Page 2 of The Pakhan's Sold Bride

I watch her walk away. She looks just like me, except way prettier; dark blonde hair, bright hazel eyes, tanned olive skin, and a wide smile. Oddly, neither of us looks like our mother, so I assume we take after our father; having never met him, there’s no way to know. My mother fell for that idiot twice—once when she had me, after which he bailed on her, not wanting to be a father. Then he came back into her life very briefly when I was twelve, wanting to rekindle the lost love.

I was away at boarding school at the time. Thank goodness, because I might have tried to kill him.

They were together for all of three weeks, during which she got pregnant again, causing him to freak out and bail on her.Again.

Needless to say that after that, she cut him off for good.

His brother, my uncle, took us in. At the time, he was running San Francisco, and he wasn’t able to have sons, so he was more than happy to teach me everything and treat me as his own.

He’s my father. Even in his older years now, I still ask him for advice at times. I have great respect for that man.

I wish my mother had married him.

My mother appears to have a steady reputation for choosing the wrong men.

I rub my hand over my jaw, feeling the shadow of stubble, rough beneath my fingers. This situation with my stepbrother, Miron, is a delicate one. Sergei is still married to my mother, and every time I’ve tried to speak to her about it, she’s shut me down. She’s as stubborn as I am. I guess I do get some things from her.

I spoke to Roan last week. We’re redirecting our efforts. The goal now is to find proof—unquestionable evidence of what Miron and Sergei are up to. I need to take something tangible to my mother, and to show my allies when they question why I’m turning against my own family. Not that they would question me. It’s more of a diplomatic move.

My thoughts drift towards what my sister said.

I’ve never wanted to get married. It seems troublesome and pointless. But the idea of an heir is tempting. I can’t believe I’m even entertaining this, but I have to look at all my options.

My phone rings.

“Finally,” I mutter, reaching for it.

With it pressed to my ear, I clench my jaw and listen to Roan, my right-hand man, my eyes and ears and everything else out there on the streets.

Because of the position I hold, I have to keep myself out of the watchful eyes of the law. I don’t get involved in the day-to-day, but I still need someone watching over it.

He’s been my trusted friend and colleague for as long as I can remember.

“We have a problem, boss,” he says, sounding tense.

“What did Miron do this time?” I huff.

He chuckles. “For a change, it wasn’t him.”

“Oh,” I say, surprised. “What’s going on, then?”

“One of our vendors fucked up, and the entire operation was a failure because of it. I can’t say for sure, but I think he did something to the product.”

“Who was it?”

“Anton Abakumov.”

“Fuck. That asshole has only managed to stick around this long because he was tied to my uncle.”

“I know. But listen, this fuckup has cost us.”

“How much?” I groan.

“Ten million dollars. We owe it to Black Hats.”

I sigh loudly, pressing my fingers into my eyes to try and push away the headache growing behind them. I thought today was going to be a good day. It had that vibe when I woke up this morning.

“Look, I can smooth things over with the Black Hats, but I want you to track Anton down so that I can have a word with that fucking idiot. I’m done with him. He needs to pay for what he’s done this time.”

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