Ivan's POV
The phone's ringing dragged me from sleep. It's the seventh day of our honeymoon, I can't wait to get back to work. Dispute my enthusiasm, I wasn't a morning person. Especially not when all my calls were reports from the bratva about messes my men had made and needed me to fix. I reached for it, eyes still closed, the sheets tangled around my waist.
"What?" I growled.
"Boss, it's Viktor. I apologize for disturbing your honeymoon."
I sat up, rubbing my face. Viktor wouldn't call unless it mattered. "Speak."
"We found the girl," he said. "The one who was seen talking to Mikhail at your wedding."
My body tensed. My brother was meant to be a priority after the wedding.
"Why are you calling me for this?" I asked, keeping my voice down. Sofia was still asleep beside me. "The orders were clear. Find her, get her to talk. Use whatever means necessary to learn what she knows about Mikhail's plans."
"There's more," Viktor said. "Something you need to know."
I stood, walking to the balcony and closing the door behind me. The morning air was cool against my bare chest.
"I'm listening."
"We've had men on her for three days. Last night she went to Mr. Sokolov's estate. She didn't leave until morning."
"Mr. Sokolov?" I repeated, the words barely making it past my lips.
"Yes, boss. We think he might be working with Mikhail."
My mind raced. Sofia's father. My father-in-law as of one week ago. The most powerful arms dealer in the Russian underground outside of bratva territory. A man who'd sworn an alliance with my family through his daughter's hand.
"Are you absolutely sure?" I asked.
"Our man followed her himself. Saw her go in, saw her come out."
Behind me, the balcony door slid open. Sofia stepped out, her naked body barely covered by a thin silk robe that clung to every curve.
"Come join me for a shower?" she asked, her voice still husky with sleep. Her eyes traveled down my body with a hunger that had become familiar this past week.
I forced a smile. "I'll be right there."
She bit her lip, nodded, and disappeared back into the room.
As soon as the door closed, I turned back to the phone.
"Viktor, are you certain about this? The implications—"
"I know, boss. It's serious. But we've triple-checked."
I stared out at the water, mind racing through the possibilities. Mr. Sokolov double-crossing me would be bold, even for him. The man had built an empire on fear and respect. Breaking a marriage alliance would damage his reputation irreparably.
Unless he thought Mikhail would win.
Unless he was hedging his bets.
"What about Sofia?" I asked, the words bitter on my tongue. "Could she be involved?"
There was a pause on the line. "Unknown. But we need to consider the possibility."
I'd spent a week in her bed. Told her the truth about my heart belonging to another. And she'd accepted it with grace.
Had it all been an act?
"Keep eyes on both of them," I ordered. "I want to know every move they make, every person they talk to. And about that woman, keep one of our men following her everywhere she goes. But don't take her yet. If she's the link between Sokolov and Mikhail, I want her alive."
"Yes, boss."
"And Viktor? Not a word of this to anyone. Not to my father, not even Dmitri."
"Understood."
I ended the call and stood there, hands gripping the railing until my knuckles turned white.
Inside, my new wife was waiting for me in the shower.
My new wife, who might be part of a plot to put me in the ground.
Analise's POV
Three days had passed since I sat across from that terrified sketch artist, describing every line of John's face while blood dried on the marble floor beside us. I hadn't expected to hear anything for at least two weeks. Finding a ghost takes time—even for someone like Mr. Sokolov.
I missed Sofia. She'd be the first person I'd call with news like this, but she was still on her honeymoon with her new husband. The man she couldn't stop texting me about since the wedding.
My shift at the hospital had been brutal—a six-car pileup on the interstate, three code blues, and a patient who decided his IV pole made an excellent weapon against the orderlies. By the time I dragged myself home, my scrubs had more fluids on them than in me.
Melissa was asleep on the couch, medical textbook open on her chest. She startled awake when I closed the door.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered, dropping my bag. "The ER was a nightmare."
She sat up, rubbing her eyes. "It's fine. Luca's been asleep for hours. Didn't make a peep after his medicine."
The mention of his medication made my chest tighten. We were running low. The treatments were getting less effective. Time was the one thing I didn't have.
"You should head home," I said. "Get some real sleep."
She gathered her things, stifling a yawn. "Call me if you need me tomorrow."
After she left, I checked on Luca. He was curled up in his bed, dark lashes against pale cheeks, his breathing shallow but steady. I changed quickly and slid in beside him, careful not to wake him. His small body was warm against mine.
I closed my eyes, exhaustion pulling me under almost instantly.
Then my phone rang.
I fumbled for it, nearly knocking it off the nightstand as I tried to silence it before it woke Luca. The number on the screen wasn't one I recognized.
"Hello?" I whispered, slipping out of bed and into the hallway.
"We know who your husband is," a man's voice said. "Come back."
The line went dead.
I stood there, staring at my phone in shock. Three days. It had only taken them three days to find a man who had vanished without a trace. A man who had spent a year making sure he couldn't be found.
My hands shook as I dialed Sofia's number. I needed to tell someone, and who better than my best friend? I'd start by apologizing for ducking out of her wedding early—
"Ana!" Sofia's voice burst through the speaker, breathless and excited. "Oh my God, I was just thinking about calling you!"
"Sofia, I—"
"You have no idea how fucking amazing this honeymoon is," she continued, her words tumbling out fast and giddy. "Ivan is... Jesus, Ana, his dick should be registered as a lethal weapon. I've never been fucked like this in my life."
I blinked, caught off guard by her enthusiasm. "I—um—"
"Last night he bent me over the balcony rail and—"
"Sofia!" I laughed despite myself. "Too much information."
"Sorry, not sorry," she giggled. "You have no idea what I'm dealing with here. The man is insatiable. And huge. Like, painfully huge sometimes. Plus, he told me he'd fuck me as many times as I wanted him to. You have no idea how it feels when the mafia king is at your service."
I felt myself blushing. "I'm glad you're enjoying married life."
"Enjoying is an understatement. I know it's an arranged marriage, but God, at least he's hot as hell and knows how to use what he's got."
I smiled, genuinely happy for her even as my mind raced with my own news. "You deserve this, Sof. After everything."
Her voice dropped a little. "It's not perfect, though. This morning I caught him on the balcony making a call. He looked... intense. I think he was talking to a girlfriend or something."
"What? Why do you think that?"
"He told me," she said simply. "Said his heart belongs to another woman."
"Sofia..."
"It's fine. I knew what I was getting into with this marriage. But I didn't think he'd still be talking to her, you know? Like, have some respect."
I heard the hurt beneath her casual tone. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I stole a look at his phone while he was in the shower and copied down the number he called. Once we're back, I'll have my dad run it." She paused.
Before I could respond, she gasped. "Shit, Ivan's coming out of the bathroom. I gotta go. Call you later, okay?"
The line went dead before I could tell her about the call I'd just received. About meeting her dad and the man he'd killed in front of me. Perhaps later, after her honeymoon, we could talk.
I stood in my dark hallway, heart pounding. In a matter of days, I'd gone from having no leads to being summoned back to the blood-stained mansion of a mafia boss who claimed to know my husband's identity.
I peeked in at Luca one more time, watching the rise and fall of his chest. For him, I'd walk back into hell itself.
I pulled out clothes and got dressed, then called Melissa to ask if she could come back for an emergency. Twenty minutes later, I was dropping Luca off at her apartment, kissing his forehead as he slept on, oblivious to the chaos swirling around him.
As I drove toward Sokolov's estate, I gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white. After two years of nothing, I was hours away from knowing who John really was.
And why he'd left us to die. Finally, I could save my son.