The two women stopped whispering after the driver of the car turned around and barked at them to shut up. They hugged each other tighter. Lucy worried over Maria who seemed to be fighting to stay conscious. The hit she took to the side of the head seemed to have caused a concussion or something. Lucy had zero medical experience except with farm cuts and bruises, so she couldn’t really say, but she knew whatever was wrong with Maria couldn’t be good.

Please stay with me, she thought silently to the other woman, holding Maria’s limp body tight.

Lucy was so worried about Maria that she barely noticed when they arrived at their destination until the car jerked to a stop and she almost slammed into the seat in front of her. She put a hand up and braced both herself and Maria. Maria moaned and blinked against Lucy’s shoulder.

“I think we’re here,” Lucy whispered.

“Wh-where?” Maria mumbled as the men opened doors and climbed out.

“Airport, I think,” Lucy said, craning her head around, trepidation filling her. This can’t be good.

“Shit,” Maria hissed, echoing her thoughts.

The door next to Lucy jerked open and she tumbled sideways. She put a hand out to stop herself from hitting the ground, but hard hands clamped around her arms and dragged her up and the rest of the way out of the car. From the muffled protest behind her, she guessed Maria was receiving similar treatment. They were pulled roughly toward a small airplane sitting on the private airstrip. Lucy stared around in disbelief, but there was no one in sight, no one that could help them.

As they approached the plane a man swung himself out the door and down the steps, landing on the ground in front of the small group. Ignoring everyone else he stepped directly in front of Maria and took her chin in his hand, tilting her face up to his.

“Ronson,” she spat venomously, her voice slightly slurred. “I should’ve known he’d send you to collect his prize.”

He ignored her and shifted his gaze to the man holding her. “She’s been hurt,” he grunted. “Boss said no one touches her.”

The guy holding her jerked his head to the side, to the man holding Lucy. Lucy flinched a little as Ronson’s narrowed eyes fell on them demanding an explanation. The hands holding her tightened unbearably. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as tears of pain pricked her eyelids. She wanted to send her elbow into his stomach, but she also wanted to avoid Ronson’s notice if possible.

“She was fighting us,” the guy holding her grunted.

Ronson’s nostrils flared in annoyance. “And three big guys like you couldn’t control one small woman? When we hired you, we specifically said no damaging the goods. Was that so fucking hard to understand? Bloody Mexicans.”

It finally registered to Lucy that these guys had accents. And gang tattoos. All except Ronson. She eyed the hand gripping her arm, noticing the tattoos on his fingers. Somehow things seemed much worse, much less civilized than before.

“And who the fuck is this?” Ronson asked in disgust, his glare finally falling on Lucy. She flinched back, desperation making her more afraid of the man in front of her than behind her.

“She was with the woman you wanted us to pick up, so we grabbed her too,” the guy holding Maria said.

Ronson nodded, eyeing Lucy thoughtfully for about ten seconds before he pulled a gun from the holster at his back. He stepped up to her and pressed the metal to her forehead. “We don’t need this one.”

“No!” Maria screamed, lunging against the guy holding her. “Don’t kill her.”

Ronson turned his cold gaze on Maria, the barrel of the gun still pressed to Lucy’s forehead. He raised an eyebrow saying nothing, inviting Maria to give him a reason not to murder her friend. Maria’s frantic eyes met Lucy’s. Lucy sagged in her captor’s arms.

“She’s Sitnikov’s sister,” Maria pleaded. “If she turns up dead there’ll be a bloodbath. He won’t stop. You know he won’t. You’ve heard of him, right? It’s one thing to piss off, Nic DeLuca. But you really want to take on both of those guys at the same time on two different fronts?”

“If she’s really Sitinikov’s sister, you aren’t giving me a reason to keep her alive,” Ronson growled. “She’s more of a liability alive than dead.” His finger tightened on the trigger. Lucy could feel her world narrowing as she grew dizzy. She closed her eyes not wanting to see death coming.

“No!” Maria cried. “Not here! He’ll find the body here. Trust me, you don’t want that kind of war. Just take her someplace quiet. Make it peaceful, give him time to look.”

Ronson watched her, skepticism clear on his face. Anyone that knew Maria knew she had an uncommonly intelligent brain and knew how to use it. Finally, Ronson grunted. “She’s right. Not here and not messy. Get the bitch out of here, take her someplace else, make it quiet. Make sure there’s no body for Sitnikov to find.”

Lucy couldn’t open her eyes quite yet, even as she felt herself being jerked away from the gun. She wanted to be able to see what was happening, to assure herself that Maria was safe. But at that exact moment, her world was spinning out of control. All she could do was concentrate on taking one breath at a time, in and out as she assured herself that, for now, she was still alive. She stumbled on heels that were suddenly way too high as she was dragged away from the plane, away from Maria and Ronson. She heard her name spoken, almost a whisper, a plea.

Finally, Lucy looked up, over her shoulder at Maria. Their eyes met. Maria’s dark eyes glowed with a mixture of pity and apology. Lucy’s shoulders slumped in despair while her heart pounded in fear. That look told her everything she needed to know; she was going to die. Maria bought her only a little time by convincing Ronson not to do it here. She was jerked around and shoved back into the car while Maria was forced onto the airplane. She wondered if they would ever see each other again.

* * *

“You’re the fucking tracker,” Jane yelled in frustration. “Tell me where my goddamn sister is! You drove her away, you find her.”

Mack was about to snarl something at the tiny woman spitting fire and fury at him, when her husband stepped in between them, surprising Mack. Sitnikov wasn’t a fan on a good day, he didn’t expect the Russian to give a shit about Jane tearing a strip off him.

Vlad curved his hands over Jane’s shoulders and said, “You need to calm yourself, my love.”

“My sister is missing,” Jane said from between gritted teeth, glaring up at her formidable husband. “She’s been gone for over an hour and no one has seen her.”

“I know this, Jane.” Vlad caressed her cheek with his thumb. “She is my sister also. We will find her together. But you must calm down.”

Vlad turned to Mack, his voice hardening as he spoke. “You’ve tried her phone, of course?”

Mack gave him a disgusted look. “It was the first thing I tried. The trace leads back here. She must have left her phone somewhere at the reception. Either that or she’s still in the building.” Mack was skeptical though. He would have found Lucy by now if she was still at the wedding reception or anywhere in the building. No, she’d found a way out and for some reason she’d figured out to leave her phone behind. Was that an accident or had she figured out her boyfriend was tracking her every movement through the device?

Before anyone could respond Niccolo DeLuca approached their party flanked by two bodyguards, the harsh lines of his grim face spelling death. Mack stiffened, his hand dropping to where his holster usually was, only he wasn’t wearing one in deference to the high-profile King wedding. Every particle in Mack’s being told him this wedding was going to end in a blood bath if the escalating situation wasn’t diffused quickly.

“My woman is missing,” DeLuca said bluntly, his hard eyes narrowed on Sitnikov’s face. His gaze rounded the entire company before settling on Jane. “Your sister was the last person seen in her company.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Jane snapped. “Luce wouldn’t hurt a fly!”

Sitnikov’s hand flew up Jane’s back and tangled in her hair, gripping the back of her neck hard. A reminder to stay silent in the face of a potentially formidable enemy. DeLuca studied Jane with an intensity that would have been unsettling if he didn’t seem to settle on the side of deciding Jane was harmless. He nodded sharply and said, almost to himself, “You are worried for your sister.”

Mack understood. Jane’s over-reaction told the mafia kingpin that the Russians likely weren’t setting him up by taking his woman; an extreme and deadly move on their part if that were the case. Which meant they could work together, their friendship intact. For now. DeLuca jerked his head to the side, indicating the Russian boss should step to the side with him. This suited Mack just fine. He was done waiting for the mobsters to finish pissing territory while his guts turned inside out in worry.

Sitnikov released Jane’s neck, gave her a warning look when she tried to follow him and stepped away with DeLuca. Jane bared her teeth at her husband’s back and made to follow him anyway, seemingly determined to find out what the Italian knew that she didn’t, even if it meant causing a scene that could end in bloodshed. Zero self-control, that one.

Mack grabbed her arm and wheeled her around to face him.

“What the fuck?” she hissed up at him bracing a hand against his stomach and glancing over her shoulder.

“Shut up and listen to me.” He bent his head to her ear and spoke quickly and quietly, his eyes on the men around them. No one paid the two any attention. “You said it yourself that I’m the best tracker in the city, the best chance you have at finding your sister. And I will find her. I won’t fucking stop until I do, then I’m going to spank her ass until she knows better than to take off.”

Jane jerked her head in a nod and looked up at him. “I don’t care what you do with her ass as long as you find it safe and sound.”

“You ridin’ with me?” he asked, icy eyes burrowing into hers. He wanted his partner by his side while hunting for the woman they both loved.

She glanced back at her husband who was deep in conversation with DeLuca. Both could tell from the tense lines of his back, leading up to his rigid tattooed neck that whatever they were discussing wasn’t making Sitnikov happy. More than likely DeLuca was threatening to dismantle the entire city until his woman was found, regardless of the hold the Russians had over the area.

“I’m riding with you,” Jane confirmed, gripping Mack’s arm. “Let’s go before he sees me.”

“Leave your phone,” Mack told her. “You know he’ll track it the second you step foot out of this building.”

“Shit,” Jane mumbled to herself, dropping her purse on the nearest table as she and Mack headed for the nearest exit. “He’s going to lock me up and throw away the key after this.”

Mack couldn’t disagree. He was more than likely going to get a bullet in the head for this stunt. He doubted Sitnikov’s patience with him was going to last past finding out he’d taken off with the other man’s wife. He just hoped they found Lucy safe and sound first.