Chapter 23 - Boris

"What the fuck happened here?" I asked, slamming the door to my SUV and walking toward the hanger. All around me, workers and our family paramedics are standing in the gravel. Some are openly gaping at the damage. A few look shell-shocked. Some are on the phone.

When I first received the emergency notification, I was terrified, thinking Fiona might have been harmed. But, out of some weird luck, she texted me that she was leaving just before it happened.

The southern wall has been damaged, as far as I can see, but it doesn't look like there's further damage. Through the open door, I can see several planes, which also look to be completely intact. If this was an attack, it doesn't look like it was very successful.

We've had attacks on our operations before, but they usually result in more damage or stolen goods. When I see the bags of beans stacked high inside, I press my lips together, trying to figure this out.

It could have been an attack that stopped in its tracks—maybe the attacker got scared or caught and ran away before they could finish the job.

Or, as is always possible, it could have just been an old-fashioned accident. But Fiona is so meticulous about safety and keeping the employees out of harm's way that an explosion seems strange. I can't see her ignoring faulty wiring or storing the fuel incorrectly.

"Is any of the stuff gone?" I ask when I get closer and see Viktor standing outside, holding a rag to his head. He's wearing a pair of black jeans and a black leather jacket, so the dust that covers him from head to toe makes him look like a powdered donut.

"What?" he shouts, pulling the rag away from his head, and when I look at it, I see blood. In fact, there's blood smeared around his left ear, and I wince, hoping it's the kind of ear injury that will heal. We have a distant cousin who lost his hearing in one ear, and it was a long time coming back from that before he was able to be active in the Family again. Many people don't realize how much they rely on their hearing until it's taken from them.

"You'll need to get that checked out," I say, and he gives me a confused expression, so I walk around to his other side, deciding to forgo the discussion about his injury for the time being.

"What happened?" I ask instead, hoping Viktor will be able to give me a straightforward explanation.

"Explosion," he says, repositioning the rag and still talking way too loudly. There are already some people here from our clinic tending to a few of our workers, but it looks like Viktor has the worst injury.

I want to say no shit because it's obvious that it was an explosion, but Viktor is looking around kind of dazedly, so I just try asking again.

"Was it a faulty fuel tank? Or wiring?"

"No!" Viktor says, shaking his head, "I think it was a bomb."

A bomb. That means it was a purposeful attack. I glance back at the hanger, noting the strange, concentrated damage closest to the office. What kind of attack causes minor structural damage to the wall furthest from the products?

A loud noise draws my attention, and when I see Anya's bug come speeding around the corner, I smack a hand to my forehead. This situation is already fucked up enough without adding her in. The last thing I need is for my sister to get hurt.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I say, walking away from Viktor to intercept my idiot sister.

"What?" I hear Viktor call, hurrying after me.

"Anya!" I shout when I see her and Anton climb out of her vehicle. "And you—Anton, what the hell? Why would you let her come here? We haven't even cleared the place yet. There could be more bombs."

"The three of you are here," Anya says, putting her hands on her hips. "So why shouldn't I be? And where the hell is Fiona?"

"She went home early," I say, "said something about needing the rest of the day off. Thank god she did, too."

"What?" Viktor says, coming to a stop next to us. I let out a frustrated groan, making me walk past him, but he reached out and grabbed me. "No, seriously—" he says. "You said Fiona left?"

"Yeah, a while before this." I pull my phone out, glancing at my texts. "She texted me at least an hour before you did."

I'm about to walk away again when I glance at Viktor and see his face is white. He never looks like this, and it makes the blood drain straight out of my body.

"What?" I ask, parroting him now, moving to stand in front of him. "What the fuck, Viktor? What is that look for?"

"She was here," he says, turning to me with a look of horror on his face. "It was her voice on the intercom, telling everyone to get out."

"You're sure?"

Viktor nods, then grimaces, wrinkling his brow as though he's trying to remember exactly what happened. My entire body is shaking now, and I resist the urge to snap at him, to tell him to hurry up. I try to remind myself that Viktor has just been through something traumatic, and his brain is probably working slower than usual.

"She said, Get the fuck out, everybody. "

"Oh my god," Anya says, putting her hand to her mouth. She presses to call Fiona, and we all stare in horror as Fiona's ringtone comes, muffled, from inside the building. I follow the sound, walking near to the wreckage on the southern wall, and bend down, seeing her phone buried under some rubble, lighting up with Anya's contact.

"Fuck," I say, turning to my siblings. "Where the hell is she?"

Viktor stares at me. Anya puts her hands in her hair. Anton moves closer to the wall, kneeling like he's going to inspect the ground.

"We have to find her," I say, clearing my throat. "What the hell is this? A random attack on the hanger? That doesn't affect the product at all. That's hundreds of millions of dollars worth of coke over there—what kind of strategy is it to leave it all there."

"Brother," Anton says, his voice low. "This is an Albrecht bomb."

"I don't know what that means," I say, struggling to keep my voice level. Now is not the time for my brother's fun facts.

"It means that this just so happens to be the kind of bomb that the Corsica are fond of using."

"Allard," Viktor breathes. I blink, feeling sucker punched. I thought the thing with Allard was done. And now they have Fiona. I look to Viktor, waiting for him to say something about her going willingly, about her liking to be kidnapped. Just last night, he was busy telling me that I had given her too much responsibility. That it was one thing to keep her around, another to give her a leadership role. I wait for him to call me a fool, to say good riddance.

"We have to get her," he says, finally, which causes Anya and Anton to look at him, surprised. "Let's go. We can take your car, Boris."

"Uh, what's happening?" Anya asks. "I thought you hated Fiona."

"I don't hate her," Viktor says. "And I didn't realize—I didn't know, Boris."

"Didn't know what?" I ask, moving quickly beside him, already more than onboard with going to rescue her.

"I didn't know that you were in love with her," he says, rounding to the passenger side, his gaze traveling to the ground. "I thought she was just a good time to you, something interesting."

"Oh my god, Boris, you're in love with Fiona?" Anya says, "I mean, it's totally obvious, but you told her that?"

"No," I snap, "I haven't told her that."

I should have. I wanted to a million times, but I couldn't get the words to come out for some reason. Maybe it's because my parents were never affectionate with me. Maybe it's because I'm afraid it will be taken from me if I love something too much.

I don't know the reason, but I know that the second I see her again, I'm going to make sure she knows how much I love her. That I'm desperately, hopelessly in love with her.

"And now the Allards have her," Anton says from beside Viktor, waiting for me to unlock the doors. I do, then turn to Anya.

"You are not coming."

"Throw me out. Go ahead. Waste valuable time we could be using to go after Fiona."

I growl in frustration and get into the driver's seat. I throw the car into reverse and peel out of the parking lot, kicking gravel up behind us.

It's a gorgeous night. Las Vegas is a shining jewel, glittering as always, and now it's washed in rich golden light from the sunset. Any tourist arriving on a night like this would be pleased with the view despite the chilly weather.

But my girl—the love of my life—is in danger. This sunset is not for me.

"Someone call Roman," I say, then I realize I have no idea where the hell I'm going. "Where are we going? Did we figure out where they've taken her?"

"I'll have it in just a second," Anton says.

"Wow," Anya says, "how did you figure it out?"

"Oh, easy," Anton says, looking up from his tablet. "I implanted a tracking chip in her."

"Oh my god, Anton, that is such an invasion of privacy!" Anya says, despite the current situation. I frown at him, trying to figure out when he might have done something like that.

"What? No—she was awake. She asked me to. After that little run-in with the Allards at that club, she said she wanted us to be able to find her if they ever came after her again."

"Holy shit," I breathe, my chest expanding with pride. Fiona is one of the smartest people I've ever met.

"Maybe we should all have fucking chips," Viktor says, practically yelling.

"Jesus, brother," Anya says, covering her ears. "You can use your inside voice."

"What?"

Anton sends the coordinates to my navigation system as Viktor and Anya go back and forth, their volume rising higher and higher.

I speed along the roads, taking us out of the city and further into the desert, thinking about all the ways I'm going to make James Allard pay for daring to touch my girl.