Chapter 5 Get Me The Girl (I)

Maksim was livid. He had been since they left Nightfall Hills. He paced his office, going unbelievably still when his right-hand man, Ivan, entered. The curtains were closed, how he liked it, and the entire place was dark, save for the corner light and lamp on the table. He snapped his fingers, a sign for the man to talk immediately. “Did you find her yet?” he asked. Ivan stood at ease, a wire curling from his ear to inside his suit collar. “Not yet, boss.” Rage coursed through Maksim’s veins. He sank into his chair and laughed bitterly. “Boss?” Maksim said, disgust slithering into his voice. He gripped the armrests so hard his nails broke. God help that lady because if he found her, he would wipe her off the face of the earth. She should have taken the subtle warning the priest gave him. No one, not even the don, the Grand Sinner himself, could end a wedding. “You have twelve hours to find that young lady, or boss, will be the last word on your lips as I snuff the life out of you.” “Yes, Karan.” Ivan started for the door, and Maksim raised his hand. “Wait. Who was manning the church’s door?” Silence fell upon them as Ivan spoke to whoever was transmitting information to him. “Boss, it was Boris and Dmitri,” Ivan finally answered. “Get them here,” Maksim commanded. As the man made to leave his office, he added, “Don’t come in with them. Oh, and if you think I forgot, I haven’t. Your time starts now, Ivan. Find the girl or die. Tick. Tick.” After a curt nod, Ivan left. Yanking the last drawer of his table open, Maksim closed his hand around his gun. In the first drawer was the ring and pregnancy test result she so kindly slapped across his chest. By God, she would pay. And if she had to do it in her blood, so be it. His troubles started the second he agreed to stop at the store to pick Mila’s order. If Papa hadn’t insisted, Maksim wouldn’t have left Sin City for Nightfall Hills. He should have known that lady had a loose screw in her head the second she started recording him. He had never met her in his life before that day, and he thought destroying her phone would put an end to that madness. But now he knew the only way she would fully go away was if she was buried six feet under. A knock on the door had his head raising. “Voydite,” Maksim said, his Russian accent slipping into the order. The church didn’t allow cameras, so they had nothing but words to show for the lady’s presence. The twins entered and shut the door. His finger alternated between them. “Which one of you allowed a stranger into a Kalashnikovs wedding? A lady. Brown hair. Blue dress.” Boris and Dmitri shared a look, but it was Boris who told him, “She had an invitation.” No sooner were those words out of his lips when Maksim shot him. One bullet straight to the middle of his forehead. A headshot like he loved it. Boris fell to the ground like a wet log of wood. A whimper tore out of his twin brother’s lips. But all Maksim did was blow air over the tip of his gun. On his feet, Maksim stalked to them. Blood dripped from the bullet wound onto his maroon Persian rug, staining it. He placed the gun on Dmitri’s forehead. The guard shivered, tears filling his eyes to the brim. “You want to live?” Maksim asked. The tears made it hard to tell the colour of Dmitri’s eyes, not that he cared about that shit. But he loved looking into people’s eyes before terminating them. Plus, the eyes never lied. Right now, Dmitri’s was filled with tears and hurt. Point was taken. “Get me the girl. You have twelve hours.” The only reason Maksim gave him twelve hours was because the journey to Nightfall Hills by road could take a few hours. “Yes, boss.” “Get out of my office. Send someone to pick this up,” he said, kicking the leg of the dead man to be sure he hadn’t by some miracle survived. Given the consequences Maksim would suffer later from Papa, he considered death a fair sentence for Boris. “Send a cleaner, too. The clock is ticking.” Sinking back into his leather seat, Maksim pulled out the pregnancy test and ring. The gold was fake. He would never give out fake jewellery to anyone, let alone a lady he was courting. That was where she went wrong. Two, what kind of hospital was this? He picked up his phone, and a quick internet searched revealed there was no hospital by that name in Sin City or Nightfall Hills. If this was some sort of sick joke on her part, she picked the wrong person. He hated jokes. The iPhone Maksim took from her still had the cracks. He pressed on the buttons until the screen flickered on, the cracks on it looking like distended webs. Her password was something stupid. He had spied on her while she inputted it. He typed it in, and a sadistic grin spread over his lips. It worked.