Silence for two seconds. Then a knowing laugh. "Don't tell me—the sweetheart from the auction?"
I didn't answer.
Dmitri was fully awake now. "She actually ran?"
"Search. Every station. Airport. Highway exit. All of them."
I hung up and set the phone on the desk. My palm was sweating.
I looked down and noticed a Post-it note under the edge of the desk.
Outside, pale morning light swept past the corner of my eye.
My heart twisted.
What was she feeling when she left?
I couldn't guess.
But I knew one thing—she probably wasn't coming back.
Chapter Ten
Ivan & Anna
Ivan
Five Years Later.
I'd been living in New York for five years.
Officially, the company needed someone to oversee the new branch. But I knew the truth—I stayed because I was waiting for someone.
She never showed. Anna never showed.
Dmitri dug into her background for me. Turns out Anna Bennett was too common a name. There were over a hundred in New York alone. We checked every single one. Wrong age, wrong face, wrong history—none of them fit. She vanished like a drop of water in the ocean. Not even a ripple.
Last winter, I saw a woman in Central Park with her silhouette. Cream knit scarf, honey-gold hair brushing her shoulders. I stood by the frozen lake with a hot coffee in my hand, watching for a long time.
Missing someone doesn't fade. It's a seed buried in your chest. You think it's dead, and then one frozen afternoon, one familiar profile—it sprouts again.
Victoria came around a few times too. Same as ever. No regrets. Every conversation circled back to Nadia, using our daughter like a skeleton key.
But I stopped giving her openings.
I cut off every resource she'd piggybacked off the Volkov name. Every connection she'd leveraged as the "Pakhan's ex-wife." Within six months, her polished socialite life crumbled.
"Daddy."
Nadia's voice came from behind me.
I turned.
She'd grown. She wore a soft yellow dress, and when she smiled, a shallow dimple appeared at the corner of her mouth. She'd turned into a beautiful little girl.
She ran toward me, clutching a piece of paper that flapped in the wind.
"Daddy." She was breathless. She held the drawing up to my face. "Look."