Roman ended his call and interrupted. “The guards were waiting for Evette and Emerson outside. They broke into the shop—there’s no sign of anyone, but Evette’s purse and Emerson’s phone are in the workshop. I’m calling Sergei.”

“You need to call the police,” Cassie said.

Roman already had his phone to his ear.

Dead ahead, the stoplight turned yellow.

Kir pushed the car faster and hung a hard left. “Cassie, repeat the address.”

“Kir, please listen to me. I know you want to handle this your own way, but I think you should call the police. If Via’s got Emerson and Evette, it’s a clear case of kidnapping. The police have more resources, and it’ll show Sergei being on the up and up and working with authorities. It’s also the last thing Via would expect from Sergei. That might make her panic and screw up whatever plans she’s got. It’s a win-win all the way around.”

Emotions clashed inside of him. The driving compulsion to stay focused and protect his vor’s beloved bride. The lightness that came from hearing Cassie think and act in the best interest of the family. The humbling gratitude that she’d gone to the station not for her name or her job, but to aid them all.

The buildings on either side of the street flew by, and Roman growled information into his phone, each word spoken in Russian. But his own voice was calm, grounded despite the tension of the moment by the woman listening on the other end of the line. “You underestimate me, malyshka. Certain things might be kept within family confines, but that does not mean we don’t leverage other assets when warranted.”

“You do?”

“Yes. We do.” He checked over one shoulder and shifted lanes for the upcoming turn.

Beside him, Roman hung up the phone, the tension in his expression indicative of how the conversation with Sergei had gone.

“I need to focus,” Kir said to Cassie. “You will go to the carriage house and wait for me there.”

“No, I want to meet you on Canal Street. Evette might need me.”

“Evette will need you at home and waiting for her when we get there.” He took the turn as quickly as he dared and lowered his voice. “This is what I do, Cassie. Trust me to handle it. Wait for me where I know you’re safe.”

She hesitated, but only for a moment. “You’ll call me when you find her?”

“The second we have her.”

“And you’ll be safe?”

Roman’s gaze slid to the display with Cassie’s name emblazoned on it, and his mouth crooked in a wry grin despite his grim focus.

“Yes, milaya,” Kir said. “I will be safe.” He disengaged the call before she could change her mind, steeled his resolve to keep his promise and looked to Roman. “Call our contact at the downtown precinct.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Waiting wasn’t Cassie’s strong suit. For as long as she could remember, she’d been taught to make things happen. To get up and dive headfirst into whatever needed doing. Not sit and wait and twiddle her fingers, which was exactly what she was doing plunked right in the middle of the living room couch.