Chapter 30

POV ILYA KRAVTSOV

I swore they wouldn’t accept me. That my call would be ignored or they’d set a trap. They were my brothers, but we didn’t always know those we thought were our allies.

I wanted to go to the mansion. I knew that was the only way I’d be able to see Tasha.

But it was a distant dream.

I could never go back without putting them at risk.

The meeting was set on the hill. We’d all be on bikes, not removing our helmets, wearing absolutely nothing that could condemn us. Even the clothes would be different, and the tattoos covered. I wasn’t sure if my brother would accept my terms, but I decided to trust.

I was the first to arrive, and I even closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. I wanted to take off the helmet to feel the air outside, but that was the first rule I had made for myself. I couldn’t slack off.

They took at least twenty minutes to get there. I almost lost hope, but I heard the sound of the bikes.

The two of them were there.

I wanted to pull them into a hug, especially Dimitri, but I held back. It wasn’t wise.

"Thank you for coming," I said cautiously. I wasn’t sure yet why they had agreed to the meeting, but I was glad they showed up.

"We missed you, Ilya," of course, it was Dimitri who spoke.

"I missed you too," I replied, my voice choked.

"What do you want from us?" Kolya spat the words. "Don’t you realize how dangerous this is? You’ve already gotten us into too much trouble. If it weren’t for everything I had to do..."

"I know all of that. I’m not minimizing the problem. But I need to find her."

Kolya let out a bitter laugh.

"This is impossible!" he almost growled. "You’re really asking us to search for your girl?"

"Don’t you know where she is? Not even you, Mitya?" I knew my younger brother had access to secret information since he started working with Pavel. It could be a glimmer of hope.

"Of course not!" Kolya answered for the other. "Pavel is extremely cautious with us. He would never give us information like this."

I continued ignoring him, focused on Mitya. I couldn’t see his eyes very well because of the helmet, but he nodded.

"Kolya is serious. We don’t know anything about Alejandra."

I let a curse slip out, feeling frustrated.

I had taken too long. By now, she might not even be alive anymore; or have been subjected to so many things...

Shit, I didn’t even want to think about it.

"I won’t rest until I find her," I stated, not even knowing if it was a promise to myself or to them. "I’ll turn Russia upside down. The continent. The world. I’ll bring her back to me."

"You fell in love with her?" Nikolai asked, shaking his head in disbelief, condemning me. "You fell in love with a woman who shouldn’t be yours."

"And who should she belong to then?" I growled. "To a bastard who would rape her and force children upon her?"

"One thing is protecting her, Ilya, but you did everything wrong. You must’ve... touched the girl too, didn’t you?"

I remained silent, because I didn’t regret that part, but I wasn’t proud of it either.

"Zasranets! I never thought I’d see you acting with your dick instead of your brain!"

Still shaken by everything that was happening, I lunged at my brother, but Mitya separated us before things could get worse.

"Enough you two. Ilya, it’s better to leave here before anyone sees us. We have no news of Alejandra. You need to get over it. It’s out of our control. Pavel must not have kept her alive. It’s impossible!"

Mitya’s words hit deep in my chest. I knew I was acting like a stubborn child, but my mood had been off for the past few days. I didn’t feel like myself.

If Alejandra wasn’t alive anymore, how would my conscience be? How would I live with the anguish of knowing that I had done everything wrong, and she paid for it?

But would it be better if she lived as a prisoner, a slave to a husband who would abuse her in every way?

"Ilya, I need to report your presence here to Pavel. If anyone finds out, I need our family to be safe. But I’ll do this by giving you time to escape. Go anywhere, but don’t show up here again. I’m giving you one more chance, as your brother, but this could put us all in danger."

He was right. If I was seen in Moscow, even if I took precautions, people would soon associate me with my family. If Kolya got ahead and made the report, he’d be one step ahead.

"Do as you wish. I understand."

I prepared to get on the bike, not even saying goodbye. However, I was stopped when Mitya put his hand on my arm.

"I’ll find out if she’s alive, brother. At least that."

"Dimitri!" Nikolai scolded, but I almost cried with my younger brother’s promise.

I really wanted to hug him, beg him to keep it; even kneel if necessary. But if I knew anyone who had a chance of finding out if Alejandra was alive, through technology, it was Dimitri.

"Thank you."

I didn’t let my emotions get any more overwhelming, so I got on the bike and disappeared from there as fast as I could.

The last thing I thought, as I watched the sun rise from the horizon, descending from the hill, was that if Alejandra was alive, I would still bring her there.

It was my deepest promise.

***

POV ALEJANDRA ZAVALA

I felt more broken on the inside than on the outside.

But it could be worse... that's what I had to think.

When I woke up after being kidnapped within the Wildfire compound, a déjà vu struck my mind. I woke up lying on something hard, with chains on my wrists and ankles and the damn iron gag in my mouth.

I had been there for days. I had started counting, trying to keep my sanity, but eventually, I stopped. What did it matter? I would die soon. Or wish I were dead.

I thought about Ilya more than I should have. He had to become a very distant dream, but I wanted him to be alive. That was all. That he hadn't been hurt too badly, that he could move on with his life without me.

I didn't regret what had happened between us, let alone the few good days I had spent by his side. They would be my best memory. The one I would hold on to when things became too dark.

Because I knew that moment was coming. That waiting was part of the psychological torture.

I didn't even know where I was. I had been unconscious long enough – at least as far as I knew – for them to have flown me from one country to another. There were no windows where I was, and it didn't matter.

I just wanted it to be over soon.

They took off the gag when they forced me to eat and drink water, which happened only a few times during the day. They also made me take a shower, as if that would make any difference.

Clean clothes were delivered, but it all happened very quickly, and then I was chained again.

I tried using the techniques Ilya had taught me, but I got weaker and more depressed each day.

However, no one had touched me, as I had thought would soon happen when I was handed back to the pakhan.

So, the day he appeared at the time I was supposed to eat, I was so apathetic that I didn't even feel my heart race. It was as if my body were saving its strength just to stay alive.

"Well, well, who would have thought... You were so beautiful the first time I saw you. Now you look like a wreck..."

He was in front of me, and I just remained lying on the floor, on my side, because it was the most comfortable position with my arms chained to my ankles by a chain link.

Unlike when I first saw him, he had a tattoo on his face. Some kind of tribal, very tasteless, which he probably thought was very interesting.

"Kneel her down," he ordered the men with him, who didn't hesitate to comply.

The floor beneath me was uneven, just cement, and I almost cried when my bone made contact with the surface, which would surely leave it in tatters.

With just one movement from Pavel, my wrists were freed but chained to my back. The gag was removed, while a plate was placed in front of me on the floor.

"Eat," he ordered.

It had probably been more than twenty-four hours since I last put anything in my stomach, except water, because they hadn't brought any food. My stomach hurt so much I thought it would eat me from the inside out.

In those days of captivity, all I had been given to eat was a piece of bread and some boiled eggs. In front of me was a beautiful plate with pieces of chicken, caramelized onions, vegetables. Everything smelled so good.

"Eat!" he ordered again.

I wanted to refuse, wanted to have the strength to do so, but I ended up leaning forward, unable to even support my elbows on the ground, forcing my knees harder against the cement, balancing to try to eat.

I fell face-first into the plate about three times, getting myself all dirty and almost crying from the pain. I knew I would get sick if I ate too much, so I stopped when I thought it was enough, and the men came to give me water, clean my mouth, and put the gag back on.

Pavel had a smile on his face when he crouched to look me in the eyes.

He wore a green olive blazer, always very flashy, and his blonde hair was slicked back. He smelled of some kind of woody cologne, whose scent I would never forget in my life.

"You’re filthy. A pig! My dick can’t even get hard thinking that that bastard Kravtsov fucked you. But the time will come when I’ll believe you’re a bit cleaner, and I’ll lay my hands on you. Until then, enjoy the five-star accommodation."

He didn't say anything else. He just stood up, adjusted his suit, and gestured for his men to follow him, locking the iron door of the cell I was in, leaving me alone in the dark.

It was only the next morning that the first blow came.

But it wasn’t the last.