Page 10 of The Pakhan's Sold Bride

Well, the joke will be on them when I do marry her and don’t let her escape the commitment.

I smirk, glancing from her to her father, then back at her. She narrows her eyes, and I can tell by her expression that she hasn’t heard what we’ve been discussing.

Anton presses his lips together, his dark brown eyes giving nothing away. Nothing except fear for his own life—and a willingness to do whatever it takes to save his own scummy existence.

“Nestor?” he asks, knowing that his life depends on my answer.

I shrug and look at Roan.

“Everyone keeps telling me I should have kids,” I muse.

Roan looks at the girl who has almost reached us. His brows rise and he tilts his head to the side. “Can’t say I’d turn that down,” he smirks.

“Yeah, I agree. I think this is an offer I’m willing to take a risk on,” I mutter, then turn to Roan. “Get this asshole out of here.” I wave my hand through the air towards Anton. “Anton, you are banished from this city. If I ever see you again, I will kill you. Do you understand?”

“Oh my word, yes, thank you, thank you,” he blurts out, scampering left and right for a second, ready to run in anydirection just to get away from us. He’s like a rat in a trap. I can’t look at him for another second.

I turn towards the girl, Lara. With a smirk on my face, I shove my phone in my pocket and tuck my gun back into the holster. Then I march towards her.

“Hello, I’m here because of my father and whatever he promised…Anton. I heard you talking about the debts? Does he owe you money? Has he discussed a way to settle it?” she asks, her voice sweet like honey, but her eyes tinted with a fierceness that suggests she’s angry. Livid, in fact. She looks around the same age as my sister, perhaps a year or two older. She folds her arms across her chest, waiting for my response.

So, she does know about his promise? She is in on the marriage exchange. What other promise would she be referring to? Interesting. Between the two of them, this must be a hustle. An attempt to trick me.

She raises her brows expectantly.

I don’t reply. Instead, I bend down, wrap my arm around her petite waist, lift her over my shoulder, and hold her there with my hand wrapped around her inner thigh, slipping beneath her skirt, my fingers brushing over her warm, smooth skin. My cock stirs at the contact.

The girl squeals in horror, wiggling and panicking. Her scent washes over me. Vanilla and rose. Feminine and divine. It sends a thrill racing through my body.

The easiest way to tell if you are compatible with someone is to breathe in their scent. Someone’s scent is like a written script of their DNA. Pheromones and attraction, all in a single breath of air.

I didn’t need to smell her to know how much she turns me on—but now that I have, it’s ten times stronger than it was before.

“What the hell are you doing? Put me down,” she shouts, bashing her fists against my back in a useless attempt to negotiate with me.

I continue to ignore her, enjoying how she feels beneath my hands. The more she fights me, the higher my hand slides up her leg. I’m certainly not complaining.

I carry her into the elevator and press the button to take me to the lower level parking area beneath the building.

If she’s anything like her father, and I’m assuming she is, then talking to her is pointless. She’ll be spinning me some ridiculous tale filled with lies and false promises. I’ve heard enough bullshit for today. I have nothing to say to her. What’s been promised by her father must be honored by her.

As we ride down in the elevator, with my free hand, I slide my phone out of my pocket and message my contact at the private courthouse. I have connections everywhere, and this guy can get things done for me immediately. I pay him enough to deal with these random legal issues, so I expect an instant response.

I don’t want to waste any time or give Anton or his daughter a chance to sneak out of this deal.

Lara is going to be my wife within the hour, whether she agrees to it or not. The money she and her father stole was mine, and they will both pay for it by honoring this deal.

I type into the messaging app,Argyle, I need a favor. It has to be now. I need an officiator to sign off on a marriage.I’m on my way to the courthouse now. Meet me there. Or have someone ready for me who can handle this.

Argyle: I’m here now. Come through. I’ll prepare everything. Is it for you? I can draw up the paperwork in the meantime.

Me: Yes. It’s for me. The girl is Lara Abakumov. I’m sure you can find her details on your own for the documentation.

Argyle: Consider it done. See you in a bit.

Satisfied, I slide my phone back into my pocket. Lara is busy pleading to be put down. She’s given up physically fighting me, perhaps realizing that if I drop her, it’s going to hurt. Or maybe she just realized she was wasting her energy. She’s so tiny I can hold her down with one hand.

“This isn’t funny,” she complains. “Please, tell me what is going on? Where are you taking me?”

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