Chapter Seventy-Nine
Chapter Seventy-Nine
The phone rang again.
Nikolai crossed to the desk and lifted the receiver.
Every eye in the command room followed him.
Ilya was already working, fingers moving rapidly across the keyboard as he attempted to isolate the signal. Maksim stood beside him, rigid and silent, waiting.
Nikolai raised the handset to his ear.
“Volkov.”
Silence.
Just long enough to make everyone listen harder.
Then a low chuckle drifted through the line.
“The king himself answers the phone.”
Nikolai’s expression didn’t change.
“Dmitri.”
Another pause.
“I wondered how long it would take you to recognize my voice.”
“I haven’t forgotten the sound of a traitor.”
Another quiet laugh.
“There he is.”
Nikolai looked toward Ilya.
A slight shake of his head.
Nothing yet.
“What do you want?”
“Straight to business.”
“Answer the question.”
The amusement disappeared from Dmitri’s voice.
“You’re going to return what you stole.”
Maksim frowned.
Nikolai remained still.
“I stole nothing.”
“No.”
A beat.
“You simply inherited it.”
Silence.
Nikolai’s gaze hardened.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“You kidnapped two women over an inheritance?”
“I took something valuable enough to make you listen.”
Nikolai’s hand tightened around the receiver.
“You think taking Anika gives you control over me?”
“I think loving her changed you.”
Dmitri paused.
“It made you predictable.”
Nikolai gave him nothing.
“Proof of life.”
Silence answered him.
“Both of them.”
“You’re in no position to make demands.”
“Then hang up.”
Ilya glanced sharply toward him.
Nikolai waited.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Dmitri sighed.
“You always did know when to push.”
“Proof.”
Another pause.
“Check your phone.”
A notification sounded inside Nikolai’s jacket.
He removed the phone.
Unknown sender.
One attachment.
A video.
Ilya moved toward him.
“Forward it first.”
Nikolai did.
“Got it.”
He opened the file.
Concrete filled the screen.
Bare walls.
No windows.
One harsh light overhead.
Anika and Elizabeth sat side by side beneath it, wrists restrained in front of them.
Maksim stepped closer.
Lizzy’s hair was tangled around her face. Dried blood marked one temple. Bruising darkened her jaw.
But she was upright.
Conscious.
Alive.
Maksim released a slow breath.
Nikolai barely heard it.
He was looking at Anika.
A bruise spread across one cheek. Her lower lip was split. Dirt streaked her clothing.
But she sat straight.
Alert.
Her eyes moved briefly beyond the camera.
Ceiling.
Floor.
Door.
Watching.
Cataloguing.
Planning.
Even now.
Nikolai’s thumb froze against the phone.
She was alive.
And somewhere beneath the bruises and defiance—
So was their child.
He forced the thought away.
A voice sounded behind the camera.
“Tell him.”
Lizzy looked into the lens.
“We’re alive.”
Her voice was hoarse.
Then Anika.
Her gaze locked directly onto the camera.
“We’re alive.”
The video ended.
Nikolai immediately replayed it.
This time, he watched everything except her face.
Concrete floor.
Metal door along the edge of the frame.
No windows.
No pipes.
Nothing identifiable.
Beside him, Ilya tore into the file.
“Metadata stripped.”
“Audio?”
“Working.”
“Timestamp?”
“Gone.”
Maksim stared at the frozen image.
“She’s favoring her left side.”
Nikolai nodded.
“I saw.”
Dmitri remained on the line.
Waiting.
“Satisfied?”
“No.”
“I expected as much.”
“How recent?”
“Recent enough.”
Nikolai stared at the screen.
“If either of them dies, you lose your leverage.”
“Then perhaps you understand why they’re still breathing.”
Cold.
Practical.
Exactly what Nikolai expected.
“What are your terms?”
A pause.
“Now you’re listening.”
“I’ve been listening.”
“No. You’ve been hunting.”
Nikolai’s eyes flicked toward Ilya.
His hands continued moving.
“You know what I want,” Dmitri said.
“No. I know what you think I stole.”
“What was stolen from me.”
“And what would that be?”
Silence.
Then—
“The Volkov Bratva.”
Maksim’s expression darkened.
Nikolai didn’t move.
“You want the organization.”
“I want what belongs to me.”
“You betrayed it.”
“I served it.”
“Then you ran.”
“I waited.”
“For what?”
“My opportunity.”
Nikolai stared at the map.
“You were never Pakhan.”
“No.”
Dmitri’s voice changed.
Just slightly.
“But perhaps you should ask yourself why.”
There it was.
A crack.
Small.
Deliberate or accidental, Nikolai couldn’t tell.
“You called me,” Nikolai said. “If you have something to say, say it.”
“Not yet.”
“Then we’re finished.”
“You’re remarkably confident for a man whose Tsaritsa is sitting in my cell.”
Nikolai’s knuckles whitened around the receiver.
Dmitri had finally found the nerve.
He wanted anger.
Nikolai refused to give it to him.
“What are your terms?”
“One hour.”
“For?”
“Consider what matters more.”
Nikolai’s gaze shifted to Anika’s frozen image.
“Your throne…”
A pause.
“…or your queen.”
The line went dead.
Ilya immediately bent over the trace.
“Damn it.”
“Location?”
“Nothing usable yet. He bounced it through multiple relays.”
“Keep working.”
Maksim remained fixed on the video.
“Play it again.”
Ilya did.
Fifteen seconds.
Lizzy.
Anika.
Concrete.
Light.
A door.
Nothing.
And yet—
Something.
Anika’s eyes moved before she looked into the camera.
Not randomly.
She looked up.
Left.
Down.
Then directly at the lens.
Nikolai stepped closer.
“Again.”
Ilya replayed it.
The same sequence.
Maksim noticed it too.
“She’s looking at something.”
“No,” Nikolai said.
He watched it a third time.
A faint shift passed through his expression.
“She’s showing us something.”
Ilya froze the frame.
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
Not yet.
But Anika knew he would study the video.
She knew he would look beyond the bruises.
Beyond the restraints.
She had fifteen seconds.
She would have used every one.
Nikolai reached inside his jacket.
His fingers brushed the folded note hidden there.
Dmitri believed he had given Nikolai proof of life.
Perhaps he had given them something else.
“Pull every frame,” Nikolai ordered. “Every sound. Every reflection.”
Ilya nodded.
Maksim moved closer to the screen.
“And Dmitri?”
Nikolai looked at Anika’s face.
Dmitri wanted him choosing between his empire and his queen.
He had made one critical mistake.
He believed Nikolai intended to choose.
“Find them.”
His voice dropped.
“Then we take everything else from him.”
Ilya turned toward the maps. “He expects you to negotiate.”
“I will.”
Maksim looked at him.
Nikolai's expression remained cold.
“Let him believe I'm considering his terms. Give him whatever movement he needs to see. Meanwhile, we find that room.”
“And the Bratva?” Ilya asked.
Nikola's gaze shifted between them.
“There is no choice to make.”
His hand settled against the jacket pocket concealing Anika's note.
“I will bring Anika and Elizabeth home. I will remain Pakhan.”
A lethal stillness entered his expression.
“And when they are safe…”
He looked back at Dmitri’ froze image on the screen.
“…I will make him regret believing he could take either from me.”