Page 107 of The Bratva Sinner

“There was an incident at one of the houses,” he says. “Boss has it under control, but he wants you back at the house. Now.”

“What kind of incident?”

“The kind that means we need to move. Get on the horse.”

My hands are shaking as I grab the saddle horn and pull myself up. He hops in the side-by-side and leads the way. Outlaw senses the urgency and starts galloping toward the barn.

And all I can think is, “Not again.”

I can’t lose anyone else.

28

Maksim

My phone vibrates in my pocket while Damien is telling me about the new liquor provider. As usual, Damien did his thing and negotiated a better price.

Things are slowly getting back on track. I’m hoping Arlind finally understands I’m not fucking around. I gave him money. This beef is over. I have the power of the bratva behind me. His shitty little operation will not intimidate me. He can have thousands of women, but Lila is mine.

I check the screen and see it’s Cinder. That’s another problem I need to deal with. Cinder and I have our little spats, but she doesn’t approve of my situation with Lila.

“What’s up?” I answer.

“Haylie is gone.”

“Gone?”

“Housemother went to check on her for the evening brief. Room’s empty. Bag’s gone. Phone’s here.”

A phone left behind means she didn’t want to be tracked. Or she couldn’t take it.

“How long?”

“Best guess, two to three hours. No one saw her leave.”

I press two fingers against the bridge of my nose. “Pull every camera on the block. Check the ride-share apps. Talk to every woman in that house.”

“Already doing all of that.” A pause. “Maksim.”

“Don’t.”

“Someone got to her. Or she ran because she was scared enough that running made more sense than staying.” Another pause, longer this time. “You know what this is.”

I do. Haylie doesn’t go anywhere without her phone.

“Get everyone looking,” I say. “Every contact, every friend, every place she’s mentioned more than once.”

“I’ve got people on it.” I hear her exhale. “You need to come here.”

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

I hang up and turn back to Damien. He reads my face and closes the folder in his hand.

“Who?” he asks.

“Haylie.”

“Shit.”