Page 67 of The Pakhan's Kidnapped Bride
A soft chime pulls my attention to the doors. They slide slowly open, and as soon as I can slip through the gap, I’m out of the elevator and hurrying towards his office. I ignore his receptionist and her friendly greeting, hardly hearing it, my mind having singular focus.
I don’t hear shooting or shouting, which eases my racing heart the smallest amount, but as I get closer to his open office door, I do hear my brother’s voice.
I still.
Coming to a complete stop, my body goes rigid and tense.
Their voices are deep, filled with anger and hatred as they hiss at each other.
“What the fuck do you want with her? Why don’t you just leave her alone like I told you to do years ago?” Kristopher snaps.
I step close to the door, but I don’t let them see me.
“Because I wasn’t done with her.” Emmanuil sounds calm now, matter-of-fact and casual as he replies to my brother. “You two played with me, so I had to play back in return.”
What? Is this real?
“What the fuck does that mean?” Kristopher growls.
Emmanuil laughs as though this is all fun and games.
My heart is sinking lower by the second. Each moment that passes increases the pain, shattering through me.
“Your little sister broke my heart in ways I’m embarrassed to admit. She made me weak. A weakness I will never allow to happen again. That girl means nothing to me apart from being a means to an end for my revenge. She hurt me, she played games with me—and now I get to do the same to her.”
I clasp my hand over my mouth, horrified, smothering the cry of pain that spills from my lips.
“If you hurt her—" Kristopher snarls.
“Not yet. For now, she’s simply fallen into my trap. She thinks we’re back together, but soon, she’ll find out that I have been using her. In every possible way. Her heart will break the same way she broke mine. And she deserves every moment of pain that comes of it. I will destroy—and I will destroy you.”
They keep talking, but my head is pulsing so hard I can’t focus on the words.
My legs are shaking so badly I can’t stand anymore. I collapse against the wall, leaning on it to keep myself standing. Tears stream down my cheeks as reality, the reality I have feared since the beginning, slams into me like a freight train.
My breath is sharp, my lungs closing, my heart stammering. I’m falling apart at the seams, and no matter what I do, I can’t deny that I have deserved this. For years, I have deserved this.
This is the pain that I inflicted on Emmanuil five years ago, and now karma has delivered it right back to me.
I close my eyes, squeezing them tight and pressing my shaking hands over my face.
Inside the office, things are escalating, their voices becoming louder and angrier.
I deserve this. I deserve to feel this much pain. But I can’t let them hurt each other. I have to accept what he’s done and put an end to this situation in any way that I can.
It takes me several deep breaths to pull myself together, only barely, but enough to wipe my tears away and stand up straight.
I thought things had changed between Emmanuil and me. In the beginning, I knew he wanted revenge, and I assumed it was his plan all along; I knew he deserved to have it, but I thought things had changed. I thought he’d forgiven me.
No, he still wants to bring me down. He is still flooded with hatred.
I want to run.
I want to run and never stop. I want to run until my body collapses from exhaustion and I’m too tired to feel a thing.
But I can’t leave my brother in there to face the consequences of my mistakes.
So I lift my chin, force myself to find courage from somewhere deep inside my heart, and I march into the office.
