I have my most trusted men scouring the city, searching every street corner and alley. The tech team is hacking into city surveillance and tapping into traffic cameras. I’ve combed through the list of last night’s duty personnel. Maybe I missed a sign, a shift in allegiance. Someone who had access and motive to take Kira. I’m doing all I can to replace her, but it still feels like I’m missing an obvious piece of the puzzle.
My eyes drift towards the window, my heart heavy.
Is Kira scared right now? Harmed? Is the life growing inside of her safe? These thoughts hammer at my brain, but I shove them down and focus on what I need to do.
The sound of footsteps and my office door opening draws my attention.
Pavel stands in front of me, face set in stone. A wave of confusion hits me as he holds up a pregnancy test. ‘Discovered this near the back entrance of the west wing.’
I shake my head, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. “I don’t understand.”
“This is a third test that Nadya is not aware of. I confirmed it with her—she swears there are only two.” He swallows hard.
I sit straight up in my chair, a sick feeling growing in my gut. “What are you saying?”
“After I got stitched up, Nadya said she was going to church to pray for Kira.” His jaw hardens. “She left through the west-side back door. Unusual for her, wouldn’t you say?”
He’s right—Nadya doesn’t like to drive. She prefers to take a chauffeured car that would pick her up from the main entrance in front of the home. It’s a privilege afforded to her as my personal assistant.
A strange sensation knots my insides, suggesting a truth I don’t want to face.
The disjointed pieces fall into place: Nadya’s resentment towards Kira, her withholding of information from Boris, her claims that Kira had run away.
Damn. I’ve been blind to what’s been right before me.
Rising, I’m driven by a fresh sense of urgency.
Pavel remains expressionless. ‘What can I do to help?’
‘Tell Viktor and Roman,’ I respond. “There’s something I need to do.”
I make a beeline for Nadya’s room, the cold feeling in my gut growing stronger with each step.
Finding the door locked, I growl. Too impatient to get a key, I draw the Glock from my waistband, take aim at the doorknob, and fire, blasting it apart. Metal and wood fragments scatter as the door bursts open, revealing Nadya’s meticulously arranged room.
I start with her desk, flipping through papers, checking drawers. They’re filled with neatly labeled files—nothing unusual for someone in her position. Moving to her closet, I push aside clothes, feeling along the back wall, searching for any hidden compartments. I don’t know what I’m searching for, but I trust that I’ll know when I replace it. I check under her bed, behind paintings, even in the bathroom.
Nothing.
I sit on the corner of her bed and take a breath. Have I lost my mind tearing apart Nadya’s room on a hunch? My eyes drift around the space, landing on a shelf above her dresser.
It’s a ceramic teddy bear that catches my attention. A small memento gifted to Irina and me on Ilya’s birth. What the hell is it doing here? Like many things from my past, this should have been destroyed after Ilya’s death.
I stand to get a closer look. Beside the bear is a decorative box. I reach for it. Opening its lid, the air whooshes from my lungs. Inside are fragments of my past: silver cufflinks Irina bought me, a pair of leather gloves gifted to me on my birthday, and—the most shocking discovery—the miniature wooden ship that Ilya loved.
I’m knocked to my knees.
This is more than a morbid collection. It’s an obsession, a twisted timeline of my life that she’s been secretly hoarding.
The Zippo.
It could only have been her.
Before I fully register my actions, I’m storming into Viktor’s office. Viktor, Pavel, and Roman all turn to face me, their expressions grave.
Roman gestures towards the monitors. “You won’t fucking believe this.”
I freeze, taking in the image on the screen. Even zoomed in and with shitty resolution, it’s clear what I’m looking at—Nadya pushing Kira into the trunk of a car.
Horror ices my insides.
It’s worse. Worse than I could have imagined. Nadya has always been the loyal assistant, the ever-present right hand. Not this. Not a kidnapper. Not a traitor.
Viktor’s hands fly over the keyboard, his eyes fixed on the monitors. ‘I’ve got something,’ he announces. He points to a map displayed on the screen, highlighting a blinking dot. ‘She’s in one of our tracked vehicles. If it’s the car Nadya used to abduct Kira yesterday…” Viktor hits a few keys, pulling up a log. “Yeah, here we go. The car’s history shows it went north, to a wooded area outside of the city. Looks like she’s heading in the same direction.”
Without having to say a word, Pavel and Roman stand in unison, each swiftly checking the magazines of their guns for ammunition.
A silent agreement passes between us.
Adrenaline pulses through me. ‘Let’s go.’
Viktor stays behind to run point. It’s Pavel, Roman, and me racing to catch up with Nadya. We’re not involving anyone else. Partly because we don’t yet know who can be trusted—Nadya may have had help—and partly because this is personal. She betrayed all of our trust, and that’s not something we’ll ever forgive.
I’ve filled my right hands in on the memorabilia of my life I found in her room—one part of this sickening picture.
Roman is driving, hard determination etched on his face as the cityscape gradually gives way to rural roads, the bustle of Moscow fading into the rearview mirror.
Pavel leans forward, squinting at the passing scenery. “Where the fuck is she going?”
‘Masha’s old cabin,’ I mutter. I know it in my bones, though I’ve never been there. Kira talked about it often.
Viktor’s voice crackles through the comms, breaking the tense silence. ‘Her vehicle just stopped. You’re about a mile away from her. I suggest you park and approach on foot so we don’t spook her.”
Roman pulls the car off the road, replaceing cover among the dense evergreens. We gear up and start moving through the thatch of trees. The sky is dark overhead, a reminder of how long I’ve been running on no sleep fuelled only by adrenaline and hope.
Hope that Kira is still alive. Unharmed. That our baby is too.
Nothing else matters.
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