Page 19 of Bratva Stalker Kidnaps His Bride

They are hunting her.

Around me, my men move efficiently. One photographs entry points, another dusts surfaces while two more document damage patterns and collect trace evidence. Quiet communication passes between them in clipped operational language.

Timur steps beside me.

As always, in his clean suit and erect posture, he looks composed enough to attend a board meeting rather than process a compromised site. He surveys the room.

“They moved quickly,” he notes, absent of dramatic emphasis, crouching near the broken kitchen paneling as his fingers hover near splintered wood without touching. “There is almost no pattern that tells me they were confused. Most search teams lose time checking false positives, but these men did not.”

I glance toward him. Nikolai, standing near Zara’s desk, speaks before I do.

“Meaning they knew where to look.”

Unlike the others, his attention barely lingers on the destruction. His gaze is fixed on her papers, her notes, the names she traced, the systems she touched. Physical destruction interests Anton but strategic implication interests Nikolai.

Timur straightens, nodding.

Nikolai picks up a torn page carefully. On it, Zara’s handwriting circles three shell companies with arrows leading to one coded reference.

SABLE-7.

Nikolai’s eyes narrow only the slightest amount as he murmurs, “She was closer than expected.”

I walk to him, studying the page closely.

“She knows only bits and pieces,” I reply.

“Bits and pieces are more than enough when the wrong person is intelligent enough,” he states drily.

Zara does not need complete information to become dangerous, is what he’s telling me.

“The attackers clearly knew the apartment layout, likely from prior surveillance or purchased access,” Timur says, folding his hands behind his back.

“Purchased from whom?” I ask.

Timur’s expression remains unreadable.

“I have the same concern.”

This can’t be an internal compromise, can it?No, it can’t. I banish the thought.

“This extends beyond isolated attacks,” Nikolai states as he sets the page down. His words are calm, discussing war in the same nonchalant way he discusses market shifts. “This is a sustained operation.”

He’s right.

First Dubai, then Manhattan, now this. This pattern means they are escalating.

“We should tighten internal security,” Timur asserts glumly as he glances toward the shattered bedroom.

“That doesn’t fix anything,” Nikolai exhales.

“And your recommendation?” Timur queries.

“Hiding her no longer changes anything if external networks already track movement patterns, communication routes, and known associations,” Nikolai proposes, his index finger tapping his chin.

“She’s safer under lockdown,” Timur counters, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly.

“Safer is a comparative. She’s not safe right now, to begin with.”