Page 108 of The Bratva Sinner

We’re thinking the same thing. Another woman killed? Or was she working with them?

I can’t trust anyone, and I hate it.

Cinder is waiting on the front steps with her arms crossed over her chest when we pull up.

I walk up the steps. “Talk.”

She falls into step beside me as we go inside. The house is quiet. The women who are still here have retreated to their rooms. I feel the tension. These houses usually have music playing, and the general conversations you’d expect from a house full of women.

This is not normal.

“Housemother did the six o’clock check. Everyone was accounted for. At seven-thirty, she went back to Haylie’s room because Haylie missed dinner and she was worried.” Cinder leads me up the stairs. “This is what she found.”

She pushes open the door.

Haylie’s room looks normal. Everything is too neat. The bed is made. Her personal items are gone from the vanity, but her phone sits on the nightstand like she placed it there on purpose. It’s the phone I provide for each woman to contact their clients. Clients are never given their personal numbers, and the phones can be easily tracked.

I open a few drawers. There are some clothes, but not a typical wardrobe.

“She wanted us to know she left,” I say.

“Or she wanted whoever took her to think she left willingly.” Cinder stops in the doorway. “We don’t know which.”

I turn to look at her. “Your gut?”

“She was scared enough to run.” She holds my gaze. “Which means someone got to her. Convinced her that staying here was more dangerous than leaving.”

“Arlind.”

“Who else?”

I move to the window and look down at the street.

“I want to know where she went,” I say. “Not to bring her back; I need to know she’s safe. Have you called her? Not our phone, but hers.”

“No shit,” Cinder snaps. “Obviously.”

“Just asking.”

“I know.” Cinder’s voice shifts slightly. “Maksim, you need to think about what you’re doing.”

“I’m very aware of what I’m doing.”

“Every time you hit him, he hits back. And he’s not hitting you. He’s hitting the people around you because he knows that hurts you more.” She spreads her hands. “Is this going to stop? I need to know. The women in this house need to know. They need to decide if staying is worth the risk, and they can’t make that decision if I can’t give them an honest answer.”

“I’m handling it.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because I am.”

“Maksim, is she worth it? All of this. Is one woman worth what this is costing?”

Something cold and possessive moves through me.

I look at Cinder and try my best to remember that I love her like a sister. She holds my glare, which takes more nerve than most people have. She isn’t afraid of me. She knows I would never hurt her.

But she is pushing me right up to the fucking edge.