Your babies are alive.

Your babies are alive.

Your babies are alive.

Every minute of progress she made over the past four months caught fire. If she thought she knew despair, then she was wrong.

A hope so powerful that it hurt swelled in her chest. It punctured her lungs, pruned her guts, poisoned her blood, thundered through her neurons and destroyed her humanity.

Hope devolved her into a feral animal desperate for its cubs.

The text might be a trap, or a sick joke, but she didn't csre. She needed to take the risk if it meant getting her precious babies.

"Sweetness?" Knives called.

She shot to her feet. "I need to get to New York. We need to get there."

"What in rat's nest am I doing in that concrete jungle?"

She called the unknown texter as Knives watched her fidget.

"Please pick up... please... please..."

"Hello?" an elderly woman answered.

"Who is this?" Raelynn blurted. "Where are my children? Please, tell me what you want. I'll pay you anything. What do you want?"

"Grandmother?" a younger male spoke in the background. "What are you doing in here?"

Raelynn gasped, because she recognized that voice.

It was Dante.

"I forgot, sweetheart," the older woman said. "I'm sorry. You know this dementia eats my brain."

There was a scuffle as Dante picked up the phone. A harsh Italian curse was spat, and then he hung up the phone.

Raelynn called again, hoping Dante or his grandmother picked up. The phone had been turned off, but she kept dialing as she wiped her burning eyes.

"Damn it!"

"What is happening?" Knives stood up, his expression worried and his hand close to the gun he had strapped. He sensed danger, and his booted feet were ready for action.

"Hold on. Just hold on and I will explain." She dialed the only number that came to mind– Maksim's.

Like last time, he didn't answer.

Desperate, she called Viktor next.

"Hello?"

"Viktor. The babies. You need to help me. Maksim won't pick up, and I think Dante has my babies. Please–"

"Raelynn." His voice was tired. "Where are you? Are you somewhere safe? I think you are having some sort of episode."

"I'm not going crazy! Please don't suggest that. Anything but that. Take me seriously."

Although depression had been tempted to become substance abuse or insanity over the past months, she persevered.

Viktor was silent.

"Where is Maksim?"

"He is on a flight to Russia right now"

"When does he land? Doesn't he have reception?"

"It seems like not, since he is not picking up my call, either. He took off about an hour ago and should land for refueling in six to seven hours."

This couldn't wait until Maksim landed. She needed to squeeze Dante for all he was worth until she found out what he had to do with the babies.

"I need to get to New York. Can you help me?"

"Yes. I will fly you in, and I will keep you company until Maksim returns."

He was probably thinking that she would harm herself in the midst of her hallucination or nervous breakdown.

"Thank you, Viktor."

"I will prepare transportation now."

He hung up, and she instantly turned to Knives. He was the only muscle she trusted. She didn't know Maksim's men very well, and they tended to be intimidated by her. No one would help her willingly.

How in the world would she get to the bottom of this with only Knives?

Dante had no weaknesses that she knew of. He was so high-profile that she couldn't just ask around to find that information.

Maksim had been keeping an eye on him, waiting for him to show affection for a woman so he could snatch her away and avenge Raelynn's kidnapping. That didn't happen, because Dante didn't have significant others.

Raelynn wracked her brain. He had a grandmother, but she was under his protection.

Who, then? Who could she use to get Dante to crawl out of his hiding spot and fall at her mercy? She had no reservations about kidnapping. Not when it came to her babies.

She remembered talking with those women at the club with Maksim. They had been so beautiful and skilled. Would they know something about Dante? Could they be bribed into ratting him out?

A particular face flashed in her memory. Cadence. She had been the cute French woman with the pixie cut. Although she wasn't very chatty, Raelynn learned she played a powerful in her father's organization.

Cadence had looked bored throughout the conversations, until Dante's name was brought up. Raelynn didn't think much of it back then, but now, she clawed into that fact.

This had to be it. Cadence had to be the key.

"I need your help to get back my babies, Knives."

"Babies? You never mentioned anything about that."

"I'll tell you on the plane. Please? Can you call for backup?" She clung to his hand, ready to fall to her knees and plead if needed.

Knives sighed. "I don't like riding anything but my damn bike, but fine. I'll fly in the damn tin can."

She began dragging him to his bike. They needed to get to the airport as soon as possible.

Knives straddled his bike, and she swung behind him. She wrapped her arms around his torso and felt its rumble as he spoke on the phone.

"Meet me at the airport. I'll explain there. Damn it, Carbon. Shut the fuck up and turn on your motor." He hung up, and tapped Raelynn's hand gently. "Easy there. You'll suffocate me before we reach our destination."

She loosened her hold with a quick "sorry," and shut her eyes when he took off. She wasn't a fan of motorcycles, but she'd risk falling off one if it meant she had a chance to be reunited with her babies.

Knives floored it, and they grabbed their documents on the way to the airport. She tried calling Maksim again, but got no where.

Knives and his very confused brother, Carbon, joined her on the jet. The leather-and-jeans duo looked as uncomfortable as they looked out of place.

Knives stared at her, but she kept her head down and entwined her fingers over her empty belly. She couldn't answer his questions. Not yet, or he'd likely run away.

She feigned being busy until the jet took off.

"Want to tell me how the fuck you can afford to fly a jet when you're living in a shit-hole and working as a janitor?" Knives asked.

Carbon leaned in on his seat, interested in the answer. She didn't know much about him, but she suspected that Knives told him a few things about her, and being rich was not one of them.

"Well, I have some er– connections. Some past connections."

Knives raised an eyebrow. "Uhuh. A boyfriend connection?"

"Well, a baby-daddy connection. We... lost them, and then we lost ourselves."

"And that's why you moved to Arizona. I'm sorry, sweetness."

She nodded. "It's okay. They might be alright. That's why I'm flying back. To figure this out." She inched closer. "Thank you for not thinking I'm crazy."

"My pres is gonna be pissed that we left without giving him details, but I'll take some heat for you."

She smiled, but her lips thinned when Knives followed up with, "so who is he? Which rich, lucky bastard made you immune to my flirting?"

"Oh, you've probably ever heard of him," she lied.

"Tell me the name, Raelynn."

With her head low, she muttered, "Maksim Kuznetsov."

"Stop messing around and spill the damn name."

"Kuznetsov, alright? Maksim Kuznetsov."

"Fucking hell, Rae. The Russians? You've been playing house with the Russian mafia?"

She cringed. "It's a long story. I wasn't playing house. It was a serious relationship. Things just got tangled because we kept things from each other."

"Thanks, Knives," Carbon chipped in. "You've been hitting on the woman of a Kuznetsov, and now we'll be forced to play Russian Roullete until our brains are splattered on our bikes."

"I didn't fucking know! I thought she was single!"

"Technically, I was..."

"That technicality shit doesn't work! Your little boyfriend still considers you his, trust me on that," Knives interjected. He fisted his hair and looked at the window, as if considering jumping out.

"You're over-reacting I would never tell him anything to get you compromised, okay? Now let's focus. I have a plan. Dante–"

"Dante? The Italian motherfucker? You're tangled with him, too?"

Knives became so pale he was a shade away from becoming transparent.

"Sort of. He knows something about what happened to my sons, but he's hiding. I need to drag him out."

"How will you do that?"

"I'm getting my hands dirty, because this just got personal."