Page 146 of Bratva Menace

“Okay, enough,” Autumn said, slicing a hand through the air. She marched over and slapped his hand away just as his fingertips grazed the glass. “You’re not well enough to be out of bed and you know it.” Her gaze whipped to Aleksandr and me. “And you two shouldn’t be enabling him. If you need to conduct business, do it from the foot of his bed. You”—she pointed at Father—“up.”

Father didn’t even try to argue. “Yes, dear.”

There was no stopping the snicker that time.

Autumn grabbed his hand and helped him to his feet. He groaned again, leaning into her and resting more than half his body weight on her. Aleksandr and I immediately got up to help, but she waved us off.

“It’s alright. I got him.”

I wiggled my fingers, smiling. “Bye, Pops. Enjoy your rest.”

He just narrowed his eyes.

Yeahhhhh. I would pay for that later.

Aleksandr said his goodbyes and moved to shut the door behind them. He turned, plastering his back to the door, and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Go ahead.”

I dropped the facade and let the anger take over. “FOR FUCK’S SAKE!” I roared, grabbing one of the chairs and throwing it against the wall. “Why can’t I fucking find her?! WHY?!” I kicked the other chair over. “WHY?!” I picked it up and smashed it onto the ground. “WHY, WHY, WHY?!”

The chair broke, splintering to pieces under the force. I wasn’t even close to being done. I’d been burying my anger from the moment I got home because I promised I wouldn’t lose my shit near the twins, and it was my time to let it all fucking out.

“I don’t understand! How have we not found her yet?! We can find anyone! Fucking anyone! Why not her?! WHY!” I kicked. I punched. I screamed bloody fucking murder, letting all my emotions out. And Aleksandr stood there the entire time, not moving a muscle. Just watching.

He knew the drill by that point. This wasn’t the first time, after all. Or the second. Or the third. Every time I came home empty-handed, every time I came home without Lyla, I lost the fucking plot, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

After the first time, when I’d completely destroyed the downstairs living room, Aleksandr made me promise to come to him. Made me promise to find him, no matter where he was or what he was doing so he could be there to help me through it. To help pull me back. But it was getting harder and harder to do.

“SHE’S MINE!” I grabbed a full bottle of vodka from the drink cart and pegged it at the wall. Then another. Then another. Glass smashed all over the room. “MINE! MINE! MINE! She belongs with me! ME! LYLAAAAA!”

I wasn’t sure how long that time lasted. Had to have been a while because by the time I had calmed down, I was entirely out of breath, and Aleksandr’s office was completely destroyed.

I leaned against the wall and crumbled to the ground, completely exhausted.

Aleksandr came over and sat down beside me. “Feel better?”

“No,” I breathed out. “Not even a little bit.”

He nodded as if he completely understood and placed a hand on my shoulder in comfort. “Did you find anything?”

I sighed. “I did get information on a new identity she could be hiding under. Nik is going to start looking for her. Hopefully, something comes up.”

“You don’t sound optimistic.”

That was because I wasn’t. Months of zero leads weighed on my mind. I didn’t have high hopes, but that didn’t mean I would give up. If it took the rest of my life to find her, then so fucking be it.

“I won’t rest until I have her back.”

He patted me on the shoulder. “Neither will we. I know this is difficult for you, but just know we’ve got your back. Lyla proved herself by saving you over her own brother—a decision that no doubt would have been incredibly hard for her to make. Who her family is doesn’t matter. The only thing that does is that she makes you happy. Nik already sent the details to me. Same for Illayana and our contacts. Don’t worry, we’ll find her.”

I truly hoped so.

We sat there in silence for a moment, me consumed by my emotions and Aleksandr just there, a strong, unmovable, calming presence.

“I know I’ve said it before, but I’m proud of you. The work you did with Sergei was exceptional,” he said, voice soft.

I exhaled. I knew it was coming, and still, his words helped break through some of the anger still lingering in my bones. He was trying to help me forget by switching the subject—something he always did—and I appreciated the attempt.