Chapter 21.

NIKOLAI VOLKOV The click of the latch on the door sounded, I stood there for a moment, my hand still gripping the knob, my knuckles white. Good, I told myself, pushing off the doorframe. Let her hate me. I walked down the corridor, my stride long and aggressive. Lorenzo was waiting for me at the top of the stairs. He leaned against the banister, checking his tablet, but his eyes flicked to my face as I approached. He saw the tension in my jaw, the way my hands were curled into fists at my sides. He didn't ask what happened. "The office," I growled, not breaking stride. "Now." "We have reports coming in from the port authority," Lorenzo said, falling into step beside me, matching my pace. "And the tech team scrubbed the warehouse footage." "I don't care about the footage, I care about the target." I threw open the double doors of my office. I walked straight to the decanter on the sideboard and poured two fingers of scotch."Viktor," I said, staring at the drink. "Where is he?" "Gone, Bo