Free Her Russian Beast: 50 Loving States, New Mexico by Theodora Taylor

easily got in on the basis of her album. However, my source told me they were forced to rescind the offer when the opera director found Sirena’s name on a list of singers who had been blacklisted from performing with their company. Imagine my surprise when I found out she’d been blacklisted all over the world at nearly every major opera outfit.”
    Alexei’s voice held a rather judgmental note, but all Bair heard was “Sirena submitted herself for their Young Artists Program.”
    “She is trying to sing again?” he asked, sitting forward. No longer caring as much about playing his cards so close to the chest.
    “Yes, she applied to quite a few programs and they’ve all either turned her down or rescinded her invitation. But a few weeks ago, the applications stopped and despite being told to keep an eye out for her name, none of my contacts have heard from her since.”
    Sirena was singing again! After all these years, he’d thought she might have left opera for good. Toward the end, the hours of rehearsal had been the only thing that seemed to make her happy, but after she left, he’d put out feelers to every major opera operation all over the world. Not a word. Not an application. Not one single note sung. For six years. Not until now.
    He took this new information in, his mind racing, already making plans to hire an investigator—
    “I already asked the children’s father, my man in Chicago, to hunt her down. But to no avail. The address she used is a post office box. And the email address she gave them was established in Washington D.C....”
    Dark, sinister hope flared within his chest. So maybe Sirena was in Washington D.C.—
    “Again we checked,” his brother said, easily reading his thoughts. “And we found nothing, especially without a real name to go on. Our only hope of finding her is for you to lift the ban you put on her. Call each opera director personally and tell them—”
    “I will not do that,” Bair informed him, voice hard as stone.
    He planned to keep the vow he’d made six years ago when he’d returned from his Russian business trip to find their German apartment empty. She would never sing again, unless it was under his conditions.
    “But I will let you know when I find her,” Bair finished.
    Alexei lowered his eyes and Bair waited. He didn’t expect his brother to take the rejection of his request lightly. Alexei was a legitimate businessman now, with a family to boot, his Russian crime family days far behind him. But he was still a Rustanov. And Rustanovs did not like to—and some said could not —be told no.
    However when his brother raised his green eyes to meet Bair’s black ones, there wasn’t anger in them but pity.
    “Borya, I understand how you feel. When Eva left me, I could not understand it, could not reconcile it in my brain, and she was only my girlfriend back then. I cannot imagine how this would have felt to me if she were my wife—”
    “This is nothing like you and Eva,” Bair said, cutting him off.
    Having never visited the States, Bair had yet to meet his sister-in-law, but he’d heard the stories just like the rest of the family. Knew the circumstances that had compelled her to leave Alexei.
    However, Sirena was not Eva. Eva had at least left a note. Sirena had simply disappeared without warning or explanation. So thoroughly, he spent a few dark nights wondering if she was dead. Only the lack of a body and some primal instinct on his part had convinced him otherwise. And now she was back, attempting to revive her career as if her time with him had never happened.
    Bair snarled, “I know the true reason for her leaving. She is spoiled pet who stopped appreciating what I did for her. It is a very old story, brother. But I will find her. This I assure you.”
    “And when you do?”
    Bair merely dead-eyed him from behind the desk that used to belong to their father, but now belonged to his bastard son.
    Alexei might be the official CEO of Rustanov