Page 56 of The Pakhan's Sold Bride

“Don’t be silly. One crime boss is enough for me to have to deal with.” She rolls her eyes, teasing me as well now.

An image flashes through my mind of Benedikt reaching his arm around her waist, and I clench my jaw tightly.

This is ridiculous.

She’s married to you.

Yes, but you know nothing about her. What if she wanted to leave with him?

I clear my throat loudly. Jealousy is a fickle, nasty thing, and not something I want to entertain. If the girl wanted to be with someone else, I would no longer be interested in her. I don’t chase anything.

But I would rip his limbs off and leave him bleeding to death.

“Do you want to go out for dinner?” I ask, walking towards her, placing my hand on the curve of her lower back,and guiding her to the door. This simple touch, and having her near me again, it’s already pushing me over the edge, my body pulsing with desire for her.

“No, I got a whiff of what the chef was making before I left the house, and I’ve been thinking about it all the way here. It smells incredible.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“Bone marrow steak. I have no idea what that is.”

“Oh, yes, we are definitely eating at home tonight. He slow roasts the bones and makes a buttery sauce from the marrow and serves it with wagyu steak and roasted vegetables. It’s better than anything a restaurant could make for us.”

Besides, I don’t want any other man looking at Lara the way Benedikt looked at her. She is mine, and I want to keep it that way.

We walk through the office, and I pull her tighter to my side as we pass my employees, men who need to get the clear message that she belongs to me. But they are more respectful than Benedikt. They don’t have his power or his egocentric boldness.

Most of them only glance at her, then quickly turn away.

Chapter 16 - Lara

On Friday, Nestor leaves for work early, and I am home alone. It’s strange how empty the place feels when he’s not here. Even on the days when we are awkwardly avoiding each other, I still want him around. He makes this place feel like home.

Is it my home?

The question catches me off guard.

It’s strange to admit it, but it’s the closest thing I’ve had to a home before. Even with the strained, unknown relationship we have, Nestor makes sure I am welcome here. That I have everything I could ever need.

I place the book I’m reading down on the table, face down, with the pages spread open so I don’t lose my place. Sighing, smiling softly, I stretch my legs out in front of me. I’ve been sitting with them curled beneath me for over an hour, and I’m only realizing now how cramped they are.

It’s almost lunchtime, and my stomach growls to confirm it as I glance at the ornate watch Nestor bought me last week.

I shake my head and smile. He spoils me for no reason at all. I’ll come out of the shower and there will be a gift on my bed, beautifully wrapped. Or a bunch of flowers on the nightstand.

It’s thoughtful and sweet.

And confusing.

Am I allowed to let myself fall for him?

I push myself up and roam lazily out of the library, walking past some beautiful, lush green plants and high bookshelves.

A familiar voice calls from downstairs somewhere.

“Lara, are you home?”

I hurry towards the top of the staircase and lean over to see if I’m right.

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