I’m sorry, Dominic. I’m so fucking sorry.
My eyelids grew heavy, my eyes swollen from crying. I let sleep take over because the idea of being awake terrified me.
The kings will find me. They will. I know they will.
It was the only thing I could cling to as I drifted off.
CHAPTER33
Vincent
Baby B.
Gone.
Someone took my baby B.
We tore off to Hail’s room after grabbing weapons. I knew Dom was on the verge of murdering someone. Levin too. And me? I was trying to keep my shit together. All I cared about was getting her back.
I’d lived through being taken by the horsemen with her. I knew what her fear looked like. What her screams sounded like. It gutted me to think she was stuck somewhere, terrified and begging for mercy.
I ground my teeth as we stalked to Ivanov’s room. Loud music could be heard out in the hallway.
A party.
It better not be a fucking celebratory party.
Dom kicked the door open. It banged against the wall, and he stepped inside with his gun raised.
“What the fuck?” Ivanov shouted, jumping to his feet. The girl who had been sucking his dick toppled to the floor.
I took in the layout. Similar to our rooms. Large. Sitting room. Bedroom. Bathroom. Too many people and smoke. Coke lines on the table.
“Where the fuck is my wife?” Dom demanded, not bothering with a nicer greeting. “Tell me where she is, and I won’t blow your fucking head off.” He leveled the gun on Ivanov’s face.
Ivanov had the decency to look afraid for once in his life as he stuffed his dick back into his pants.
“Man, are you fucking drunk? She’s not here.” Ivanov held his hands up and glared.
“Don’t even fucking think about it.” Levin snarled, pointing his gun at one of the disciples who was trying to reach for a knife on the table. “Believe me when I say I have no problem pulling this fucking trigger.”
The guy backed away and held his hands up.
“Where are the rest of your fuck boys?” I demanded.
Trent, Drake, and Tate stepped out of the crowd, their hands up. Fallon emerged a moment later, a hard glare on his face.
Dom moved his gun from Hail and pointed it at Fallon.
“Where’s my wife, Vasiliev?”
“What?” He crinkled his brows and held his hands up.
“She’s gone. Someone took her.” He threw the note at Fallon. “I want to know where she is, and I want to know right fucking now. You have about three seconds to tell me before I start shooting.”
A few girls sobbed in the room. Stella wiggled out and looked at us, worry on her face.
“I haven’t seen her. I swear it,” Fallon said tightly.