Page 8 of The Pakhan's Sold Bride

The other man, standing much taller than my father, is the one who has my immediate attention. He’s scowling, his eyes piercing into Anton, his arms folded across his broad, muscular chest. The tone and shape of his body press against the fabric of his white shirt.

Black leather suspenders sit snug against his chest, over his shoulders, and down his back.

The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up over his thick, taut forearms.

His dark blonde hair is cut short and neat, his beard only a shadow of stubble across his square jaw and his eyes are piercing and bright, even from this distance.

He’s oozing sex appeal and danger. Just looking at him is making my heart race. For a moment, I’m frozen in place.

Across the open space, my father’s voice carries towards me. “I can pay the debts if you just give me a chance.”

“You’ve already had your chance, Anton. We’re tired of giving you chance after chance,” the third man says, scowling. “How do you plan on paying this amount back?”

“Roan, please, I-I-I—"

The gorgeous man shakes his head. “Roan, I’m done talking to him.” His voice is deep and dark and sends a shiver running down my spine. My heart races, and I press my lips together, reminding myself to breathe.

To my left, a young woman calls my name. “Hi, are you Lara?” she says, drawing my attention. I walk over to her desk.

“Hi, um, I’m here to see my father, that man over there.” I gesture towards where they’re standing on the other side of the space.

“Mr. Rostov is just busy talking to someone at the moment,” she says sweetly.

I chuckle. “Yes, Iknow. He’s talking tomy father,” I say more insistingly. “I’m here to see my father.”

“Oh, right, um—sorry. Yes, you can go through.”

On her desk, a small speaker cracks to life. “Samantha, take the afternoon off,” a voice demands.

“Yes, Roan. Do you or Mr. Rostov want anything?”

“No, just pack your things and go. We’ll see you in the morning again. Thank you.”

I narrow my eyes. The atmosphere is tense and uncomfortable.

“You can go through,” Samantha says, gathering her purse and walking around me towards the elevator.

I bite my lower lip.

“Thanks,” I grumble, walking towards the three men.

Chapter 3 - Nestor

Of course, Anton arrived with no plan and no way to repay the new debts he created for my business.

I can’t believe this asshole, his arrogance. The sheer gall of it, to walk back into my office with nothing to offer. He has no idea who he is messing with—or he knows and thinks his old friendship can save him. But not this time. Not anymore. He’s played that card far too many times and used it up.

This time, he is being treated just like everyone else.

He’ll pay for the arrogance.

I’m not particularly worried about the debts. I can smooth things over with my business partners; they know me well enough. Our relationship is secure enough to handle this hiccup. It’s a shitload of money, though; not a hiccup. More like an explosion.

The main issue here, though, is that Anton has pushed his luck one too many times, and I am not going to let this time slide.

His greed and his willingness to fuck other people over to make himself a quick dirty buck is not something I will tolerate or allow anymore.

His days in my city are over. His life is over.

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