Chapter 9

Zakhar's POV

I sat behind my office desk, staring at the endless pile of documents spread across it while the city lights flickered through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

I picked up another file and skimmed through it.

Numbers.

Names.

Reports.

More fucking numbers.

I sighed and tossed the file back onto the desk.

Sometimes, it was frustrating being both a Bratva Pakhan and the CEO of one of the largest business groups in the country.

Running a business empire was exhausting enough. Hotels needed managing. Clubs needed overseeing. Investments needed reviewing. Import and export contracts needed signing.

Then there was the security company.

And, of course, everything that came with being the Pakhan.

It was a lot to handle. But thank fuck, I was good at handling it.

Kirill stepped in without knocking.

I didn't bother looking up. I picked up another file and began flipping through it.

“We have a problem.”

“What is it?” I asked, still focused on the file in front of me.

“Ilya was doing his usual surveillance when he saw something rather odd. Remember the girl at the club, the one you couldn't stop scowling at during our very important meeting?” he asked.

“Yes, I remember. Where are you going with this?”

“She’s been kidnapped.”

That got my attention, and I looked up from the file.

I must have misheard him. Did he just say she was kidnapped?

“What do you mean by kidnapped?” I asked.

Kirill took that as a cue to continue.

“Ilya was monitoring the area when he noticed something unusual. He saw Maya following a man, so he kept an eye on them.”

I frowned.

“Why?”

“He wasn't sure. She seemed to be following him deliberately.”

“And then?”

“Things took a turn when three masked men showed up.”

“Took a turn, how?”

“They attacked her, then took her away,” he said, pulling out his phone from his pocket. He unlocked it and showed me the surveillance footage.

I took the phone from him and watched.

There she was, dressed in a black hoodie.

Maya.

She was following a man down an empty street, keeping a few steps behind him.

No doubt trying to be discreet.

I watched in silence as she stopped behind a wall, waiting for him to continue.

Then she followed him again.

My jaw tightened.

“What is she doing?” I asked, my eyes fixed on the screen.

“No idea.”

I didn't say anything. I just watched.

Then she held a knife to his neck.

What the fuck are you up to, Maya.

A few seconds later, three masked men appeared.

My eyes narrowed.

One of them approached her.

The footage wasn't clear enough for me to hear what they were saying, but I could tell she was fighting back.

Another one approached her from behind.

Shit.

Then someone struck her hard on the head, making her lose consciousness.

My grip tightened around the phone.

One of them dragged her toward the van before it sped off.

The screen went dark moments later.

I looked up at Kirill.

“When was this?”

“Yesterday evening,” he replied immediately.

Hmm.

“The location?”

He gave me the location.

I handed the phone back to him.

This stupid, reckless girl got herself kidnapped. God knows what kind of trouble she managed to get herself into.

For a moment, I considered leaving her there.

It wasn't my problem.

At least, that's what I told myself.

But I saw the way Mom looked at her, like she had adopted her.

I sighed.

I'm going to regret this.

“Tell Ilya to track that van down. And while you're at it, get some of my men ready. We're going to get her back.”

He smirked like he knew something I didn't and started typing on his phone. No doubt doing as I ordered.

What was that?

I didn't dwell on Kirill's strange reaction for long.

I grabbed my phone and headed for the door.

Kirill followed behind me, still looking far too amused for my liking.

“What?” I asked, feeling irritated.

“Nothing,” he said, that stupid smirk still on his face.

“Then wipe that smirk off your face,” I muttered.

He chuckled.

We made our way downstairs, where several of my men were already waiting.

Good.

“Any word from Ilya?” I asked.

“Yes, he said we should give him twenty minutes,” Kirill replied.

I nodded.

“Let's get going then.”

We stepped outside.

Several black SUVs were waiting by the entrance, their engines already running.

I stopped beside the first one.

“Everyone knows the plan, right?”

Kirill nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.”

I opened the door and got inside. Kirill following behind me.

Maya had been in my house for less than twenty-four hours, and she was already fucking everything up.

I exhaled slowly.

This better be worth it.

By the time we reached the location, the streets were almost deserted.

I got out of the SUV, my eyes immediately scanning the area.

The city lights barely reached this part of town, leaving long stretches of darkness between the abandoned buildings.

Cool air brushed my face.

The place was quiet. Too quiet.

An old, rundown building stood ahead, its windows dark and its walls weathered by years of neglect. The place looked like the kind of building people avoided after sunset.

“This is where he said he lost track of the van,” Kirill said as he walked beside me.

“Where are the others?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the building.

“They’re watching the premises.”

I nodded.

Something about this place didn't sit well with me.

Then I heard gunshots coming from inside.

My men immediately moved to my side, their guns raised.

With my gun already out, I signaled for my men and Kirill to stay quiet as we moved toward the building without making a sound.

Then the door flew open.

Everyone immediately raised their guns, only to see…

Maya?!

What the fuck?

She was covered in blood from head to toe. She was now in a black sports bra, her hoodie nowhere to be seen.

A thorny rose tattoo was visible on her ribs, along with a Roman numeral tattoo below her waist.

She stood there with a bloodied knife in hand, casually rolling her eyes at us.

“Of course, you are here,” she said with an attitude, as if she didn't look like she'd just taken a bloodbath.

Kirill swore under his breath, while everyone stared at her, their eyes wide with caution.

She looked at us, then glanced down at herself.

“Oh, this isn't mine.” She shrugged.

“Who the hell are you?” I demanded, my gun pointed at her head.