5. Kristof

"You speak as if we don't stand a chance," Aleksander yells. "Does the strength of this family mean nothing to you?"

"What strength?" I yell back. "We're losing men in droves, losing money from not being able to operate safely at the docks and the resulting blow of how much we're losing from not getting our drugs into the country? Never mind the countless bribes to keep those deaths out of the news. Aleksander, wake up! Whatever your plan is, it needs to change before there's nothing left to save!"

Everything that's built inside me these past months pours out like a torrential downpour and there's nothing to stop it. Aleksander and I used to work so well together, and while I put up a cold front, it pains me to see how he's slipped. The Orlova name is one to be feared and respected, but these past few months are turning us into a joke, and I can't stand by. Not any longer.

"The wedding will fix this."

"Fuck the wedding!" I round on Aleksander, pointing at him as he remains seated, smoking away. "You can't put our entire future on that!"

For more reasons than I can word.

Alena is strong, I don't doubt that, but no one can survive Mikhail. He's a sadist in all the wrong ways, and Aleksander seems blind to what appears to be a very obvious power play. Married to Alena, all it would take is for Aleksander to meet a grisly fate and the Orlovas would be swallowed by the Kuznetsovs. There'd be a new Pakhan leading the Russian Mafia into a new era of bloodshed.

"You think me foolish?" Aleksander booms. "You think me blind? This wedding is more than just securing a future for my family. Why can you not see this, Kristof?"

"Because I have just spent a year protecting the most important piece of our territory, to come back here and see that you have made no progress. You will think about the Nikolaevs when they should be a done deal!" Every muscle in my body is wound too tightly. I can't move for fear of snapping something.

"The Irish?—"

"The Irish won't give a shit that we've got access to new weapons. I've seen the tech they used to take out three of our clubs last week when I wasn't even in the country. This new shit from Mexico isn't going to put us ahead. If anything, it will merely even the playing field." I rake a hand through my hair, pressing my fingertips to my skull in a vain attempt to ease the tension bubbling under the surface. What frustrates me even more is that Aleksander smiles as if we're having a pleasant discussion when he stands.

The men around us remain silent, too held in their respect of Aleksander to dare challenge his view. Even those around who hold agreement in their eyes remain quiet.

"Kristof, your passion is what fuels you, and it is admirable, but you go too far. You speak out of turn, and I will not allow such disrespect." Both his hands land on my shoulders, and I tense further, coiling internally like a snake. "I have heard your proposition, and I understand your concern. With the wedding so close, I will discuss this with Mara and…"

His voice trails off into silence as a fog of rage descends, bleeding red into my vision. I lift my arms, abruptly shoving away his touch. My rage snaps.

"I have bent over backward for over a year trying to protect this family, to clean up the messes and putting my life and loyalty on the line, and you have the fucking cheek to stand there and appease me because of a fucking wedding?" I yell furiously, turning back to face Aleksander as I reach the door. "You refuse to listen."

"Watch yourself," Aleksander warns. "No one is above unemployment."

A cloaked warning, a thinly-veiled threat on my life that merely makes me laugh. "We won't be around long enough for anyone to cash that check."

With that, I storm from the room, leaving behind Aleksander and his stupid views and his stupid men.

Honestly, I don't know what I expected. The work I put in to repair relationships and build up the parts of this family that are tarnishing with age is cast aside because of the wedding. A wedding that Aleksander seems certain will solve all of our problems. Maybe, in his eyes, he's right. He genuinely seems to believe that securing the new weapons routes is worth giving his daughter such a fucked-up future.

Maybe that's the real reason for my anger. It hits me as I reach the bar and jump over, forgoing a glass for a full bottle of the strongest Vodka they have on the top shelf. Cracking the seal, I drink deeply until footsteps reach my ears and Alexei stands in front of me, his eyes wide.

"Don't get any ideas," I snarl, taking another long drink. The Vodka is so pure it doesn't even burn on the way down, but it calms the storm raging in my chest. Slamming the bottle down, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and bark at Alexei. "What?"

"What would you do?" He slides eagerly onto the stool in front of me. "I hear the others talk. Everyone's worried. They think Aleksander is losing his grip on reality and the family, but they're too scared to do anything. He's squashed all the families that could rise against him and swallowed all the ones too small to know any better." Alexei nervously licks his lips. "So I want to know, what would you do if you had the power?"

Alexei brings a dangerous topic to me, a man on the edge, utterly furious with my family"s path. It crosses my mind that this could be a trick, but Alexei is too green for that. Especially against me.

Alena lingers on the fringes of my mind, dancing there like a whisper, and it's the only thing that calms me enough not to bite Alexei's head off. I take another drink, slower this time.

"We wouldn't have made it this far if I were in power," I reply steadily. "The Petrovs never would have stolen from us, never would have tried to create that alliance right under our noses."

Alexei nods, drinking up every word, and he stares at me expectantly.

"But… if we somehow did, then with the amount of blood loss on either side of this fucked up war, I would bring the Nikolaevs over immediately. With their might combined with ours, we'd crush the Irish within a week, secure the docks, and resume all international shipping." I take another drink, and the alcohol warms my tight muscles, tempting them to relax. "Then I'd take more from the Irish as compensation. Maybe from the Italians too, to remind them who is on top."

"Wouldn't that be greedy?"

Laughter jumps out of me. "Kid, the way this world works, a year of downturn like we've just suffered is like a decade of bad business for a normal organization. Damage to reputation goes in an instant." I snap my fingers. "Here we are, waiting on a wedding to secure new weapons from Mexico in the hope that we can throw our entire kingdom behind guns. By the time we rise to the top of the weapons trade, the Irish will have the docks, and you can rule us out of the drug game. Not a worthy trade."

"So… so, what are you going to do?"

"And why are you asking me that?" I tip the bottle toward him, and after a pause, he takes it. "Drink."

"Curiosity, mostly," Alexei says, holding the bottle aloft. "I've never seen someone talk to the Pakhan like that."

"I'm the only one who can. We have history, so don't go getting any ideas."

He nods and drinks, screwing up his face as he does so. He really is as green as he looks. His questions play on my mind, though. What am I going to do? I don't like feeling powerless, especially when it comes to this aspect of my life. I want us to succeed. I want us on top where we belong, but… Alena.

If Aleksander insists on leading us down this path, then I will be by his side. Because his side is her side, and it's the only way I'll get to protect her from that scumbag, Mikhail.

"I'll do what I always do." I take the bottle back from Alexei and glance up as three guards sprint past the doorway. "I'll drink. Apologize. And I'll go back to work where I'm needed."

"Just like that?"

"You gotta pick your battles, kid." My eyes narrow. "Follow your Lieutenant. That's all you have to worry about."

Alexei nods slowly, then two minutes later, he flies off the stool and stands to attention as Aleksander storms into the room, flanked by the three guards I saw earlier. My heart clenches faintly, and my hand snakes back around the bottle. If his discussion with his beloved Mara has resulted in a cry for my head, I'm not going down without a fight.

"Alena is missing," Aleksander barks out breathlessly, his face pinched.

The world punches into a deathly silence around me.

Mara appears in the doorway, but only briefly as she's swept away by several armed guards taking her to safety. My heart drops to my gut, and a cold chill sweeps down my spine, turning my muscles to ice.

"What?"

"The mansion is in lockdown. Security has swept the building from top to bottom, but there's no sign of her!" Aleksander the Pakhan is briefly replaced by a father, and pain laces his words. "She's gone, Kristof. She's fucking gone."

"Impossible." This place is a fortress. There's no way Alena is anywhere but tucked up in a dark corner with her nose in a book.

"We've scoured everywhere," one of the guards remarks. I pull myself over the bar, alcohol and Alexei forgotten.

"You'd think in a place that's basically a prison, it would be impossible to lose someone." I snort. Aleksander's hand shoots out and grabs my arm, his grip painful.

"Kristof, please. For a moment, forget everything else. Alena would never run away. She's a good girl. Soft. Someone must have taken her." His breath hitches, and then it hits me.

This isn't a case of Alena falling asleep in the attic like the last time she disappeared. She's really gone.

"No…" It can't be. There's no fucking way someone took her, right? My heart begins to pound, slow and painful, as we hurry from the bar and out into the hallway. "When was she last seen? Have there been any new guards on the property?"

"She went to bed early, about an hour ago," one of the guards explains. "She had her nightly hot chocolate and retired. It wasn't until Mara went to wake her for a wedding-related question that we saw she was missing."

This fucking wedding. Alarm begins to build inside me, and an impatient itch sweeps down my arms.

"You're telling me she is definitely not on the property?"

"No, sir."

"How the fuck did this happen? How the fuck did—" I catch myself, grinding my teeth as my mind races. "Every guard, new or old, I don't give a shit. You find them, bring them here, and question them until every second is accounted for. Do you understand me?" One guard hurries away with an agreement, and I grab the next by the collar.

"Review all the footage, every single detail, and lock down all exits. No one in, no one out."

He nods and sprints away, and then I turn to Aleksander.

"Find her," he orders. "I don't care what you have to do. You find my daughter, do you hear me?"

"I'll start at the hut."

I don't need to be told twice. With a last glance at Alexei who lingers down the corridor, I sprint for the door and out into the cold night air.

Alena. My Alena.

My sweet, sheltered girl who wouldn't hurt a fly is out here somewhere, snatched away from the safety of her home. The very thought of her in the hands of anyone who isn't me is almost suffocating, and my hands shake with suppressed fury as I try to get into my car.

There aren't many places for me to start looking other than checking with the guard post down the street to see if they saw anything unusual. As I throw the car into gear, I connect a call to the head of security, link my phone to the dash, and then race off down the driveway.

There is one thing that I have to check first. Last year, I gave Alena a stunning platinum pendant on her eighteenth birthday.

If she's wearing it, the tracker I planted in it will take me to her, and I'm going to kill whoever has taken her.