Page 27 of Scarlet Chains
My fist connects with the mirror before I consciously decide to move. The impact sends spider webs of cracks racing across the surface, and the sound of shattering glass fills the bathroom. Shards embed themselves in my knuckles, drawing blood that drips onto the pristine white marble in perfect crimson drops.
The pain feels good. Real. More real than anything I’ve felt since Stanley’s call turned my world into a fucking wasteland.
Blood runs down my fingers as I stand there, breathing hard, staring at my fractured reflection in what’s left of the mirror. Multiple versions of myself stare back— all of them broken, all of them failures. A father who couldn’t save his son. A lover who couldn’t protect his woman. A man who built anempire on violence only to discover that violence can’t solve the problems that matter most.
The blood from my knuckles drips steadily onto the marble, each drop counting down to my complete mental collapse. I need to find her. I need to find Ilona before Stanley does, and I need to do it now.
Striding back to the bedroom, I grab my phone from the nightstand with my uninjured hand, scrolling through contacts until I find Radimir’s name. My younger brother picks up on the fourth ring, his voice thick with sleep.
“Do you have any idea what fucking time it is?” he grumbles.
“We need to find Ilona,” I snap back.
“Jesus,brat. We’re doing the best we can,” he blusters.
“Do better,” I snarl into the phone, pacing back to the broken mirror. “We need to find her. We can’t let Stanley get to her first.”
Silence. Then I hear the rustle of sheets as Radimir sits up, suddenly alert. “We’ve spoken about this, Osip. Do you really think he knows where she is?”
“I don’t know. But we can’t take any chances.”
“Alright,bratok.” His voice sharpens with focus, and I can already hear him moving around, probably firing up his computers. “I’ll do some more digging. But like I told you, she could be anywhere in the world. She doesn’t want to be found.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” I shout. “I need you to fucking find her before Stanley does, you understand?”
“How the fuck am I supposed to do that, Osip?”
“Start with fucking Boston! Where else could she go?”
“Do you think that didn’t occur to me? And how the fuck do you suggest I trace her in Boston?” Frustration bleeds through his voice. “They sold the house after you killed Shiradze, remember? After that, she and her mother went offthe map. They were probably afraid because of what happened to Shiradze. And even if they are in Boston, it’s a city with a population of 4.5 million. And we have no phone signal to trace since she ditched her last phone in Budapest. She could be anywhere.”
“Net!” I snarl because I refuse to accept defeat. “Search the fucking dark web, start asking around, I don’t fucking care. We live in fucking 2025 goddamnit! You’re the IT guy, not me!”
The line goes quiet except for the sound of rapid typing. Radimir’s already working, thank fuck. But it’s not enough. It’s never enough when the woman you long for is being hunted by a psychopath who used to be my business partner.
I end the call and immediately dial Melor. My older brother’s voice is thick with sleep but sharpens the moment he hears my tone.
“Osip? What’s—”
“I need every contact we have,” I interrupt. “Boston, New York, anywhere on the East Coast. Someone must have seen her. Someone knows something.”
“Slow down,brat. Have you had another one of those dreams?” The concern in his voice almost breaks through my armor, but I can’t afford vulnerability right now. Not when Ilona’s life hangs in the balance.
“Morrison’s coming for her,” I say simply, my voice breaking slightly.Blyad.I hate feeling so fucking weak.
There’s a pause, and then, “Alright, wait there. I’m coming over.” The line goes dead before I can reply.
I walk to the windows that overlook the Danube, my bloodied hand leaving smears on the glass as I press my palm against it. The city spreads out below me like a glittering kingdom— lights reflecting off the water, the Chain Bridge spanning the darkness like a promise of connection.
But all I can see is Ilona’s face in my nightmares, her eyes wide with terror as Stanley’s blade finds her throat.
Somewhere out there, she’s running. Hiding. Alone and afraid because of choices I made, enemies I created, blood I spilled in what feels like another lifetime.
I built this empire with violence and cunning, convinced myself that power was the same thing as protection. But power means nothing when the people you care about are beyond your reach. Money means nothing when it can’t buy back trust or time or second chances.
The sedatives finally start to kick in, making my limbs feel heavy and disconnected. But sleep won’t come— not with Stanley’s laughter echoing in my skull, not with Slava’s face haunting my dreams, not with Ilona somewhere in the void beyond my protection.
The irony doesn’t escape me. I am feared from Moscow to Miami. Men cross themselves when they hear my name whispered in dark corners.
