Page 64 of The Pakhan's Kidnapped Bride
My heart flips over when I realize I’m thinking of her again. The hundredth time today, I haven’t been able to get her off my mind.
It’s past three in the afternoon, and I’ve been at the office all day, but I keep getting distracted with thoughts of her. I wonder what she’s doing right now. Maybe she’s reading a new book and tonight she’ll want to tell me about her favorite character, or something strange that happened in the story. Her face lights up when she talks about her books.
I could listen to her all day. Laugh with her all day.
Make love to her all night.
Things between us are amazing.
Each moment that goes by, I am happier. It’s been weeks since I even thought of revenge and the entire plan I had.
In fact, if I consider it now, and the fact that over the last few years it’s been all I wanted—to get back at her and her brother for what they did—
I sigh loudly, running my fingers through my hair. It makes me agitated. The idea of revenge.
I don’t want that at all anymore.
The idea of using Anya as a tool actually angers me. How could I ever have thought that would make me feel better? She doesn’t deserve that. No matter what happened in the past, I can’t hurt her.
Sure. This is supposed to be a business deal. And yes, she betrayed me. But for some reason, something inside me tells me there was more to it than her leaving because she got bored of me, or because she was playing some twisted game with my heart. I don’t know what happened, but I think she really meant it when she said she was sorry. And she meant it when she said she would change it if she could.
I am not supposed to be getting attached to her in any way. But my heart has a mind of its own, and I’ve conceded the fact that I can’t control it. I care about her more than I should. I’m more attached than I should be.
And I’m fine with it.
A deep chuckle rolls through my chest, and I shake my head.
“You’re getting yourself in trouble, Emmanuil. This girl is dangerous for you,” I say to no one at all. But the smile on my lips is warm, and as I say the words, I push away from my desk, ready to leave work because I miss her, and I’d rather be taking her out somewhere fun this afternoon than sitting heredealing with Bratva business. I grab my phone and slide it into my pocket.
Leaning over my desk, I push the speaker button on my desk phone, connecting me directly to my assistant.
“Tamica, can you move this afternoon’s meeting? Reschedule it for Monday. I’m leaving work early.”
There is a moment of silence, a sharp static sound, and then her voice comes back through the speaker. “Yes, sir. I’ll sort it out for you.”
“Thanks,” I reply, then grab my jacket and shrug it on.
I turn towards the door, ready to head home—to her.
But my heart leaps into my throat. Shock bolts through me like ice, filling my veins and sending a shiver down my spine.
For a few heartbeats, I can’t believe what I’m seeing. But it’s clear as day. Undeniable.
He’s standing there with his arms folded across his chest, his eyes locked on me, and a scowl etched into his face.
“Kristopher,” I say coldly. “I don’t recall inviting you to my city.”
“Emmanuel,” he replies with venom in his voice.
“What are you doing here?” I demand. My rivals don’t get to just walk into my office uninvited. And Kristopher has never set foot in San Diego, not that I know of, because of our intense rivalry.
“You know exactly why I’m here, Emmanuil. Where the fuck is my sister?” he snarls, getting straight to the point.
I glare at him, the shock of seeing him quickly wearing off, replaced with anger. Anger that gets more heated as my memories surface. Years of pain, years of hurt, all becauseof him. All because he stood between his sister and me. He stood between the closure and understanding I needed when she left. He took her from me and blocked any chance I had of trying to win her back. He ruined my life, and he deserves no mercy for the choices he made. And he didn’t stop there—over the following years, he continued to make my life harder. Challenging me, messing up business deals, spreading lies—he is my enemy, and I am his.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say darkly. “Why would I know where your sister is? Can’t you keep your house in order?” I mock.
“Don’t fuck with me, Emmanuil. How long did you think you could hide this for?”
