Chapter 3: Filthy Lies: Chapter 3

Blood drips from my knuckles. I barely feel it.

The man zip-tied to the chair in front of me used to have a name. I think it was Leonid or Lev or something similarly forgettable. He was my father’s driver for the past three years.

Now, he’s just a means to an end.

His face is unrecognizable—swollen, purple, streaming crimson from a split lip and broken nose. One eye is sealed shut. The other stares at me with naked terror.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” I say icily. “Where did they take my wife?”

He spits blood onto the concrete floor of the warehouse basement. “I don’t know.”

I nod to Dimitri, who steps forward with a pair of pliers.

“Wait!” The man thrashes against his restraints. “Wait, please! I only know what I was told. Your father, he ordered us to bring her to him. That’s all!”

I lean in close. “Why?”

“The baby. He wants the baby.”

Something cold and reptilian wriggles inside my chest. “Keep talking.”

“He said… he said the child is the true Akopov heir. That you’ve been compromised. That the American has turned you against your own blood.” His words pour out faster now in a frothing, desperate stream. “The plan was to take her somewhere safe until she delivered. Then he would decide what happens next.”

I straighten and wipe blood from my hands with a cloth Dimitri silently offers me.

“And where is this ‘safe’ location?”

“I swear I don’t know!” Tears mingle with the blood on his face. “We were just supposed to deliver her to the second team. But⁠—”

“But what?”

“There was a complication. Before we could get her to the rendezvous, we were ambushed. Other men, professionally armed. They shot Igor and Sergei and took the woman. I only got away because I was checking the perimeter.”

The ice in my chest spreads to my limbs.

“Describe these men.”

“Six of them, maybe seven. Good at what they did—like, military, you know? One had a scar here.” He tries to gesture at his neck despite the restraints. “They spoke Russian. One called another ‘Solovyov dog’ when they thought I couldn’t hear.”

Solovyov.

I’m about to ask another question when the door bursts open. Arkady strides in, face grim. “I need to speak with you. Now.”

I follow him into the hallway, leaving Dimitri to watch our prisoner.

When we’re alone, he turns to me. “Our informant in Brighton Beach just called. The Solovyovs are bragging about having the ‘Akopov bride’ in their possession.”

The concrete walls seem to pulse around me. “Where?”

“They’ve gone dark on the location. But they’re planning to use her as leverage. And Vin…” He hesitates.

“What?”

“She’s definitely in labor. They’ve called in a doctor from their network.”

I press the heels of my hands against my eyes until a whole galaxy of stars goes supernova behind my eyelids. Everything inside me wants to scream, to break, to destroy.

But I can’t afford to do that yet.

Arkady takes a deep breath. “We’ve looked everywhere, called in every debt, just like you wanted. But it hasn’t turned up anything usable. The Solovyovs have gone to ground with her in some black site outside our network.”

“There has to be something.”

“There is.” His eyes meet mine. “But you’re not going to like it.”

“Speak.”

“Grigor Petrov has resources we don’t. Intelligence networks in places where the Solovyovs operate that we can’t access.”

“No.” The single word shoots from my mouth like a bullet and kills the idea dead on sight. “Absolutely fucking not.”

“Vin, he’s her father.”

“He doesn’t know that.” I pace the narrow hallway. “And the moment he finds out, he’ll use that information—use her—against me.”

“He might help us find her.”

“Or he might decide his daughter and grandchild are better off with him than with me.” I slam my fist against the wall. “I won’t risk it.”

Arkady edges closer. “Then what’s the alternative? Rowan is out there giving birth in captivity. Every minute we waste⁠—”

“Don’t.” My voice drops to a dangerous whisper. “Don’t fucking tell me what’s at stake here. I know exactly what’s at stake.”

My mind races through options, discarding each one as quickly as it forms. We need information. We need leverage. We need⁠—

“The doctor,” I say suddenly. “The Solovyovs called in a doctor.”

Arkady’s eyes widen as he follows my thinking. “If we can identify which doctor…”

“We can track them to Rowan.”

I stride back into the interrogation room. “Get me everything you know about the Solovyovs’ medical contacts,” I order the bloody man in the chair. “Every doctor, nurse, or veterinarian who’s ever patched up one of their men. Names. Addresses. Now. Do it fast and you might live.”

Ten minutes later, I have a list of six possible doctors. With another command, our tech team is tracking their phones, credit cards, movements.

“Sir.” One of my men approaches nervously. “What should we do with him?” He nods toward our prisoner.

I look at my father’s driver, slumped in the chair, barely conscious.

“Keep him alive. He still has information we might need.” I turn to Arkady. “And find my father. When this is over, he and I are going to have a very final conversation.”

As we head upstairs, Arkady tries one more time. “Vince, about Petrov⁠—”

“My decision is final.” I check my weapon, making sure it’s fully loaded. “I will find my wife and child without inviting another wolf into our home.”

“And if we can’t locate her in time?”

I stop and turn to him, letting him see everything in my eyes: the rage, the fear, the absolute conviction.

“Then there won’t be a Solovyov left alive in this city.” I continue walking. “But that won’t happen. Because I’m going to find her. If I have to tear this world apart piece by bloody fucking piece, I will find her.”

Arkady falls silent. He knows better than to argue with a man on the edge.

And I am on the edge. Balancing precariously between calm and chaos. Between the man Rowan believes I can be and the monster my father created.

I hope for everyone’s sake that the former finds her first.

Because if the monster gets there instead, no one will be left to tell the tale.