Page 82 of Claimed By the Damned
Grim’s jaw tightens. "The timestamp puts it nearly two hours ago. It happened while we were in here, focused on Kolya. We missed the initial alerts."
Ryker slams his fist onto the table, sending papers flying. "Two hours? Fuck! We need to move. Now."
Bastian’s hands curl into fists at his sides. "Find out where they went. We’re getting her back."
Chaos explodes in the war room, but all I can hear is the pounding of my own heart echoing the image on the screen. Lila is gone.
And the image burns behind my eyes—walking away.Willingly?
Chapter 25: Betrayed by Hope
Kolya
My Pet. Even the grainy, flickering footage can't mute the memory of her hair, how it deepens to rich, dark brown in the right light. I watch her image on the large monitor in my penthouse office; a live feed piped directly from the discreet camera I had installed opposite her little flower shop in that dreary coastal town.
A necessary precaution, a little eye I put in place shortly after the...unfortunate failureof my men's initial attempt to retrieve her. She is skittish, clever, but ultimately predictable. Even on screen, I see the way she glances over her shoulder, always wary, always looking for danger.Years. I’ve spent years burrowing inside her head until my voice became as familiar as her own thoughts.
She thinks she’s free.
She is wrong.
I smirk and swirl the dark amber liquid in my glass, the ice clinking softly. Patience is key. I’ve always been patient. My attention shifts from the live feed of Lila moving inside the shop to the secure line on my desk, the call already connected.
On the other end, a few states away, is Luke Bradley. I can picture him, shifting uncomfortably, letting the silence from my end build, letting him sweat under its perceived weight. Desperation practically oozes through the receiver. A man with too many vices and not enough of a spine. Gambling debts, drug habits, an unfortunate fondness for women he can’t afford—the ideal leverage.
“My operative confirmed the letter was delivered to you, Bradley, as instructed. You have it,” I state, my voice flat, leaving no room for doubt inmyknowledge of the situation. The letter itself, a masterpiece of manipulation, lies on the desk beside myglass – a copy, of course. I’d overseen every word. It’s the bait you will use to draw her out.
“Y-yes, Mr. Mikhailov,” Luke stammers over the line, his voice tight with nerves I can hear even across the distance. “I… I have it. I’ll give it to her when I approach her. Make sure she reads it right away.”
“And you’re certain she’ll believe its contents?” I ask, though I already know the answer.
There's a nervous swallow on his end. “I… I think so, sir. The details, like you said… they are specific. Once she reads it, she'll look… hopeful. Conflicted, but hopeful. That's what you want, right?”
I chuckle softly. “Of course, she will believe it, Bradley. People believe what they want to believe. And Lila? Shewantsto believe Theo is out there, waiting for her. Shewantsto believe in some ridiculous fairytale where she escapes me, and she can reconnect with that piece of her past.”
I can almost picture her tracing the lines of script when you hand it to her, her heart warring with the caution those men have undoubtedly tried to drill into her. I made sure the details were precise, irresistible bait for a soul starved of genuine connection.
I mentioned specific things so mundane, soreal, it will cut through her suspicion. I even included a plausible excuse for his silence, a story of being deep underground, unable to risk contact until now. And the crucial part: a desperate plea for her to meet him, just once, to know he’s okay, to give him a reason to keep fighting. Details designed to pluck the strings of her loyalty, her compassion, her buried, desperate hope.
I lean forward, my movements measured, deliberate, fixing my gaze on Lila’s distant image on the monitor as I speak into the phone, my smile chilling, all teeth, a hint of the predator beneath the polish. “She won’t escape. That fairytale isn't real."
A nervous cough from Luke. "And if she doesn’t fall for it? When I approach her, if she hesitates after reading it?”
My gaze on the screen hardens, though my voice to Luke remains cold and even. Dismissing his question with a tone that brooks no argument. “You willmakeher believe it, Bradley. Your performance must be flawless. Convincing. Because you want her to come willingly. It’s cleaner that way.”
I let that sink in before continuing, my voice dropping lower, colder. “However, should your limited talents prove insufficient… should she hesitate or requirefirmerencouragement after you’ve made contact, then your secondary objective is clear.”
I pause, letting the unspoken threat hang in the air between us, across the miles. “If persuasion fails, you will incapacitate her. Efficiently. A mild sedative or a single, precise blow—enough to ensure compliance without lasting damage. You will then get her into the vehicle my men will have waiting nearby. Is that understood?”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows; I can practically hear it. He nods quickly, uselessly, over the phone. "Y-yes, sir."
“But let me reiterate,” I add, my tone turning lethal. “She carries my child. My heir. If you cause heranypermanent harm, a scar, a broken bone,anythingthat jeopardizes her or the pregnancy, your debts will be the least of your concerns. The consequences will be painful. And I will know.”
Luke pales visibly, I’m sure, even if I can’t see him. "Yes, Mr. Mikhailov. Understood. No harm. I'll be careful."
I lean back, still watching Lila on the screen. "See that you are. You have far more to lose here than I do." I end the call without waiting for a reply.
Luke leads her through the alley behind that flower shop she works at. I see it all through the small screen in my hand, the live feed from my men as they track their every move.
