Page 90 of Enforcer Daddy
Thank god. Last thing I needed was a fire in my damn building.
I left the car diagonal across a hydrant, badge on the dash that would keep it from being towed. My eyes were already scanning, cataloging faces in the crowd of evacuated residents. The couple from 4C in their matching bathrobes. Mrs. Anderson from down the hall with her cat carrier. Everyone accounted for except the only two that mattered.
No flash of distinctive eyes. No small gray puppy. No Eva.
The cold that started in my chest spread outward like ice forming on a lake, but I kept moving, kept searching. She could be in the lobby. Could be around the corner. Could be anywhere except where my brain was already suggesting she might be—gone, taken, exploited in that narrow window where I'd left her vulnerable.
"Mr. Volkov." Anton materialized at my elbow, and his face told me everything before he opened his mouth. Professional composure cracking at the edges, that particular distress of security who'd lost their principal. "She went out through the service exit with the pet evacuation group, but we can't find her now."
The words hit like physical blows. Service exit. Pet group. Can't find her.
"When?" My voice came out steady, which was its own kind of lie.
"Seventeen minutes ago. Mikhail and I were helping with the elderly residents at the main exit. The fire marshal directed people with pets to use the service exit, said it was less crowded. She signaled she was going that way with Bear. We thought—I thought I recognized the marshal—" He stopped, professionalism warring with self-recrimination. "We should have stayed with her."
Seventeen minutes. In seventeen minutes, she could be in Jersey. Connecticut. Dumped in the Hudson. My hand found my phone, muscle memory dialing her number while my brain ran calculations I didn't want to complete.
Straight to voicemail. Her voice on the recording, laughing about probably being in the shower, call back soon. The encrypted phone Ivan had given her—no response. Dead air where there should be connection.
Mikhail approached with a tablet, already pulling up security footage. His face carried the same professional devastationas Anton's, fingers flying across the screen to find the right timestamp. "Here," he said, turning the tablet toward me. "11:42 AM."
The image was clear despite the garage's shitty lighting. Eva following someone in firefighter gear, Bear's leash in her hand, heading toward the loading bay. The firefighter's face wasn't visible, helmet and angle conspiring to hide features.
"Run facial recognition on every firefighter. Cross-reference with—"
"Already running," Mikhail said. "But the angle's bad, and if they were smart—"
They were smart. This wasn't random. This was planned, orchestrated, timed for when I'd be gone.
I moved toward the parking garage, residents still filtering out in confused groups. An older man with a bulldog was complaining to another firefighter about the inconvenience, and I grabbed his arm harder than necessary.
"The woman with the puppy. Different colored eyes. You saw her?"
He blinked at my tone, the bulldog growling low at my aggressive stance. "Yeah, yeah, I saw her. We all went through the service exit together. She got in one of those city vans."
"What van?" The words came out sharp enough to cut.
"Facilities Management. You know, the white ones with the orange lights? She was trying to calm her dog—poor thing was terrified of the sirens. The driver said they were shuttling residents to the assembly point, but I've lived here thirty years and walked my ass out like always."
White van. Facilities Management. The kind that blended into city traffic like camouflage, invisible and official and perfect for making someone disappear.
"How long ago?"
"I don't know, ten minutes? Maybe twelve? The dog was really worked up, and she—"
This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
I was already moving, leaving him mid-sentence, phone to my ear as I called Ivan. Each ring felt like an eternity before his emotionless voice answered.
"What's wrong?"
"They have her." The words came out deadly calm despite the panic clawing at my insides. "The Morozovs staged a false fire alarm and took Eva."
Silence on the other end, brief but telling. Ivan processing, calculating, already working the problem.
"How long?"
"Best guess, twelve minutes. White Facilities Management van, probably fake plates. She had Bear with her."
