Stolen by a Sinner (Sinners 3)

Emre jumps in next to me in a nick of time.

“Any news on the men?” I ask.

“Murat’s okay. He’s already on his way home.” Emre glances at me. “Yusuf is still in surgery, and we lost four men. Doruk, Aslan, Dean, and Harry.”

“Fuck.” I glance out the window as sorrow for my men shudders through me. “Arrange their funerals and compensate their families.”

“Already on it.” I can feel Emre’s eyes on me. “What’s the plan?”

“We attack as soon as Elif can tell me what the fuck is going on in that house.” Knowing she’s not God, I let out a sigh as I pull my phone from my pocket.

I bring up Viktor Vetrov’s number and stare at it.

He’s a part of the Priesthood. You’ve been there for them whenever they needed you to help them.

Pressing dial, I bring the device to my ear.

“Blyad'! This is a surprise. To what do I owe the honor,” Viktor answers.

“I need your help.”

“With?”

“I have an address. I need to know what’s happening in that house, how many people there are, and if a certain target is present. I have to attack as soon as possible.”

“Send me the details.” I hear him move. “It will take me a couple of hours to get my ass to Seattle.” Then I hear him shout, “Luca, Gabriel needs us.”

Fuck.

I let out a sigh.

“We’ll be there in three hours,” Viktor says. “Where are we meeting?”

“My club. Vengeance.”

The call ends, and I lower my hand to my thigh.

“You did the right thing,” Emre mutters. “They owe you, and we can really use their help.”

“I know.”

I can’t risk Mazur getting away this time. Or Lara’s mother dying. There’s too much at stake.

With Viktor’s expertise in surveillance and being able to sniff out information, it will make things easier. The man’s part fucking bloodhound. Luca’s powerful, he has the manpower to back mine.

Within the next twenty-four hours, Mazur will take his last breath, and Lara will be reunited with her mother.

Even if it costs my life.

Pressing dial on another number, I wait as it rings.

“Stathoulis,” Nikolas answers.

“I need you in Seattle.”

“Where?”

“Vengeance.”

“I’m just kissing my wife hello and goodbye, then I’m on my way.”

‘Why are you kissing me hello and goodbye?’ I hear Tessa, his wife, ask. ‘Where are you going?’

The call ends before I can hear his explanation.

Chapter 43

Lara

Nisa forced me to drink two cups of tea, and she hasn’t left my side. Neither has Alya Hanim.

Now that there are no bullets flying around us, I sit and stare at the table, trying to process what happened.

Mom’s alive.

Tymon lied to me. For years. Why?

Alya Hanim takes hold of my hand, giving it a squeeze.

My eyes lift to her face, and seeing how exhausted she looks, I murmur, “You should get some rest, Alya Hanim.”

She shakes her head. “No more Alya Hanim. Call me Babaanne or Grandma, and I’m not leaving your side.”

I turn my hand over and wrap my fingers around hers. “Thank you.”

She looks visibly upset as her eyes meet mine. “That man must die. Gabriel will kill him.”

“He will.”

Nisa lets out a heavy sigh, and when Daniel walks into the kitchen, she asks, “Any news of Yusuf and Murat?”

“Murat should be here any moment now, and Yusuf’s still in surgery.”

“Allah Allah,” she whispers, lowering her head.

I pat her shoulder, and getting up, I pour some tea for Daniel.

When he takes it from me, our eyes meet, and I say, “Thank you for protecting us.”

“You’re welcome.” I watch as he leaves, then say a silent prayer for Yusuf and any other man that got hurt while keeping us safe.

I glance at Nisa and Babaanne, and needing some time alone, I leave to go to Gabriel’s bedroom. Once I shut the door behind me, I walk to his closet and pull my box from the top shelf. Setting it down on the bed, I take off the lid and pull out the storybook. I open it and stare at the photo of Mom.

She wasn’t much older than me when it was taken.

Remembering the video, I pull out my phone and figure out how to send a text to Gabriel. It takes me a couple of seconds, then I sit and wait. The device vibrates, and I quickly open the chat.

Why do you want the video?

I want to look at my mother. Please.

Suddenly the video pops up along with another message.

How are you coping with everything that’s happened?

I type out a reply.

I just feel emotional. I’ll be okay.

I love you, Lara. I don’t think you fully understand how much.

I stare at the words that soothes the ache in my chest a little.

My fingers hover over the keypad, then I close the chat and press dial on Gabriel’s number.

“Hi, baby.” His tone is gentle.

“I love you,” I say the words for the first time in ten years. “I love you, Gabriel.”