Our forgotten past (#3)

14.

Chapter fourteen | Ezekiel
Today is not the day I work with Amara, unfortunately, but I bet that she's happy about that.

I roll my eyes at the thought and try to mute out the asshole's voice, Romero wears his usual scowl and glares in my face, truth be told, the guy is fucking scary.

But so am I, with his tall intimidating frame, harsh look, visible scars, and sharp features, People think twice before messing with him, "Come again?" I ask since I didn't actually hear a single word he said.

"I'm a step away from killing you." He states, raising a finger in my face, Alexander looks between both of us as if he's regretting his whole existence.

"Why are we here?" He complains, closing his eyes as he breathes harshly through his nose, "Because the pakhan gave me an order that is making me question my sanity." Romero explains, looking vaguely surprised.

His words intrigue my attention as I avert my gaze to his, "Yeah, and what is that?" I ask since I know Alexander won't, Romero sighs and runs a hand through his dark hair, "There's some shit going on between the Pakhan and the Don." The Italians have been on edge for a while.

And hence what he just said, I have a feeling that a war is seriously about to fucking start, truth is, I don't mind it one bit, "He ordered me to kidnap the don's daughter." Oh, that's definitely not what I had in mind.

My brows hit my hairline and I exchange a look with Alexander who looks equally surprised, "When?" I'm the first to ask, out of curiosity, not that I actually give a fuck about Romero, the feeling is mutual as well.

A muscle in his jaw ticks "In a month." He states, looking both annoyed and somewhat—excited, Jesus Christ, "I think I know who you're talking about." Alexander says and I raise my brow in amusement, "Do I know her?" I ask.

He shrugs "No fucking idea." He sounds bored, to say the least, Romero stares at me for a beat before retrieving his phone and scrolling for a moment, flashing the screen in my face.

I slowly take in the photo in front of me, I don't know her, but after seeing this, she looks way too innocent to be caught up in such a mess, which explains the tightness of Romero's facial features.

She looks young, long orange hair, numerous freckles over her face, and she's widely grinning in the picture, looking vaguely happy for someone with such a lifestyle.

When I snap my gaze back to Romero he instantly speaks, "Her name is Eleonora, the girl is just twenty-three, why am I supposed to make her life hell?" He groans in frustration, it's not as if Romero has a kind soft heart, that man is a devil, but for some reason, he's holding back on this.

Sure, it's hard and some things are just blankly fucking wrong in this life, however, I'm sure that normally, he wouldn't mind kidnapping someone, even if they're innocent.

I exchange a look with Alexander, probably thinking the same thing, but a knock on the door startles our talk, and Arthur, Alexander's right hand, strolls hurriedly into the room with a concerned expression on his face.

Which is never good, "What is it?" Alexander grits out, his hollowed eyes meeting mine for a second before they settle back on Arthur, "Miss. Romanov." The moment he utters those words, Alexander's whole posture changes.

He sits up straighter, hands clenched, jaw sharpened, and a glare that can kill forming on his face, "What's wrong? Is she okay?" Alexander hurries to say.

The guard looks worried and confused as he walks towards Alexander, but then he stops in his tracks when a phone ring coming from Alexander's phone startles the silence, he picks it up almost immediately.

The moment seems to stretch out in slow motion, "Ekaterina?" His voice is soft, gentle and sincere concern is clear as ever in it, in all years I knew the fucker, I've never seen him this worried over anyone,

He suddenly stands, his hand tightening around the phone, and his expression full of fury and rage, "Don't cry, sweetheart, you'll be okay." He comforts, my thoughts start revolving around some sickening possibilities but I hold back any words threatening to come out of my mouth.

"I—Ekaterina?" He starts but stops and calls her name again, and again, she clearly ended the call, whether it was out of her hand or not, something happened, but if I ask him, he'll probably punch me, and I'm very secure of my face those days.

Romero is bold enough to do so, "What the fuck is wrong?" Surprisingly, he doesn't punch Romero, he just throws his phone at the nearest wall, the poor metal meets the floor with a thud as it crumbles, I raise my gaze to Alexander, waiting for him to speak.

༺❁༻

Alexander's wife is kidnapped, and now we're trying to find out where she is, "I'll give you a location, hack the fucking cameras." He orders, "You owe me." I say and he casts me a glare that can kill.

I stare back, before rolling my eyes as my fingers work tirelessly on the laptop, concern starts itching through my body when I hit Amara's number and she doesn't pick up again, this is the seventh time I call her.

It's unlike her to the point where my heartbeats are going erratic in my chest at the possibility of her being hurt, just as a huge sickening thought clouds my mind, I snap my gaze to Alexander "Where was she?" I ask, his brows furrow and I add "When she was kidnapped, where was she?" I ask, fury clear in my voice.

His gaze flit to Arthur, who starts speaking instantly "Miss. Giovanni's company." Three words, three words stop my fucking heart as I stand up, I glare at Alexander as I approach him, "You didn't feel the fucking need to mention this to me?" I yell, my words laced with anger and clear concern.

He narrows his eyes, sharing the same feelings behind those gray empty eyes, "Do I look like somebody who was aware of this information?" He snarls, raising his brows challengingly, I avert my malice at Arthur who raises his hands innocently.

I narrow my eyes in a glare and clench my fists as I clench Arthur's shirt in my fucking hand, slamming him against the wall, he raises his hands and Alexander has to physically push me away from him so that I don't choke him.

"We'll find them." He assures, almost as if he's calming himself, his chest heaves with fast rises that mirror my current situation, I flit my eyes back to the screen and continue working to find where the hell they are.

If something happens to her, I'll gladly burn both of them, a phone ring stops the murderous thoughts and I grab my phone immediately, unknown, fucking great, I pick up, "We have your women." I put it on speaker, gritting my teeth so hard I'm surprised I don't taste blood at the back of my throat.

Malice, rage, wrath, I'm feeling all those fucking things and further as I clench and unclench my fists, "What do you want?" I'm the first to speak, whoever is on the other side takes a beat before answering, "Both of you, Alexander Romanov, and Ezekiel Petrov, we don't want money, we want you." He states,

Hundreds of thoughts run through my mind as I mouth to Alexander "speak" his brows furrow but he does so, "Who sent you?" He snarls, the anger lacing his voice like a second skin.

The question stays unanswered but I genuinely don't care about the answer, it won't change a thing, "Bye." I mutter, closing the call in their face, Alexander still looks confused "What the fuck was that?" He asks.

"I had to make the call last long, if it exceeds two minutes I'll be able to track where the number called from." I clarify and realization dooms over his face.

Italian, Irish, whoever the fuck they are, it doesn't matter, I'm going to get my girl tonight, even if it costs me my life.

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