Chapter 132 The Hidden Wolf
The wind picked up, lashing harder against the stone walls of the manor, howling in lamentation as Kael pushed his men to scour every inch of the estate’s perimeter. The ostensibly tranquil snow day had deteriorated into a full-blown blizzard, leaving them with a narrow window to locate any traces before the weather erased them entirely. A pack of hounds had been released to track Lilia’s scent, but the few footprints found in the slush led only to the forest’s periphery before vanishing.
The power had finally been restored; the low, lethal hum of the electric fence could be heard even a hundred meters away. However, the only evidence remaining in the snow—marks left by Copper’s hooves and a series of fading boot tracks—confirmed Kael’s darkest fear: Lilia had been taken.
Where are you, kukla?
Kael’s thoughts were a jagged mess. He swept his eyes across the white sheet of ice surrounding him, hoping she would miraculously appear through the fog. But the landscape remained void and empty.
The sound of crunching snow signaled the approach of one of his lead trackers.
“Master, we’ve secured the headcount. Every member of the personnel has been accounted for, except for one.”
Kael gave the man his full attention. The wind was growing harsher by the minute, threatening to turn the search into a suicide mission. “Who?”
“Donato Markov.”
“Fuck!” Kael roared, his hand curling into a fist so tight his nails drew blood from the heel of his palm.
Donato Markov. He was one of the personal bodyguards Kael had assigned to secure the perimeter back in Italy. The man had been hiding in plain sight, spying on Lilia, waiting for the perfect moment of domestic distraction to strike. He was undoubtedly the one who had sabotaged the powerhouse before intercepting Lilia at the fences to make his escape.
Kael knew little of the man’s background. His data was tucked away in a folder in the study, vetted by Val. If Donato had successfully infiltrated the inner circle of the Aslanov estate, this move had been planned long before they ever left Italian soil.
But the "how" was less important than the "who." Who had paid him? Was it the Committee testing his authority? Had Sabina already called her father, the old vulture Antonov, to demand retribution? Or was it a ghost from his past?
“Who is he working for?” Kael asked through gritted teeth. He was losing his grip on his temper, fear for Lilia’s safety twisting in his chest like a rusted blade.
“Sir Val has the records. He’s waiting in your study,” the tracker replied stiffly, sensing the seething rage radiating off his master.
“Tell the men to remain vigilant. Watch the fences. Kill anyone discovered slacking off,” Kael ordered sternly before turning back toward the mansion. He didn’t care if he lost more men to the cold; he only cared about the one person who wasn't there.
Kael ignored the biting cold seeping through his shirt as he plowed through the deepening snow. His mind was a gallery of gruesome ways to kill the bastard who had touched his woman. Underneath the rage, however, was a gnawing dread. Lilia was his world—his everything. He had struggled to express it, often masking his affection with possessive commands, but the thought of her in pain was more than he could stomach.
He would tear through heaven, earth, and hell to find her. He had finally admitted to himself that he was in love, and he wouldn't let anyone steal his chance at happiness. He would unleash a wrath the world had never seen the moment he confirmed they had harmed even a single hair on her head.
He strode into the mansion, leaving a trail of melting snow across the foyer as he marched up the staircase. He flung the study door open with a violent bang. Val was standing by the desk, a folder already in hand.
“Donato Markov,” Kael growled, his voice a sneer of pure poison. “How did you fail to screen him?”
“He had a clean record,” Val responded calmly, unmoved by Kael’s outburst. “He aced the biometrics and showed high potential. He passed every test I gave him—and you were the one who gave the final approval.”
Kael felt a sting of guilt. He had been careless, and now Lilia was paying the price. He moved around his desk and sank into his chair, his breathing ragged. “When was he recruited?”
“A week before Lilia was purchased.”
“Fuck!” Kael slammed his fist onto the desk, rattling the stacks of paper. This wasn't a coincidence. It was a calculated infiltration. “Did the Committee call?”
“No, not yet,” Val replied.
“Then who is this motherfucker working for?”
If it wasn't the Committee, then it was a rival seeking to exploit his only known weakness. They thought they could bring him to his knees by taking his "pet," but they were wrong. She wasn't his weakness; she was the only thing worth fighting for.
“There’s something else you need to know,” Val said, his voice dropping an octave.
“What?”
Val hesitated, a rare sign of deliberation. “Back at the hospital in Italy... Lilia told me someone entered her room while she was semi-conscious. A man came to her bed and told her that he should have been the one to buy her, not you.”
The air in the room seemed to vanish. “When did she tell you this?” Kael grilled, a fresh wave of fury bubbling in his veins.
“Since she started her training.”
“And why am I only hearing this now?!” Kael’s temper finally nudged the edge. The demon inside him wanted to break everything in sight.
Val remained unfazed, dropping the folder onto the desk. “I was waiting until I could verify the identity of the visitor. I didn't want to give you a ghost to hunt.”
“Did you find him?”
Val nodded, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Ronan De Luca. Vittorio’s adopted son.”
Kael’s ears rang. The restraint he had been clinging to snapped in two. He roared, sweeping everything off his desk in one fluid motion, sending documents flying into the air like wounded birds.
“That lying old piece of shit! I knew he was hiding something when I confronted him!” Kael was trembling, his chest heaving. “Vittorio played me for a fool.”
“Ronan is the one who helped Flavio abduct her at the Grand Canal,” Val added, providing the final piece of the puzzle.
“Call the bastard!” Kael hissed, his voice dropping to a deadly, vibrating low.