Page 11 of The Pakhan's Sold Bride

The elevator doors slide open in the underground parking lot.

Good thing I didn’t park outside today. It would have created a bit of a spectacle to have to carry her out to my car. I would have had to borrow Roan’s or take one of the spares we keep parked here.

I smile in amusement at my own thoughts. I don’t like to draw attention to myself, and a man walking with a gorgeous girl thrown over his shoulder is definitely going to do that.

Turning out of the elevator, I walk towards my car. My footsteps echo in the underground area.

Yanking the door open, I duck down and set her ass onto the passenger seat.

“What are you doing?” she squeals, trying to move away from me when I click the safety belt in place. She quickly unclicks it and throws me a death glare.

A low growl of annoyance rumbles from my chest. It makes her pause, her eyes going wide with fright and her lips parting in surprise.

Mm. She has perfect lips. I wonder what she tastes like.

My cock stirs again, imagining what it would be like to create heirs with her.

Lara bites down on her lower lip and I glare at her, my eyes filled with warning as I click the belt back in place, locking her into the seat.

She’s going to be fun to break in.

This time, she doesn’t touch it, and I step away from the car and slam the door closed.

Marching around to the driver’s side, I climb in. I glance at her, my eyes tracing over her legs. Her skirt is hitched up over her thighs. She doesn’t seem to notice until she sees me enjoying the view. Then she huffs loudly, her cheeks flushing bright pink, and she quickly tugs her skirt down self-consciously.

Who could have imagined that a rat like Anton could produce a daughter like this? It seems impossible. But I’m going to make the most of it.

The engine growls to life when I press my finger against the button next to the steering wheel.

The courthouse is about twenty minutes from here, and we should just miss traffic.

I’m about to get married. I grin, pulling out of the parking area onto Beach Boulevard.

It’s the perfect day for a wedding.

Chapter 4 - Lara

This guy hasn’t said a damn word to me.

And who does that?

Who throws someone over their shoulder and just carries them off like that?

He’s crazy.

He’s ridiculously hot—but he’s completely crazy.

My father must owe him a lot of money, and for some reason, he thinks I can pay.

I have no idea why he thinks carrying me, slung over his massive shoulder, is the way to have a conversation about it, though.

“Can you please just let me go? I don’t know what my father owes you, but I can’t help him pay it. I don’t have any money,” I say.

He stares straight ahead, out at the road in front of us, not saying a word.

I huff loudly. My frustration has a deep undercurrent of fear. I know how dangerous these debt collectors can be.

Although this guy doesn’t look like a typical debt collector, he’s way too classy for that. The debt collectors I’ve dealt with have foul mouths and dress like they’re trying to show power, but they just look dodgy and scummy.

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