“Sir.”
The guard snaps me out of the seething and immobilizing anger threatening to take over.
He’s standing rigid under the weight of my glare. “I did some digging on the woman Eva was with the other day. Her friend, Halsey.”
I stand in the security room—a repurposed office tucked away on the mansion’s ground floor—staring at the bank of monitors like they might cough up Eva’s location on the spot. They don’t, of course. The only images we have are from our own estate’s cameras, showing empty hallways and late-night staff from two nights ago, right around the time she snuck out.
I narrow my eyes. “And?”
“She works in media. I pulled her address, figured it might give us a lead. Then I found CCTV footage from outside of a storefront near Halsey’s place.”
“Play it,” I order.
He opens his tablet and pulls up the footage, grainy, low-res street cam, but it’s clearly Eva. Hoodie pulled low, duffel slung over her shoulder. My chest tightens at the sight of her.
“That’s her walking toward the subway entrance near Halsey’s building. Timestamp checks out,” the guard says, tapping the screen.
I move closer. “Zoom in.”
He moves through the footage slowly, frame-by-frame. Eva pauses on the sidewalk at one point, talking to a man. His face is partially obscured. My jaw clenches.
“Stop. Who the hell is that?”
“Still working on an ID,” he says. “Could be useful, could be nothing.”
I sigh heavily. “So she was meeting someone.”
“Or someone met her. After she left, I ran a trace on her phone. It pinged briefly near Halsey’s building, then nothing. Halsey appears to be out of town.”
I go still. “You’re telling me that Eva’s gone dark and there’s no sign of this Halsey?”
“Yes, sir. So far, no sign of either one of them since the footage.”
I stare at the screen, the frozen image of Eva burning into my vision. Something isn’t adding up. “Play it again.”
A man steps into the frame. He’s tall and broad, wearing a long coat with the collar up. He brushes past her, but I notice the smallest sleight of hand. Eva pauses after he walks past, her hand slipping into her pocket.
“Back it up,” I order.
He rewinds the footage, slowing it down.
“There,” I say, pointing. “See that? He dropped something into her pocket. That’s not just some stranger.”
“Exactly what I thought,” the guard agrees as he freezes the footage. “I couldn’t get facial recognition to lock in on him. The shadows are too heavy.”
I stare at the image, heart pounding. The posture. The profile of his face. The squared shoulders.
Suddenly it clicks.
Felix Sokolov.
A name I haven’t heard in years. Yuri Petrov’s closest friend. The man who vanished right after the Petrovs were wiped out.
I exhale slowly, the rage inside going nuclear. “We need to find out what he gave her.”
The guard nods grimly. “I know. We’ve captured nothing else since.”
My mind is racing. If Felix found her, it means the Bratva is sniffing around. Which also means…
I close the tablet with a snap.
“She didn’t mention any of this to me.”
My blood runs cold. What the hell is he doing with Eva?
I step back, pacing the room. “That was Felix, I’m sure of it.”
The guard glances at me. “Felix Sokolov?”
“Yes. That bastard shouldn’t even be in this city.” I rub my jaw. “He must’ve told her something, something that made her run.”
I’m going to find out what it was.
It doesn’t take long to track Felix Sokolov down, not when I still have friends in the NYPD and ties to the old neighborhood. Turns out, he’s been keeping a low profile in a quiet, unassuming apartment building in Brighton Beach. Nothing flashy, nothing suspicious. Just nice enough to blend in without drawing attention. The kind of place with manicured hedges, a doorman who doesn’t ask questions, and tenants who mind their own business.
I bring a small crew with me—just enough muscle to keep things calm if Felix decides to get clever. We roll up in tinted SUVs, parking discreetly down the block, not drawing a single curious glance in this part of town where privacy is the unspoken rule.
The breeze carries the scent of the ocean, briny and cool. Young moms stroll by with strollers, families play on the beach, a couple of old men involved in an intense game of chess nearby.
It’s almost laughable how normal it all looks.
Then I see him.
Felix slips out of the building’s side entrance, clutching a brown paper bag like he’s just picked up lunch from the corner deli. He’s wearing a nondescript jacket, ball cap pulled low. He lifts his head and our eyes lock. There’s an instant flicker of recognition then panic.
Good. He knows exactly who I am.
And he damn well knows what I’m capable of.
“Stop him!” I bark to my men, stepping out of the SUV.
Felix bolts, but my guys split up, two of them taking hold of him as he tries to run in the opposite direction, pulling him into a nearby alley and forcing him on his knees. I stride over, motioning for them to haul him up. He tries to shrug them off, but they grip his arms tight, forcing him to face me.
“Bellacino,” Felix snarls, breathing hard. “I figured you’d find me eventually.”
I tilt my head, voice ice-cold. “You engaged in contact with Eva Petrova. What did you tell her?”
His eyes dart around, looking for an escape. “All you need to hear is she knows the truth now.”
Rage burns within, but I keep my composure. “The truth? You mean your twisted version that pins her father’s death on me?”
He spits on the ground near my feet. “Not twisted. She saw the footage. She knows you met with her father’s killer right before the hit.”
My jaw clenches. “That’s not the whole story and you know it.”
Felix lets out a bitter laugh. “Do I? All I know is I told her to watch her back and she ran.” He glares at me and raises his chin, defiance etched on his face. “You won’t be able to keep her as your trophy if she despises you.”
My men tighten their hold, but I raise a hand, signaling for them to ease off. I step closer, dropping my voice. “Listen carefully, Felix. Eva doesn’t know everything. She saw one piece of footage that could easily mislead her.” My chest tightens as I think about what she must be going through. “I never gave the order to kill Yuri Petrov. That was out of my hands.”
Felix barks out a laugh. “You expect me to believe you? You Bellacino heirs were all too eager to clean out the Petrovs.”
A storm of guilt churns in my gut, and I grit my teeth. “Believe what you want, but Eva’s carrying my child. If you truly cared about her, you’d help me find her before she does something rash or gets hurt.”
His eyes narrow. “She’s pregnant?”
My men shift uneasily, but I stand firm. “Yes. And now she’s out there alone because you scared her off with half-truths.”
Felix looks away, a fleeting flicker of regret. “She has a right to know what happened,” he mutters. “Her father was shot down, and I know a Bellacino was behind it. Maybe not you personally, but—”
“Exactly. Not me, personally,” I cut him off. “I was part of that war, yes. But I didn’t kill Yuri, and I didn’t condone it either once I knew the facts.”
He scowls. “She’ll never believe you. Not after seeing that meeting on camera.”
I glare back at him. “We’ll see. In the meantime, you have one chance to help me find her. Who else knows she’s a Petrov and who else might come after her?”
Felix hesitates, clearly torn. Finally, he exhales, sagging in my men’s grip. “There are a few. The Abramovics suspect some Russians in the old Petrov territory. They’re the ones who gave me the footage, told me to make sure she sees it.”
A fresh wave of anger sears through me. “You delivered their message, so they control you now?”
He doesn’t deny it. “Times are hard. They pay well. Said it was for justice.”
I scoff. “Justice or revenge?”
He lifts a shoulder, defeated. “What’s the difference in this city?”
I stare at him, silent.
God, Eva, what have we done to push you away?
I motion to my men. “Let him go.”
They blink, surprised, but release Felix’s arms. He sways and rubs his wrists, eyes flicking between me and my men like he’s debating whether to bolt or beg.
I step closer, my voice dropping to a threat-laced whisper. “If you want Eva safe, you keep your mouth shut about her location. If you find out anything else, you come to me first. Understand?”
Felix’s jaw clenches, his eyes burning with defiance and fear. “Fine,” he snaps. “But you have no idea how deep this goes, Bellacino. They’re out for blood.”
“I’m used to it,” I growl. “Now get out of here.”
I watch him vanish around the corner, shoulders hunched, tail tucked. My crew waits for direction.
“We’re done here,” I say. “But keep an eye on him. If he tries to run or talks to anyone with Bratva ties, I want to know yesterday.”
“Yes, Boss.”
I linger a moment longer, staring down the quiet street as the sea breeze curls through the alley.
Out for blood.
They’re about to learn mine doesn’t spill easy.
