Page 37 of The Watcher's Bride

“Don’t you think I know that? But do you expect me to marry someone like this? I need a woman on my arm who would be the envy of all,” he snaps.

“I have a solution that could keep the alliance intact while leaving you free to marry a woman more suitable for a man such as yourself,” I tentatively suggest.

To my relief, my uncle jumps on the idea immediately. “Well, let’s hear it. Out with it, boy.”

“I could marry her. I may not be as good a prize as you, Pakhan, but I am the current heir. Given the circumstances, Quinn should be grateful that you would be so generous as to keep the alliance and offer him your nephew instead.”

He’s silent for a moment, and I hold my breath, praying he hasn’t seen through my weak ruse. “You want to marry the girl despite her shortcomings? You’re a young man in his prime, you could have the pick of beautiful Russian women, why would you want this pathetic creature?” he asks skeptically.

“It is not that I want her,” I lie. “But I am willing to do this for our family, for the alliance. Many men have married ugly wives for the sake of power and forging alliances, let this be my burden, allow me to do this for you,” I say, praying I haven’t laid it on too thickly.

It’s almost as if I can hear the wheels turning in his head. Dimitri has resisted arranging a marriage for me before now, most likely because he wants heirs before I start having children of my own. No doubt he’s thinking it’s unlikely Nora and I would have kids quickly, or if we did, they would be weak and no match for his own should things become volatile in the future.

“Thank you, son, you are doing this family a great service. I will not forget this.”

“Thank you, Pakhan,” I reply, trying to keep the relief from my voice.

“I will speak with Quinn and begin making the arrangements. You are to come home immediately.”

I almost crumple with gratitude. As long as Quinn agrees and Dimitri doesn’t find out my lies, Nora will soon be mine completely.

My wife.

Chapter 22

Nora

It’s been three days since they identified Mike’s body. Three days since a strange man was murdered in my apartment. Three days since I’ve seen my watcher. Three days of constantly looking over my shoulder, fearful that the next man my father sends will be successful. Three days of being on edge, waiting for the police to arrest me.

Max’s solid, calming presence has been the only thing stopping me from going completely insane. But as always there’s the conflict. While Max would be the perfect man for me, he doesn’t need someone like me in his life. That, and the fact I’m obsessed with my watcher. Of course, I haven’t been able to fully confide in him. He knows nothing of my watcher, my father, or anything else, he simply thinks I’m scared and upset knowing that a colleague and former friend was murdered. We have agreed that I won’t tell the police about the assault when they eventually interview me. It would only make them suspect Max, and I know he’s innocent. Given the fact that the police haven’t spoken to me yet, we’re confident Mike didn’t tell anyone about the assault before he died. Despite this, I feel jumpy and tense. I just want the police to hurry up and speak to everyone at work already.

However, as I walk into work and notice the police car parked outside my heart plummets.

Be careful what you wish for…

“Hey, Nora!” Tammy trills, rushing over to me. “The police are here. They’re interviewing Rose right now, and she said to send you to the staff room the moment you arrive.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” I reply with a gulp.

My nerves must be written across my face, because Tammy reaches out to squeeze my arm, tilting her head to the side as she looks at me pityingly. “It’s okay. It’s just routine questioning to get some background on Mike. It’s not like you did anything or have any knowledge about his murder, so you don’t need to worry.”

A strangled, hysterical sound escapes my throat. “Yeah, I know,” I reply, aiming for casual but sounding guilty as sin.

Fuck, I need to pull myself together or the cops will know something is up.

I head to the bathroom to splash some water on my face and gather my nerves before going to the staff room, where I’m met by a uniformed officer who asks my name and tells me to wait. A short while later, Rose comes out, shooting me a small comforting smile of reassurance, and I’m called in to speak to the two plainclothes officers inside.

“Nora Adams?” the elder of the two men asks, looking up from his notepad.

“Yes,” I reply nervously, hovering near the door.

“Please, take a seat,” the man says, smiling slightly with kind brown eyes under bushy gray eyebrows.

He waits until I do as instructed, before continuing, “I’m Detective Brookes and this is Detective Simon,” he saysgesturing to his colleague, an average looking man who I’d estimate to be in his mid-thirties. “As I’m sure you’re aware, we’re investigating the murder of your colleague, Mike Thomas. We just need to ask you some questions to help with our investigation. If it’s alright with you, we’ll record this interview for our records.”

“Of course,” I reply, nodding and clasping my hands in my lap to keep from fidgeting.

“How would you describe your relationship with Mike? Did you get along?” he asks, looking up at me, pen poised.

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