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Chapter 31: Missing Funds

Chapter 31: Missing Funds

The war room remained quiet long after Katya left. Rain tapped steadily against the tall windows, soft and persistent, as though the city itself was waiting for something to break. Anya stood near the holographic map, arms loosely folded, watching the amber markers pulse over the eastern districts. The missing money was only the surface of the problem. What unsettled her more was the silence that had followed Pavel’s disappearance.

Dmitri stood a few steps away, scrolling through the preliminary files Katya had already pulled. His posture was straight, controlled, but Anya had learned to read the smaller signs. The slight tightening of his jaw. The way his eyes narrowed when a particular timestamp or name appeared on the screen.

"He planned this," Dmitri said at last. His voice was low, almost thoughtful. "The transfer was clean. The accounts were carefully layered. He didn’t panic and run. He prepared."

Anya moved closer until she stood beside him. "How long do you think he was planning it?"

"Long enough." Dmitri set the tablet down on the table. "Which means he either got greedy, or someone gave him a reason to believe he could survive betraying me."

She reached out and rested her hand on his forearm. The muscle beneath her fingers was tense. "We’ll find him."

He looked at her then. For a brief moment the cold focus in his silver eyes softened, just enough for her to see the man beneath the Pakhan. He lifted his hand and covered hers, his thumb brushing slowly across her knuckles.

"I know," he said. "But I don’t like that he was close enough to do this in the first place."

Anya stepped in front of him, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. "You can’t control everything. Not even you."

A quiet breath left him, almost a laugh, though there was little humor in it. "That has never stopped me from trying."

She rose onto her toes and kissed him. The kiss was slow at first, deliberate, meant to pull him out of the sharp edge of his thoughts. Dmitri responded after a second, one hand settling at her waist while the other slid up her back. The contact deepened, turning warmer and more insistent. When they finally parted, his forehead rested lightly against hers.

"You do that on purpose," he murmured.

"Do what?"

"Remind me there’s something outside of this." His fingers flexed against her waist. "Something worth coming back to."

Anya’s lips curved slightly. "Then remember it while you hunt him."

Dmitri’s eyes lingered on her face for a moment longer before he nodded once. "I will."

By midday the mansion had shifted into a quieter kind of tension. Reports came in steadily. Pavel’s apartment had been cleared with care. No signs of a struggle. No rushed packing. A neighbor remembered seeing him leave with a single black bag two nights earlier. Traffic cameras lost him near the outer ring road.

Anya worked alongside Katya in the secondary office, reviewing financial trails and cross-referencing names. The work was tedious but necessary. Every shell company, every secondary signature, every unusual pattern had to be examined.

"This one," Katya said, pointing at a line on the screen. "The third shell company. It was created six weeks ago. Pavel’s digital signature is on the registration."

Anya leaned closer. "So he was already preparing then."

"Yes. And look at this." Katya pulled up another window. "A small withdrawal from a personal account three days before the big transfer. Cash. Enough for travel documents and a temporary stay."

Anya’s stomach tightened. "He really thought this through."

Katya glanced at her. "People who betray Dmitri usually don’t get the chance to think that far. Pavel must have believed he had protection."

When Anya finally stepped away from the screens, her eyes ached from the strain. She found Dmitri in their private study, standing near the window with a glass of water untouched in his hand.

"You’re going to wear a hole in the floor," she said softly.

He glanced at her. "I’ve been thinking about who might have encouraged him."

"And?"

"Too many possibilities." He set the glass down. "The Orlovs. What’s left of the Syndicate. Even someone inside who wants to see if I’ll bleed."

Anya walked over and slipped her arms around his waist from behind, resting her cheek against his back. She felt him inhale slowly, then exhale as some of the rigidity left his shoulders.

"You don’t have to carry all of it alone," she said.

Dmitri turned within her hold and looked down at her. For a long moment he said nothing. Then he cupped the back of her neck and kissed her again, deeper this time. There was hunger in it, but also something heavier. Need. Possession. The quiet fear of losing control over the pieces that mattered most.

When he lifted her onto the edge of the desk, Anya didn’t protest. Papers shifted beneath her as his hands slid under her shirt, warm and sure against her skin. Their breathing grew uneven. The city and its problems faded for a while, replaced by the heat of his mouth against her throat and the solid weight of his body between her knees.

"I hate that he was close to us," Dmitri muttered against her skin. "Close enough to watch. Close enough to wait."

Anya ran her fingers through his hair. "Then we make sure no one else gets that close again."

They didn’t rush. For a short time there was only the two of them, the low sound of rain against the glass, and the unspoken understanding that moments like this were becoming rarer.

Later, when they had straightened their clothes and the world had returned, Dmitri rested his hand against the side of her neck, his thumb brushing lightly over her pulse.

"I received a possible location," he said quietly. "Unconfirmed. But worth checking."

Anya met his eyes. "Then we go."

He studied her for a second longer, as if committing her face to memory, then nodded once.

"We leave in an hour."

Outside, the rain continued to fall over Moscow. Somewhere beyond the city, Pavel was still running.

But the distance between them was already closing.