Chapter 144 Nikolai
I stared at the empty bed. The sheets were still arranged. The dress I had put on her was gone. The flowers beside her were scattered on the floor. But Anya's body had disappeared.
"How did this happen? Who was guarding this room?"
"Boss, we watched the room the whole time. No one went in. No one came out."
"Then where is she?" I grabbed him by the collar. "Bodies do not just disappear."
"Sir, we swear. The door never opened."
I let him go and turned back to the bed. My mind raced. Unless the body we found was not Anya. I had been so certain. The dress. The hair. The size. Everything matched. But I had not looked closely. Had not checked carefully. I had just seen a body in a black dress and assumed.
"Get the embalmer."
They brought him within the hour. He stood in the doorway trembling.
"The body you worked on. Did you examine it closely?"
"Yes, sir. I prepared it as you asked."
"Did you check for identifying marks? Scars? Anything?"
The embalmer hesitated. "Sir, the decay was extensive. I focused on preservation, not identification."
"So you do not know for certain it was my wife?"
"I assumed... you seemed so certain. I did not want to question..."
I grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground. "You assumed and said nothing?"
"Sir, please..."
I threw him against the wall. He collapsed to the floor gasping. "Get out before I kill you."
He scrambled to his feet and ran. I turned to my men. "Find that body. Search every morgue, every funeral home, every place that handles the dead. Someone took it. I want answers."
"Yes, boss."
They scattered. I walked to the window and looked out at Moscow. Gray. Cold. Endless. If the body was not Anya, where was she? Was she still alive? Had someone taken her? Was she being held somewhere? Was she hurt? Was she dying? I did not know. And not knowing was worse than anything.
The door opened behind me. I did not turn around. "What is it?"
"Boss, we found something. Not the body. Something else."
I turned. One of my lieutenants stood there holding a piece of paper. "This was left in the hallway outside this room. One of the guards found it an hour ago but thought it was trash until he looked closer."
He handed it to me. The paper was expensive and heavy, the kind used for important documents. Written in perfect handwriting was a single message.
"She is alive and she is with me. If you want her back, you will do exactly as I say. Wait for my instructions. Do not try to find her. Do not involve the police. Do not tell anyone. Or she dies. You have three days."
No signature. No name. No way to know who had sent it. But someone had Anya. Someone had taken her from that forest. Someone had her now and they were making demands.
I crumpled the paper in my fist. Rage flooded through me. Someone had my wife. Someone had taken her while I was going insane over a corpse that was not even hers.
"Find out who sent this. Check the cameras. Check the hallway. Check everything. Someone put this here. Someone knows something."
"Yes, boss."
I looked down at the crumpled paper. Three days to wait for instructions. Three days to do nothing while some stranger held my wife. I would not wait three days. I would not wait three hours. I would burn this city again if I had to. I would tear apart every building and interrogate every person until I found who had Anya.
My phone rang. Unknown number. I answered immediately. "Who is this?"
"Nikolai Markov." The voice was distorted. Mechanical. Impossible to recognize. "I see you found my note."
"Where is my wife?"
"Safe. For now. Whether she stays that way depends on you."
"What do you want?"
"I want you to wait. To do nothing. To trust that I will contact you when the time is right."
"I do not trust anyone. Tell me where she is or I will..."
"You will what?" the voice interrupted. "You will search the city? You already tried that. You will threaten me? I am not afraid of you, Markov. I have your wife. I have all the power here."
"If you hurt her..."
"I will not hurt her unless you give me a reason. So do not give me a reason. Wait for my instructions. Three days. That is all I ask."
"How do I know she is even alive? How do I know you are telling the truth?"
There was a pause. Then the voice said, "Check your email."
The line went dead.
I went to my computer and opened my email. There was a new message with no subject and no text, just an attachment. I opened it. It was a video. Short. Maybe ten seconds long. It showed Anya in a bed in a beautiful room. She was clean and dressed in a white nightgown. Her eyes were closed but her chest rose and fell. She was breathing. She was alive.
I watched it again and again. Studying every detail. The room looked expensive and safe. Anya did not look hurt or tortured. She looked like she was sleeping. But she was a prisoner. Held by someone I did not know for reasons I did not understand.
Not Volkov. He was dead. I had killed him myself. Not Kozlov. He had no reason to take her. He wanted me, not her. Not Viktor or Smoke. They were my allies. Someone else then. Someone with power and money and a plan I could not see yet.
The door opened again. Viktor Sokolov walked in. His face was grim. "Markov, we need to talk."
"Not now."
"Yes, now. I just received a call from someone claiming to have your wife. They told me to tell you to cooperate. To wait. To do nothing. They said if you involve anyone else or try to find her, they will kill her."
I turned to face him. "You received a call too?"
"Yes. Ten minutes ago. The voice was distorted. I could not tell who it was. But they knew things, Markov. They knew about our alliance. They knew about Smoke. They knew details only someone on the inside would know."
My blood ran cold. "Someone betrayed us."
"I think someone has been watching us for a long time. Planning this. Waiting for the right moment. Until you were broken and desperate and barely holding on."
I turned away and stared at the wall. Someone had waited until I was at my weakest. And then they had taken the one thing I had left.
"What do we do?" Viktor asked.
"We wait. Three days. Then we find out what they want."
"And if we do not like what they want?"
I looked at him with cold, dead eyes. "Then we take it anyway. And we kill everyone who stands in our way."
Viktor nodded. "I will gather men and prepare for war. Just in case."
"Do it quietly. They are watching. They will know if we mobilize."
"Understood."
He left. I was alone again. I walked back to the window and looked out at the city. Somewhere out there, Anya was being held. Somewhere out there, someone was playing games with my life. But they made one mistake. They kept her alive. And as long as she was alive, I had hope. And as long as I had hope, I would fight.
Three days. I would give them three days. But if they did not return my wife safely, I would show them what Nikolai Markov looked like when he had nothing left to lose. I would show them hell.
My phone buzzed. Another message. I looked down.
"Day one begins now. Do not disappoint me, Markov. Your wife's life depends on it."
I put the phone down and sat in the darkness. Waiting. But not passively. I was planning and thinking and preparing. Because when three days passed, someone was going to learn that taking Anya Markov was the last mistake they would ever make.