Page 13 of The Pakhan's Sold Bride

At least at a courthouse, someone will explain to me what’s going on. There will be someone else to talk to besides this asshole. Maybe they’ll let me know what my father owes and what they expect from me. I’m kind of relieved to be here instead of at some bookie’s private home. This is at least legal.

He pulls me towards the elevator, and we stand inside in silence. The space feels incredibly small next to the massive bulk of muscle that is his body. And he’s so freaking tall.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirrored walls and hurriedly brush my fingers through my hair. Even though I’ve just been practically kidnapped by this guy, if I am about to stand before a judge to defend myself, I should look respectable.

The doors chime politely and slide open. The guy pulls me out into a bright, clean hallway with carved stone alcoves and white marble floors. Our footsteps echo through the open space as we make our way down, past several large hand-carved wooden doors.

This building is gorgeous.

If I weren’t so full of panic, I would want to stop and admire the beautiful details of it.

He stops outside one of the wooden doors and knocks with three loud thumps of his knuckles.

“Come in,” a voice calls from inside.

He pushes the door open, and I’m dragged into the room with him.

It’s an office.

A very large, luxurious office with beautiful views of the city from the wide windows.

“Nestor, good to see you again, my friend.” The guy sitting behind the desk stands and comes around to shake my captor’s hand.

Nestor. The guy has a name.

“Argyle, thanks for arranging this on short notice.”

My eyes trace up and down Argyle. He looks like a lawyer or a judge or something very official. “I’m ready whenever you are. The paperwork is prepared, and we can go right ahead.”

“We’re ready. The sooner the better,” Nestor confirms.

Ready for what?

I can’t seem to get my tongue to form words at the moment. My mouth is dry, and my throat is tight. I’m overwhelmed with the formality of this place. I’ve never been inside a courthouse like this one. The one I went to was less fancy, a government building filled with lines of people waiting to sort out some issue or another.

“You two can stand here.” Argyle gestures towards an open space near the window. He comes to stand there as well, holding some documents which he places on a tall standing table, just big enough for a book and a cup of coffee.

“Alright, are there rings?”

Rings?

“No, I will sort that out tomorrow.”

“No problem.”

Argyle starts talking and my heart drops to the pit of my stomach.

He’s going through the process of officiating for us.

We’re getting married?

What the hell?

This can’t be real.

I stare in horror from Argyle to Nestor, who is calmly listening and nodding.

No, this can’t be real. This isn’t happening. This is absurd. There is no way that this is what’s happening right now.

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