Ever since learning the truth about Aleksei, the only thing I’ve wanted to do is spend every waking hour looking for him. I hardly want sleep to rob me of time.
I have the best of my brigadiers on the streets for this mission,but I want to be out there twenty-four seven, leaving no stone unturned until I find my boy.
It’s been a little over six weeks since I began my pursuit to find Aleksei and my patience is already gone.
He’s been missing for nine years, so I knew it was going to be difficult to find him.Knowing that, however, doesn’t make it any easier to deal with and it’s torture knowing everything is out of my control.
The longer I search for him and turn up with nothing, the more fractured my mind becomes.
I march upstairs and get cleaned up. I’m going to see what little I can salvage with the remainder of the day.
When I step out of my bedroom, Irina is at the doorstep with a tray of food.
She looks at me with kind eyes and worry etched in her brows the same way she used to when I was a boy and I’d get in trouble for one thing or another. She’s one of the few members of staff I have from my father’s house, and one of the few who aren’t scared of me.
I see she’s brought one of my favorite casseroles in hope I’ll eat tonight. But I’m going to tell her the same thing I have every night since I began my search.
“Take it away. I don’t want it.”
“But you haven’t eaten dinner in days,” she answers, her Russian accent strong even though she’s worked for my family in the states since before I was born.
“I’ll eat when I can.” I do to keep my strength up, grabbing what I can here and there. I can’t remember when I actually sat at the dinner table and ate though.
I walk away from her and she knows to leave me alone.
I’m not in the mood for shit from anybody, even if they’re showing concern for my welfare.
I make my way back downstairs and walk through the dining room, stopping when I catch sight of the only thing I was able to recover from the fire that destroyed the house I shared with Gabriella and Aleksei.
It’s a wrought iron figurine of a fairy with a little bird in her hands. I have it resting on the mantel piece. I gave it to Gabriella when we got married.
When I first moved here a few years ago, I put it up as a reminder of what I had in the past.
Looking at it now reminds me someone betrayed me that night.
Betrayal is most assuredly the only thing that makes sense about that night so long ago when my family was taken from me.
Betrayal doesn’t excuse my guilt in what lured my enemies to my doorstep, but it’s something I need to be aware of if I hope to find my son.
Someone found out what I did and used it against me.
I don’t know who it was, but that someone could only be a person who was close enough to track me.And the only people like that are those I keep close.
I look away from the figurine and make my way to my office.
The window is still open from this morning and the computer ready and waiting.
I sit down and I take out my files from the bottom drawer of the desk.
This file is where I always start when things go wrong.
Pulling out all the documents, I lay them out on the table.
It’s evidence of my boy’s survival.
And a name.
One fucker who’s dead when I find his ass.