“Already on it.”
Another message arrives. No photo this time. Just text.
She came when I called. Maybe she remembers who she belonged to first.
My hand tightens again.
Viktor sees my face and says, “Don’t answer.”
I almost laugh. “Do I look like I want to text him?”
“You look like you want to go alone and kill him with your hands.”
I look at him. “I’m going to kill him. Now let’s go.”
“Where?” he asks bewildered.
“I will tear down the city to find her,” I say, walking out the room before he can reply.
My phone rings before the car reaches the main road.
Larisa.
For half a second, I consider ignoring it.
Then I answer. “This is not the time.”
Her voice comes through cool and dry. “You don’t want to know where your wife is?”
Everything in me goes still.
Viktor looks at me immediately.
I sit straighter. “What did you say?”
“I said I know where Anya is.”
My hand tightens around the phone. “And how do you know that?”
Larisa makes a small sound, impatient and unimpressed. “Because unlike the rest of the house, I didn’t mistake that girl’s pretty face for innocence.”
My jaw locks. “Careful.”
“No,” she says sharply. “You be careful. I warned you about her.”
“She was taken.”
“Was she?” Larisa asks. “Or did she leave?”
The photo flashes in my head again.
Dmitri’s mouth on hers. Her hand against his chest. My ring on her finger.
Rage climbs back up my throat, but I force it down. Larisa wants reaction. She always does.
“Say what you know,” I tell her.
“I knew the girl had ill intentions.”