

“I’m getting him back.” My jaw tightened, a muscle ticking as I bit out a curse. “No matter what it takes.”

I moved around to her side of the car and tore the door completely off its hinges. Making sure to soften my grip, my hands framed her face as I leaned in and tilted her chin, examining the damage. “Are you hurt?” I asked, my voice deceptively quiet. This was as close to gentle as I could manage.

She swallowed hard, clearly overwhelmed. “Pavel?—”

“I know.” My expression turned murderous. “I'm going after him. But first, I need to make sure you're okay. I'm not rescuing him just to have him put a bullet in my head for abandoning you.”

“I'm fine,” she said, struggling to sit up and fumbling with her seat belt. I gave her a curt nod before straightening and drawing a gun from my coat, checking the chamber with the fluid precision of a man who lived by violence.

When our eyes met again, her desperation was reflected in hers. “You're his now,” I reminded her. “That makes you family. And no one fucking touches what belongs to the Ivanovs.”

She stood by the wreckage, one hand clutching torn pieces of Pavel's shirt, the other pressed protectively over her stomach.

I knew exactly what was at stake now. And I knew what that child would face if Pavel didn’t come home. After losing both of my parents, I was raised by my paternal grandmother, a bitter, cold woman who never let me forget I was only half of what she thought I was supposed to be.

Pavel’s child wouldn’t grow up like I did, without a father to provide protection from our cold, violent world. Not on my fucking watch.

I had my mission.

And I would burn down the goddamned world to bring him home.

No child of Pavel’s was growing up fatherless.

Not while I still drew breath.

CHAPTER 2

ROMAN

Iholstered my gun.

Shame pressed down on my shoulders.

I failed him.

My eyes slid closed.

One deep breath.

That was all I allowed myself.

Pavel needed me focused.

On the hunt.

I didn’t even know who took him.

I knew they worked for the Colombians, but I had no idea who was in the helicopter, who that woman was, or where they would take him. But I would find out.

The only way to make this up to him was to get him back.

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