Page 7 of Forced to Marry the Russian Pakhan
There’s something magnetic about the furious, dangerous-looking guy.
The one who practically turned the ER into a war zone with his barking orders and sky-high demands. Arrogant, entitled, absolutely infuriating… and, annoyingly, built like every woman’s bad decision wrapped in sinful packaging.
His sleeves are still rolled up, tattoos snaking down his forearms, jaw set tight. In the harsh glow of the streetlights, I get a clearer look at him. Black button-down stretched across broad shoulders, dark blue eyes as deep as an ocean, every step takenlike a man who has never questioned his worth. And he’s big. Not just tall, but broad. The kind of man who takes up all the oxygen in a room just by existing.
The kind of man my mother warned me about.
“Get over here,” he growls. “Leonid and Iosif. Miron, make sure the house is ready for him.”
His voice is the kind that expects to be obeyed without question.
“I’ll handle it. You three better not get involved.”
I take a slow sip of coffee, half-listening despite myself. His accent is faint, but the Russian is there beneath the surface, woven between every clipped, dominant word. I continue listening by default. Hear him say something about prepping the crew and being ready for payback.
What the hell is his deal? Payback? My doctor brain kicks in, trying to piece together what happened to his brother. Gunshot wound. Lower abdomen. Obviously, not a hunting accident.
I take another sip of coffee, trying to be invisible. I shouldn’t be eavesdropping on what’s clearly some kind of criminal business. But my feet won’t move. It’s like watching a dangerous animal in the wild—fascinating.
My curiosity burns brighter than my common sense, and I realize too late I’m staring—just as his eyes cut toward me. Our gazes collide, his sharp and assessing, mine wide with busted guilt.
Shit.
I’ve been caught staring. And not just staring—full-on analyzing. My cheeks burn, but I refuse to look away. I’ve faceddown attendings who made residents cry. I won’t cower from some tattooed thug, no matter how handsome.
And yes, fine, he’s objectively gorgeous in that “could definitely murder someone and get away with it” kind of way. Sue me for noticing. I’m sleep-deprived, not dead.
The phone lowers from his ear, and his full attention snaps onto me.
My spine stiffens as he doesn’t look away.
“Problem?” I ask defensively, trying to drown my embarrassment in bravado. “Or do you always stare down the hospital staff after causing a scene?”
The corner of his mouth kicks up in the laziest, most irritating smirk I’ve ever seen. God help me, even his arrogance looks good.
Then, to my horror, he starts walking toward me. The way he moves reminds me of the lions I saw at the Bronx Zoo as a kid—all coiled muscle and deadly grace.
My pulse skyrockets, but I stand my ground.
Once he’s right in front of me, his eyes narrow in recognition, taking me in from head to toe. “You’re the doctor from earlier. The one telling me what to do.”
”I wasn’t telling anyone what to do,” I snap. “I was doing my job. You should try letting people do that sometimes instead of yelling down the walls.”
I brace, ready for the temper I witnessed earlier—the fury, the shouting, the zero-to-hundred explosion.
But it doesn’t come.
He just studies me with those too intense eyes. Up close, they’re not just blue—they’re midnight blue with flecks of ice. Beautiful in a way I haven’t seen before in real life.
He leans casually against the wall, one hand tucked into his pocket. His posture oozes confidence, and the raw edge from earlier? It’s gone. In its place is charm. “Didn’t think you were the type.”
I arch a brow. “The type?”
“To bark orders at me,” his gaze drags over me in a way that gets my pulse racing. “Most people don’t.”
“Most people don’t storm into hospitals screaming their heads off,” I shoot back, pulse fluttering annoyingly beneath my skin. “So maybe don’t set the bar so low.”
That smirk deepens, full of arrogant amusement. The temper I braced for? Nowhere to be found. Instead, his whole posture shifts to a relaxed one.
