Page 68 of Cruel Russian King
My chest pounded in my chest. I sprinted back to my office, fingers shaking as I hammered the keyboard. I pulled up the trackers of Kira's and Ruslan's phone. The last ping was in the city, near that café Kira loved.
Fucking hell. Were they attacked?
No. If it was an attack, I’d have heard by now.
Unless…unless they managed to take them without raising alarms.
Fucking Christ!
My chest ached and black dots came into view. I inhaled deeply trying to loosen the coil wounded in my chest as I dialed Konstantin. I couldn’t lose Ninel or Kira.
“Boss,” his voice came through steady on the line.
“Mrs. Rykov, Kira, and Ruslan are missing. I need eyes on them now. Call me the second you have something.”
“Yes, boss.”
I ended the call and sank behind the screen, scrubbing through footage, tearing through every feed. The longer they stayed invisible, the more my hands shook.
I began to pace, hoping movement would calm me. It didn’t. Ten minutes later, Konstantin called back.
“Boss, I can’t find them anywhere. They went into the café, but the footage shows they never exited. The last sighting of them was them heading through the kitchen. Then five minutes of footage missing. Cameras were shut off in the alley.”
“Fuck!”
Then it hit me…one place I hadn’t checked. One place where Kira’s and Ruslan’s phones wouldn’t pick up a signal.
“Konstantin, I think I know where they are. I’ll let you know if I find them. Keep looking just in case.”
“Yes, boss.”
I hung up, bolted for the garage, and peeled out of the estate.
The family hideout. A place I’d built for emergencies, years of work to make it impenetrable. It had power, cameras and ac. Complete with stockpiles to feed ten people for two years. On the surface, the estate looked like it was just an old mansion with a dusty shed for cars. The real hideout was buried in the backyard. A bunker.
I drove like a fucking maniac, weaving through traffic like a crack addict chasing a high. Thirty minutes later, I screeched up to the steel gates and punched in the code. The metal groaned as the gates opened. Inside the shed, one of my SUVs sat waiting. My pulse didn’t ease. What if they were forced here?
I jumped out, gun drawn, every nerve strung tight. The bunker’s heavy door was about thirty feet ahead. They’d see me coming on the cameras, so the element surprise was gone. It didn't matter. If anyone had laid a hand on my wife or sister, surprise wouldn’t save them anyway.
Once by the door, I knelt and shoved the key into the latch, yanked it open, locking it behind me. Then barreled down the stairs.
At the bottom, by the steel inner doors, stood Ruslan.
“Are they okay?” I asked, breathlessly.
“Yes, sir.”
I didn’t even care that Ruslan hadn’t cleared this shit with me first.
I nodded. “I’ll send Kira out so you can take her home.”
“Yes, sir.”
I pressed the keypad, punched in the security code, and stepped into the bonkers. The place looked more like a flat. There was a living room, open kitchen, four bedrooms in the back.
Ninel and Kira were sitting together, mid-conversation. Their chatter died instantly, eyes going wide, fear spiking the air.
Kira jumped to her feet. “Artyom, I just wanted Ninel to…”
