Page 83 of Bratva Prisoner
“No,” I counter, surprising everyone in the room. “We do this smart, not just hard. If Troy feels cornered, he’ll hurt her out of spite.”
“Then what do you suggest?” Dmitri asks.
“Reconnaissance first. We locate her, assess the situation, then extract her with minimal risk.”
“That could take days,” Akim protests. “Every hour she’s with him increases the danger.”
“And going in blind could get her killed,” I snap back. “We do this right, or we don’t do it at all.”
The argument that follows tests every bond of brotherhood we’ve built over the years. Aleksei wants to use overwhelming force. Grigor advocates for negotiation. Dmitri considers involving law enforcement even more than we have. Everyone has an opinion about the best way to save the woman I love, but none of them understands what I do about Alyssa’s psychology.
She won’t just be sitting somewhere waiting to be rescued. She’ll be planning, scheming, and looking for ways to turn the situation to her advantage.
“You realize she might not want to be rescued,” Nikolai points out. “If she went willingly to protect Diane, she might refuse to come back if it puts more people at risk.”
“Then we eliminate the risk,” I respond. “We end Troy permanently so he can never threaten anyone again.”
Aleksei shakes his head. “Maksim, personal feelings can’t drive tactical decisions. We need to be smart about this.”
“My personal feelings are what’s going to motivate me to get her back safely. Everything else is just logistics.”
We spend the rest of the day gathering intelligence, calling in favors, and tracking down anyone who might know where Troy would take a high-value prisoner. The hours crawl by with agonizing slowness while I imagine all the ways he might be manipulating her, all the psychological games he’s probably playing.
Every contact we reach provides another piece of the puzzle. The Serpents have been more active lately, moving operations around the city like they’re preparing for something big. Money has been flowing through their accounts in unusual patterns. Personnel have been relocated to new positions without clear explanations.
“They’re planning something,” Dmitri muses. “This isn’t just about grabbing Alyssa. They’re using her as a distraction while they set up some larger operation.”
“Or they’re trying to draw us into a trap,” Grigor counters. “Use our concern for her to lure us into vulnerable positions.”
“Either way, we need to find her tonight,” I declare. “Every minute she spends with that bastard is too long. That ends tonight.”
By evening, we have narrowed the possibilities to four locations, all within a three-mile radius. My brothers coordinate assignments while I clean my weapons and prepare for whatever we might find tomorrow.
“We start at dawn,” I announce as the family meeting winds down. “Rotating surveillance on all four sites until we get eyes on the target.”
“And then?” Nikolai asks.
“Then we bring her home.”
Sleep proves impossible. I lie in bed staring at the ceiling, imagining all the ways Troy might be hurting her, all the manipulation tactics he’s probably using. The memory of her face during that phone call in the garden haunts me—the fear in her voice, the way she kept looking over her shoulder like she expected an attack at any moment.
Tomorrow, I’ll get her back. Tomorrow, I’ll prove that I can be the man she needs instead of another source of control in her life. Tomorrow, I’ll show her that trusting me was the right choice, even when I’ve given her every reason to doubt it.
Dawn brings fog that clings to the harbor like smoke, providing perfect cover for our surveillance operation. I take the first position at warehouse complex C, a massive facility that matches Diane’s description of her prison. Grigor and Dmitri station themselves at two other locations while Aleksei coordinates from a mobile command center.
The waiting becomes torture. Every minute that passes without contact feels like an eternity. My earpiece crackles with periodic updates from my brothers—negative sightings, false alarms, and the steady drumbeat of failure that makes my nerves feel like exposed wires.
Two hours into the surveillance, Akim’s voice crackles through my earpiece with news that makes my entire body tense up.
“Got eyes on the target at location D. But Maksim… you’re not going to like what I’m seeing.”
“Report.”
“She’s not restrained. Not imprisoned. She’s walking around freely, and she… she looks happy.”
“What do you mean, happy?”
“I mean, she’s laughing with Troy, holding his hand, acting like there’s nowhere in the world she’d rather be. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were on a romantic getaway.”
