Crown of Hate (Soulless Empire)

Chapter 18

18

MIKHAIL

“What the hell do you mean she’s missing?” My voice explodes through the phone.

It’s almost evening, hours since Alya and her guards left for the shelter. I’d rushed home early, hoping to cozy up with my wife for our movie night, but now Dimitri just called to drop this bomb.

“I’m sorry, chief,” Dimitri’s voice crackles through the line. “We’ve been combing the streets non-stop, but it’s like she vanished into thin air. No trace, nothing.”

“Well, you better find her, or I’ll skin you both alive. First day on the job and you’ve already fucked up.” I end the call and slam the phone down on the table, my fingers twitching with the urge to crush it.

In a flash, my fist connects with the wall. Pain shoots through my hand, but it’s nothing compared to the ache in my heart. Fuck, Alya. Where are you?

“Easy, man. We’ll find her,” Alexei tries to soothe, but his calm tone only grates on my nerves.

I level him with a glare so frigid it could freeze hellfire. “How the hell am I supposed to take it easy when my wife is god knows where?? What if some bastard’s got her tied up in a basement somewhere?”

Alexei holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “We’ll find her. Wherever she is.”

“Damn right we will.” I’ll tear this whole fucking continent apart brick by brick just to find her, and if I don’t, God knows the havoc I’ll wreck on this planet.

Snatching up my phone, I dial Alya’s number, praying she’ll pick up. It bleeps before it goes straight to voicemail. My frustration builds in my throat as I try two more times, met with the same maddening result. Where are you, Alya? Why aren’t you answering? Fuck.

Turning to Semyon, I bark, “Get the car ready and round up the boys. We’re going to the shelter.”

Semyon nods and leaves. I pace the living room, my mind racing. No matter how I think of it, there’s only one son of a bitch who’d dare take Alya—Akim. The thought of his hands on her makes my blood boil.

The second Semyon returns, I grab the keys and bolt. My bodyguards scramble to keep up as I tear out of the house.

As we speed through the city, their radios crackle with updates on the search for Alya.

Despite their efforts, panic is seeping deeper into my veins with every passing moment. This isn't how tonight was supposed to go. I should be cuddled up with my wife on the couch right now, lost in a movie and each other’s arms. Instead, I'm hurtling through the streets like a man possessed man, my heart splintering as the minutes slip away.

The shelter’s an hour away from my mansion, but I make it there in twenty, tires screeching as I slam to a halt.

Sophia, Alya’s best friend, is pacing outside, biting her nails. The moment she sees me, she rushes over with tears welling in her eyes. “Mr. Zirkhov. I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault. Now I need you to calm down and tell me exactly what happened.”

She sniffles and wipes her face with the back of her hand. “There were two men here. It isn’t the first time I’ve seen them. One of them bumped into Alya, and after they left, she found a note in her pocket.”

My breath catches in my throat. Shit. I know exactly where this is leading. “What did the note say?”

She shakes her head, eyes filling with fresh tears. “She wouldn’t let me see it, just rushed out after reading it. At first, I thought she was going to the bathroom, but she never came back. That’s when I knew something was wrong. I checked, and she was gone.”

“Do you have any CCTV footage?”

She nods. “I do. Inside. You can come see for yourself.”

We’re about to enter when my phone buzzes. Alya’s name flashes on my screen, and my heart damn near stops.

I hold my breath, my hands trembling as I swipe to answer. “Alya?”

A beat of silence, then her voice, small and broken, cuts through. “Mikhail… Can you come pick me up?”

“Where the hell are you?” The words come out harsher than I intend, but I’m barely holding it together. My patience is fraying, caught between relief and worry—I can’t let myself relax until she’s in my arms, safe.

“I don’t know. I’ll share my location.”

My phone pings, and I glance at the map—she’s way out on the outskirts of Chicago, at least two hours away. One, if I drive like a madman. “Stay put. Don’t move a muscle. I’m coming for you, malyshka.”

Alexei and Semyon’s eyes bore into me, but it’s Sophia who speaks up first, voice tight with concern. “Where is she? Is she okay?”

I don’t have time to reassure her. Instead, I look at Semyon, my voice clipped. “I’ll send her location. Check the CCTV and get me a copy to see later. Make sure Sophia is taken care of.” Before he can respond, I’m already running to my car, engine roaring to life before I’ve even fully shut the door. Then I peel out of the parking lot, leaving a cloud of dust in my wake.

This isn't just about finding Alya; it's about making sure she isn’t hurt.

The GPS in my car guides me through the labyrinth of the city to a secluded area on the outside. I screech to a halt near a small dilapidated house that matches her location. My heart pounds like a war drum—she’s in there, waiting for me.

I can’t shake the thought of her alone, scared out of her mind, wondering if I’d ever arrive. I race towards the house and burst through the door. “Alya!” I call out, my voice reverberating through the dark, eerie room.

When my vision adjusts, I see her, standing in the middle of the room, trembling and wide-eyed. “Mikhail.”

“Alya.” I cross the distance between us in seconds and gather her into my arms, feeling her tremble against me.

She’s alive. She’s here. She’s safe.

She breaks down, sobbing into my chest. I hold her tight, my own eyes stinging with unshed tears. The relief is overwhelming, but so is the lingering fear and rage. Who did this to her?

Carefully, I take off my suit jacket and drape it over her shoulders. “Are you hurt anywhere, malyshka?”

She shakes her head, still sobbing.

“I'm so glad you're safe.” The words come out ragged, laced with relief and guilt. “I'll never let anything happen to you again. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

Cupping her face, I gently wipe away her tears. “Let's go home now.”

She nods, sniffling, and together we make our way back to the car, leaving that godforsaken place behind.

The drive home is silent, tension thick in the air. I keep glancing at her, reassuring myself that she’s really here, safe beside me.

When we arrive back at the mansion, Semyon and Alexei are waiting at the entrance, faces grim. I help Alya out and guide her inside, my hand protective at the small of her back. I’ll be damned if I let her out of my sight again.

Grace emerges from the kitchen, her face creased with concern. “Goodness, are you okay?” she asks Alya, whose eyes are swollen from crying.

“I’m fine,” she says weakly, but we all know it’s a lie. My wife’s entire being radiates fragility. I’ve never seen her so vulnerable before, and it kills me.

“I’ll get you some hot chocolate,” Grace offers. I nod my approval, and she disappears back into the kitchen.

My mind races as I lead Alya upstairs. What happened to her? How can I fix this?

“Do you want something to eat? You only had breakfast,” I say as I help her onto the bed.

She shakes her head, her voice heavy with exhaustion. “I can’t eat. I just want to shower and sleep.”

“Alright. But drink your chocolate first.” The bed dips under my weight as I sit next to her. “Can you tell me what?—”

A knock on the door cuts me off. Grace enters with a steaming cup of hot chocolate, and I take it from her. “Thank you, Grace.”

She nods. “Let me know if she needs anything else.”

“I will.”

I hand the cup to Alya and she takes it. My heart races as I watch her wrap her trembling fingers around the cup, seeming to draw comfort from its warmth. She takes a careful sip, and the warmth spreads through her, bringing a hint of calm and color back to her pale face.

It's nice to see her visibly relax, but my own comfort won’t come until I find out who dared to take her—and make them pay.

“What happened?” I ask again, more insistent this time.

Her big brown eyes grow wide. “Nothing happened. I just needed some time alone.”

“You’re good at many things, malyshka, but lying isn’t one of them.” I see the truth in her eyes—something happened, and she’s either too afraid to say it, or… Fuck. I swipe a hand over my face, frustration mounting. What the hell is she hiding? Why won’t she trust me? “Something definitely happened. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Nothing happened,” she insists, standing abruptly and placing the cup of hot chocolate on her vanity table. “I need a shower now.”

I open my mouth to argue, but then she presses a finger on her lips, signaling for me to shut up. What the fuck? When she raises her hand, I see something that looks like a listening device, and my blood runs cold.

She sets it gently on the bed and motions for me to follow her into the bathroom. I do so without question.

Once we’re in the bathroom, I whisper, leaning close, “Where did you get that?”

Her throat bobs. “Akim was at the shelter today. He gave me that to bug your office. I agreed, but I can’t bring myself to go through with it.”

A tang of emotion surges through me—relief that she’s telling me, fury at Akim, fear for what this means. “Why?”

“Because he threatened to hurt my mama, and because I can’t betray you.” She reaches for my hand and squeezes it desperately. “Help me, please. Akim will hurt my mama, and I don’t think I can survive losing her. My mama is all I’ve got. You and her are all I have now.”

I don’t trust easily, but I believe her. The sincerity in her eyes is not something anyone can fake. Especially not Alya. This is Alya—my Alya. Scared, but still fighting.

Gently, I run my finger over her tear-stained cheek, wiping away her pain. “I’ll make sure your mama is safe, and deal with Akim. He won’t get near you again. That’s a promise.”

“Thank you,” she croaks out, relief flooding her face.

I pull her into a tight hug and hold her close. We stand there for a heartbeat before I break our embrace, though every instinct screams to keep her in my arms.

“Why did he bring you to that rundown house?” I ask before moving on, remembering where I found her.

Her eyes drop to the floor. “That bastard… after I took the listening device, I thought he’d let me go. Instead, he said something about how we needed to make it all seem real, like I was kidnapped against my will, so that you wouldn’t suspect I was working with him. So he locked me in his car and drove me to that awful place. He knew you’d find me eventually, but he said if I told you the truth, he’d-he’d…”

“It’s okay. I understand,” I soothe. “Now get in the shower. Wash his stink off you. I’ll meet with the guys and come right back up. Alright?”

She nods, sniffing away tears. “Alright.”

“That’s my girl.”

She walks into the shower, and I linger outside, watching through the glass.

The instant the water starts, I force myself out of the bathroom and dash down the hall to my office where Semyon and Alexei are already waiting. I skip the formalities and dive straight into orders. “Alexei, locate Alya’s mother and send some of our best men to guard her until her treatment is done. Tell them they’re dead if she gets so much as a paper cut. Understood?”

“On it, chief.” Alexei nods, already pulling out his phone.

“Semyon,” I say, pacing to my desk and leaning against it, fingers gripping the edge hard enough to turn my knuckles white, “get one of our best hackers. Akim gave Alya a listening device. It must be connected to his phone. We need to hack into it, track his location at all times. And we need a Plan B.”

They both narrow their eyes on me. “Plan B? What was Plan A?” Semyon asks, brow furrowed.

“Using the truth against Akim.” My stomach churns with bitterness at how disgusting my plan makes me feel.

“What truth?”

“… Akim is Alya’s biological father.”

“Shit.”

Leaking that news to the Russian Bratva would strip Akim of respect for betraying his Pakhan. It would also put him at odds with Boris, who’ll try to save his puppet throne, which would give me the perfect opening to strike.

But I can’t bring myself to use that plan now, not when I know how much it will hurt Alya. She’ll never forgive me if that happens, and God knows I’d rather give everything up than have her hate me.

“Fuck me…”

Both Semyon and Alexei are gaping at me like I’ve grown horns.

Minutes have passed—Alya is most likely out of the shower by now. Whatever questions they have for me will have to wait until tomorrow. “Alexei, have updates on tonight’s orders by morning.” I shift my focus to Semyon. “You’ll get the listening device tomorrow. Akim will expect us to hack it tonight if Alya betrays him. He can’t know she did until her mother is safe.”

They nod, still reeling, and I turn around to leave, mind already racing with strategies and alternatives. But as I open the door, I freeze. Big brown eyes meet mine, wide with shock and… something else—betrayal? Fear? “Alya?”

She looks past me to Semyon and Alexei, then back to me. Her voice is barely a whisper, but it might as well be a scream. “Did I just hear you say Akim Petrov is my father?”